When You’re Looking for Peace

I step outside to a fall breeze and walk the long yard through leaves, some gold, some brown, to gather green tomatoes from my garden. And I heap them up in a tin pale with a wooden handle, ’cause there’s something that makes me feel a bit like a pioneer woman when I’ve got my tin pale with it’s wooden handle. I’m barefoot and glad that it’s still a smidgen warm and I can do this. 
The day’s been peaceful. Because last night before we fell asleep, Brent and I prayed together and asked God to help us with our lives. And I’d confessed how I’d been on the internet too much again. That lap-top seemingly attached at the hip and it’s got this grip on me that I don’t like. And if Jesus is the greatest treasure, then I simply wanted more of Him. And this morning, soon as my eyelids fluttered open, I had felt my heart free. New resolve to practice self control so my heart could be tuned in.
Because when I’m not distracted, I notice lots of things. Like bright yellow bananas and how they glow in a ray of light. I touch the peel and feel it smooth and quietly grin.
I hear the chatter of my kids in the yard with their mismatched clothes. Gideon conquering with his sticks and Hope, this little gymnast on the rings. 
I notice every blazing tree and that one purple morning glory, tendrils clinging. These little glories that we often miss because we’re busy staring into screens.
 
Every day is this fight for joy. A fight to treasure the One who gives us eyes to see. 
And I’ve got things to do, but I marvel at this. How being attentive to God’s Presence brings pervading peace.

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