For those who are newer to the blog and thus haven't heard me write about it recently, I serve a smaller church surrounded by open fields, and live right next door. We've deduced that the owner of said fields planted soybeans this year, and spent the past two weeks harvesting them, so now the fields are left bare until summer. The other morning I woke up, glanced out the kitchen window, and experienced a rapid sensation of my hopes getting way up and then being let down all within a few seconds. I had thought by the way the daylight was hitting the ground, that the field had recieved a light dusting of snow. Such a sight would have brought peace to me, like a painting that you wish you could crawl into. But of course it was October and no such thing was really possible.
We all crave those magical pictures or moments in time. We crave to hold onto them, to somehow capture them on film and just hit 'repeat' for a few hours. They soften the harder moments, they balance them out. The fall foliage does that for me, as does the sight of a snowy field. There are reasons that people just sit and stare at the ocean, at a sunset, at a mountain range. While that's going on, something else isn't.