A Sight

My son and I went for a walk yesterday and saw something unexpected. We started out walking to our church, which is only about four tenths of a mile from our house. When we got there, we decided to walk down a path on the back of the property. That path led us down a steep hill, where ultimately, we made our way into a small patch of woods.  I decided to show my son something I had found once before.

As we made our way through the trees, we followed a faint path until we found what I had been looking for. A few benches, facing a rough wooden lectern, which stood in front of a large wooden cross. It was the result of a Boy Scout project and a great place for the youth to have an outdoor bible study. I wondered why they don’t use it? Perhaps it’s too far away from electricity. They might have to sing without music and there might be . . . bugs. I sat on one of the benches and prayed a quick prayer, thanking God for the boy scout who realized God doesn’t require electricity.

We crossed over a little creek, then headed back toward the parking lot of the church. At the top of the hill, just past the edge of the parking lot, there was a small plot of land where some folks in the church had a garden spot. “God’s Garden” they called it. The labor for the garden was donated by members of the church. The resulting produce was given to the needy.

We walked up four or five steps to make it to the top of the hill where the garden was, and that’s when we saw something unexpected, but it wasn’t in the garden. About the only things in the garden were some old milk jugs and a couple of scare crows, waiting to watch over a plot of dirt that had not yet been planted. We didn’t see the unexpected until we walked up to the highest edge of garden spot, and looked at the horizon.

There, at the edge of a beautifully clear blue sky, was the faint blue-grey hue of the moutains. I suppose it was the edge of the Smokey Mountains. I have been to the mountains many times, and I know some people live in the mountains all the time. But the thing that made this so special is that it was unexpected. And, it was nice to think that on a clear day, just 1/2 mile from my house, I can stand and see the mountains. Especially since I don’t live in the mountains.

I live in an increasingly crowded suburb of Atlanta. We have more than our share of crowds, cars, traffic, noise, polution, and dirt. Sometimes I get tired of it all. In the middle of the masses. Trying to make a difference in a place where the view is often obscured and the mountains are just a dream of a far away vacation. At times I get discouraged. There is so much in my face that it seems nothing exists beyond the boundaries of my daily commute.

But I know the truth. The mountains are there. The peaceful blue-grey land is laying just on the horizon. I know it’s there because on a clear day, I can just see it from the neighborhood where I live.  And that’s enough to keep me going.

Sight:   An instance of visual perception.
                                  – Wordnet.princeton.edu