A man looked up from the Bible sprawled out in front of him. Sitting at his kitchen table he had an excellent view of the street that formed a T as it ran into the street that defined his address. Though he couldn’t see it, the huge tree in the neighbor’s yard south of his was dropping all of its leaves into his front yard as a south wind gently blew. His thoughts of the study for the next day’s class he was preparing for evaporated, replaced by the thought of his annual “service” of raking the enormous number of leaves from his neighbor’s tree, pretending to be happy to do it. He looked at the weather forecast on his phone. Rain and snow in two days. Really God, wet leaves?
Returning to his study, he looked up again a short time later. The neighbor girl from up the hill was walking home from school towards him. He watched as she stopped under two trees, the same kind as his neighbors, that were also dumping their leaves. As the leaves dropped like rain she looked up and spent what seemed a long time trying to catch one before it hit the ground. Finally successful, she jumped and celebrated as though she just hit a 3 pointer to win the game. She then scooped up a handful of leaves and, after examination, carefully placed a few in her back pack and skipped on, kicking the leaves on the sidewalk as she went.
As he continued peering out the window, three more neighbors appeared. It was the man and two of his young sons from across the street from the trees from which the little girl had found her keepsakes. He carried a fan rake, as did the boys, only miniature. As the man knocked on the neighbor’s door, the boys started raking. As soon as they had a small pile the rakes were dropped and they dove and summersaulted into the pile. As they lay in their disheveled pile, dad started raking leaves in their direction, as though oblivious to them. Soon he’d covered them, acting like he didn’t know. After they were covered, he leaned on his rake and started calling for them, pretending he didn’t know where they were. They jumped out of the pile and he acted startled and fell to the ground. They jumped on him and they wrestled and threw leaves at each other.
Perspective, the man thought. He pondered as he watched. Where did he lose it? When did it change? Who, or what, stole his joy? The wonders of God are everywhere. Opportunities don’t go away; they are missed. He smiled as he prayed. He got up and went out back and fetched a rake. As he enjoyed the crisp, clean air, smelling fall as he raked, his thoughts were on candy corn and caramel apples, the treats for the boys tomorrow when he would invite them over to play king of the pile.
Thanksgiving is a matter of perspective. Enter the season, and every day, as a child. We are His kids and He tells us to live that way. The world can be a dirty place. But remember, flowers and fruit grow in dirt. “In everything give thanks: for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
In His love and opportunity,
Patrick