Life’s Unexpected Moments
If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine, it’s lethal.
– Paulo Coelho
Have you ever thought to yourself, “I should do something altogether different today. It would do me good.” We often get in a rut of routine, doing the same things, the same way, day after day. This monotony of sameness can often lead to depression, anxiety, or just plain old laziness. Sometimes we need a little jump-start to catapult us from our norm into something that can be remarkable.
I was in one of these ruts of everyday living for a time in the West Yorkshire area of the United Kingdom. It might sound unbelievable, but it was true. My husband was working in Barnsley. I had left my teaching job in Texas to embark on this adventure with him. It was lovely at first, not having to work, plan lessons, or grade papers. I forced myself to use the time wisely by doing Bible studies, reading, and teaching myself a little Spanish. But even the worthiest of endeavors can become rote and uninspired. Most days, I walked into the village, if only to get out of the house and gain a different perspective, meet a few local people, and pass a few words with them. I bought items daily often for cooking dinner, everything fresh and local.
One particular lovely day, a rarity in England, when the sun was shining, and everything was green and beautiful, I decided I needed a change. I would go for a walk in a direction I had never been before. The village was rather small, so I knew no matter where I went, I could always find my way back. All I had to do was walk in the direction of High Street that ran through the village, and I could find my way home. I left our old stately home the company had leased for us, walked up the street to a road filled with row houses all looking like the next, turned left, and walked until the road ended into another. Turning right, I passed a majestic old building, a home for the elderly, taking note of the name Jenkin House. My mother’s maiden name was Jenkins. I wondered if there was a connection. I walked until the road ended and found myself on a dirt path. Passing a community co-op sectioned off into small individual vegetable gardens, I had to admire the locals for being self-sufficient.
The dirt path was at a higher level, where you could look down on houses to the left. I do not know how long I walked. However, for some reason, I began to engage in a little heart activity of saying names for the Lord, as many different names as I could remember. “You are the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley. You are Jehovah Jireh, my provider. You are the bright and morning star. You are the great physician.” On and on I went, naming all the ways I could describe the Lord. I was amazed by how many different ways I could describe the Lord.
As I was coming up with descriptions, I noticed the path was ending, and there were no more houses anywhere in view. A narrow road appeared ahead with green shrubs and trees beyond that. It looked like it might be an open field. Unaware of where I was or what might be ahead, I ventured a little closer, crossing the road. What came into my line of vision was an impressive display of old-world beauty.
Beyond the open field spread out before me was a beautiful English estate like you might see in a movie. Imagine a large English manor weathered by the years, surrounded by lush gardens and shrubs, planted in geometric shapes, all neatly manicured. The manor’s stones could have used some power washing, but there would have been no way to stop and would have taken several lifetimes, I’m sure. Had someone been looking out of the stately arched windows with binoculars, they would have seen me with mouth gaping open. There were topiaries in large vases along the walkway that meandered the way through the gardens. The clusters of trees sprawled their limbs over the freshly mown grass. Occasionally, a statue of a person or an animal called the eyes upward. A pond between the open field and the manor reflected the beautiful sight in reverse.
A scene reminiscent of a bygone era formed in my mind. I could imagine a festive garden party with white cloth-covered tables and chairs under white tents with a flurry of people milling about in fine apparel. The clink of glasses drifted across the morning air. Perhaps there would be a leisurely game of boules or croquet played in the open field. I could almost hear the band music drifting across the pond, beckoning me to join them.
As I stood there on that road that particular day, I could not help but think how close this moment came to never happening. Had I opted that morning to follow the regular pattern of the day, I would have missed out on the incredible beauty I had just seen. This sight, a mere glimpse of what Heaven itself must surely be like, would never have been ingrained forever in my memories.
Sometimes, my friend, we have to push ourselves out of our comfort zone by intentionally doing something different to wake ourselves from our unproductive slumber. They say life begins at the end of our comfort zone. Moments like these can be very cathartic to the soul, a gentle healing of our hearts and minds. There is much beauty to be seen in God’s glorious world, but we must go to it to experience it. One day, we will all be part of the most magnificent garden party of all eternity. Until then, find the beauty in the moments God graciously gives you.
Psalm 8:3-6 – (NIV) When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor. You made them rulers over the works of your hands; you put everything under their feet.
