Rebecca Carpenter

            With all of my devotional materials, journal, and Bible, I settled into my wicker rocker on the patio.  My fuzzy robe protected me from the cool, morning air.  I marveled at the beauty of the quiet lake edged with tall, green pines interspersed with red and gold maples.  It was a perfect setting for my devotional time.

            When I glanced up at the lake, I was completely surprised that I could only see to the edge of my lawn.  Fog had silently engulfed the entire lake—erasing all traces of it.  Then as quickly as it had appeared, the fog began to recede so that I could observe blurry shapes around the water.  When the sun rose higher into the sky, its light and warmth began transforming the hazy picture back into a clear landscape with  new, vibrant colors.

            Rising from the lake and quacking loudly, five ducks zoomed in formation out of sight.  Two small crape myrtles were swathed in shimmering cobwebs which were anchored by nearby plants.  A persistent red bellied woodpecker was drilling for insects while a small, brown bird perched above the feeder.  A dazzling scarlet cardinal nibbled  seeds at the feeder.  His bright color was a beacon against the foggy haze. I had seen none of that beauty before the fog obscured my view, but after the fog receded, I was more aware of the details in my view.

            Like the fog, sometimes our lives can become shrouded so that we do not see clearly.  We may miss the beauty of a sunset, a gorgeous rainbow, the smile of a child, or the accomplishments of a co-worker.  Maybe we also miss the anxiety of a spouse, the pain of a friend, the hurt of a child, or the grief of a neighbor. When we are too busy with daily tasks and long range goals, “fog” might be preventing us from seeing what is truly important right in front of us.  As we allow the “fog” to dissipate, a fantastic world can be waiting for us.

            After I struggled to keep them open, my droopy eyes finally closed so that I missed the end of the news.  My husband turned off the tv, and I shuffled to the bathroom to prepare for bed.  Unfortunately, age has caused my eyes to become dry so coupled with the short nap, I had difficulty removing my gas permeable contacts.  The right one kept traveling around my eye, but I was finally able to use a suction tool to pull it out. However, the left one was more stubborn.  I could not feel it but thought that it must have lodged somewhere at the edge of my eye.  I was not able to use the suction cup on it since I did not even know where it was. After looking and looking into my sleepy eye, I gave up.

            Then I decided to search the sink and counter just in case it had popped out and landed there.  Nothing.  My next venture was to examine the rug at my feet.  I dropped down on my hands and knees and began to meticulously scour each part of the patterned rug.  Again, nothing at all.  I was so tired and just wanted to go to bed.

             Then a thought came to me.  “Pray about it.”  I closed my weary eyes as I sat on the floor and said, “Lord, help me find my contact. Amen.”  When I opened my eyes, directly in front of me was a small object where I had previously searched.  As I reached out to touch it, I was amazed.  There was my tiny contact.  That simple prayer from a fatigued, frustrated lady was heard and answered immediately with a tiny miracle.  With a smile on my face, I kept repeating, “Thank you.  Thank you. Thank you.” 

            Why hadn’t I prayed sooner?  That often happens when we have a problem.  After we face struggles and become stressed when we do not find a solution, then we decide to pray–as a last resort.  If we would reverse the process, wouldn’t we have more contented lives in line with God’s plan?  If God can provide a tiny miracle for me, think what He would do for us if we just relinquished our control and turned to Him.     

            Thankfully, the recent freeze  was not as severe as had been predicted.  Alan and I had taken poinsettias inside, mounded soil around the trunks of tender citrus trees, and covered several sensitive plants with large cloths.  The next day, we were relieved to discover that there was no damage under the cloths.  However, as I walked around the yard, I noticed that all the coleus which had been a dark, royal purple and a bright, light green had been transformed into brown, droopy sticks.  My vigorous, green basil, which I had used as a flavoring in my cooking, was an ugly, brown mess.        

            . I felt sad to see the damage but was thrilled and surprised to see a few green leaves at the base of the basil.  Obviously, a small part of the plant had survived the intense weather.  The little green leaves gave hope that recovery was possible. I will trim off the dead stems and brown leaves when all danger of freezing weather has passed.  The lower stems will then become exposed to more light and allow it to grow with few encumbrances.  That pruning will allow the basil plant to become robust and bushy so that it can again be useful. 

            Sometimes we are like that basil.  We are bright and vibrant until a sudden incident strikes which causes us to wilt and become lifeless.  If we search carefully, we can find a leaf of hope tucked under the brown, ugly mayhem —a surprise just waiting to be released.  By pruning the hurts, destructive behaviors, bad habits, and anxieties, life can spring forth out of the jumble.  In spite of what may appear to be total destruction, vitality and strength can be restored for a beneficial, satisfying life full of joy.

           At time of reflection comes for me at the end of each year.  What did I do this year that was significant?  What did I fail to do?  What events stood out in my life?  What trials were there?  What blessings were there?  Did I make a difference in anyone’s life?

            As I looked out from my patio, I noticed a cloud laden sky with mist hovering above the lake.  Haze blurred the opposite shore of the still, quiet lake which seemed empty of wildlife.  Like a magician preparing for his act, the fog slowly enveloped the lake like time overtaking 2007.  No matter how hard I squinted, I could no longer see the other side.  In the same way, there is nothing that I can do to prevent the old year from passing.  For some people, beginning a new year is frightening, but to others it is a welcome relief.  Sometimes I worry about what the future will bring.  Will it be a time of happiness or one of sorrow?

            When I look up, my yard is a flitter with birds bouncing from tree to tree.  Their presence reminds me of Matthew 6: 25-26 “Therefore, I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on.  Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly father feeds them.  Are you not of more value than these?  Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?”

            A lone robin jumped onto the grass in front of me.  What a sight that was!  Robins were one of my favorite birds when I was growing up in Indiana, but since I have lived in Florida, I have only seen them a few times so his presence was especially meaningful. 

            He seemed to be saying to me, “Don’t worry about what might happen in 2008.  My robin friends and I have a guidance system that keeps us on track every year.  God designed the guidance system so don’t you think that He has one for you too?  You just have to have faith that He knows what He is doing.  Then follow His guidance like we do.”

            The red breasted robin then joined his friends in the oak tree as they rested briefly before flying away on their migration journey.  What a beautiful, memorable gift that robin gave me to begin the New Year. When I start to worry, I will remember the message that he gave to me.