Each spring, the forsythia bushes around our house put on a show.
It is one of the most vibrant and beautiful colors of the year.
For some reason, the herd of deer which have made our backyard home stay away from them.
This year I remembered to get out and take a picture that tries to capture their beauty. In past years, I waited a few days late, and there was as much yellow on the ground as on the bush.
Looking at the hill behind my house, I see several things.
- I see the washed-out mulch and worn path below the birdfeeder.
- You can see the bright greens of the weeds that are gathering strength with each spring rain.
- As I look at the top of the hill, I see where erosion has slowly worn down some of the upper yard.
- One of the evergreen plants is less than healthy and needs to be relocated.
- On the birdfeeder, I notice the specially made suet holders. A feeble attempt to keep the @#$%^&! squirrels from running off with each new block of suet we place out there (my design works, now they simply sit on top of the suet holder, reach down, and feast to their heart’s content).
Right there, in the midst of all that needs work, is the flash of beauty.
The bright yellow transforms a winter landscape with the hope of spring.
The View from My Window
I spend a lot of time looking at this particular scene behind our house.
We have a large window that allows me to stand and watch the comings and goings at the feeders.
I recently saw a cartoon that made fun of people over 50 and their tendency to watch birds. The cartoon made me laugh until I realized the author was poking fun at me.
The other day was a gorgeous, sunshine-filled day.
Life Creeps In
Looking at the hill, I was feeling overwhelmed by the work that needed to be done.
I could feel my anxiety rising. How would this work be accomplished when this round of chemotherapy leaves me exhausted simply reading a book?
I could feel the joy that usually accompanies my time looking out the window, slowly slipping away.
Standing there at the window, I realized I had a choice to make.
I could celebrate and enjoy the beauty displayed by the forsythia bush.
Or, I could allow all the minor “issues” surrounding the beauty to rob me of a moment of peace and celebration.
A Lesson in Yellow
It was not until a few days later that I heard the lesson of the forsythia bush.
How often do I allow the “issues” of life to rob me of celebrating the beauty that is all around me?
Someone says or does something that I can’t entirely agree with. I focus on what was “wrong” rather than seeing the completeness of who they are, how they are blooming right before my eyes.
My day is filled with minor “issues.” Each one could take my eyes off the beautiful thing God is doing right before me.
I often allow a sense of the urgency of work undone to rob me of seeing what is taking place right before me. I am so focused on what could be done that I miss what is blossoming or blooming right before my eyes.
Even when it is as big, bright, and bold as the forsythia bush in my backyard.
Capture the Moment
In a few weeks, the bright yellow of the forsythia bush will be gone.
Summer will be spent a bright green that, while healthy and nice, certainly lacks the flash of this springtime color.
Please do not miss the moments of beauty and grace within your own life because you were distracted by “issues.”
Allow yourself the joy and freedom to see the beauty in yourself and others.
See the beauty in those places where work remains to be done.
Take a moment to celebrate what is before focusing on what must be done.
As Abba Father gazes upon you, He celebrates the beauty found within you, even though each of us has work to do.
My forsythia bush has spoken.
God is Good All the Time…All the Time God is Good.
You can see that this is a lesson I must continually return to: Aware of our Blessings