I Used to Never

Life passed me by, day in, day out, year after year. Everything was a blur, busy, busy, busy. Expectantly, as a young father with a growing family, job responsibilities and other things were vying for my attention. Yet a lot of things were not in the forefront of my reality.

Learning to wait, to go slow, to find peace, to pursue rest for the soul, has become my new normal. Not there yet, but I’m walking in the deep awareness of it daily as I make decisions for my present and future existence. The past is behind. I can either dwell on those things in deep regret, or learn from them and grow accordingly. I choose to grow.

I wonder at times, even say it aloud, if this place we’re in, our family, is in some sort of an in-between spot, a transition point, a place we are stuck in. Yet the more I think about it and sort through where we’re at, the more I realize it is a real place along this journey called life as we sojourn toward eternity.

My lovely wife, Katrina, is teaching me how to appreciate more of the things around me, to gain an awareness of the beauty in the simple things of life. She is my adventure girl, the one who keeps me continually aware that there is something around the corner. We are frugal my nature as well as training, and I find myself despising things that don’t necessarily bring an immediate or any return to the bottom line of our monthly budget. Take bird feeders, for instance.

In my mind, a bird feeder is a money pit, something that we have come to possess that creates a negative cash flow in the form of birdseed, or bird “water” as it goes for hummingbirds. In addition to the cost of keeping these creatures fed that God, quite frankly, can very well feed all on His own, the feeders have to be filled and maintained. Not to mention the fact that this maintenance time can take away from doing other things that matter.

So, there you go, my thoughts on taking care of animals that God can take care of Himself. Confession is good for the soul, right? Yet wisdom and age are catching up to me as I slow down and stop to “smell the roses” as they say. By the way, Katrina will also take every moment possible to bring my nose closer to roses than would normally ever take place.

In our present state of affairs, as the end of summer draws near, the hummingbird traffic just outside our back door has been a swarm of activity, perhaps rivaling that of an international airport. Over the past several months, as I have spent some quiet time on our back patio, especially near some flowering plants, I would be amazed at times when a hummingbird would stop in mid-flight, pause, turn and look at me for a few seconds, and then go on its merry way on a nectar hunt.

In recent days, during my retreats to the patio for my morning solitude and times with God, the hummingbird traffic has gained momentum, as well as my attention. A combination of timing, getting slow and still, along with my awareness, has been the main key to enjoying those moments. I have no regrets. None. In fact, the more time I spent getting acquainted with these mesmerizing little gifts from God, the more I longed to do it again.

Getting close, still and quiet was the key. That is what God desires of us with Him. Sit, listen, be still, wait. Lean in, get really close. He’s there, waiting.

As the sun would make its way into the early morning sky, I would be finishing up my second or third cup of coffee, and then the busyness would begin. They drew me in, closer and closer, until I was standing within inches of them feeding, flying and frolicking around. At some points it seemed as though there were a dozen at one time, whirring about my head, brushing past my nose, so closely I could feel the breeze from their powerful little wings. Many times, they would just stop, hovering in mid-flight, and just look directly at me.

Katrina wasn’t just amazed at the birds and their activity. She was amazed at me, doing something that I used to never do, taking the time to get slow and see God’s creation.

I eventually learned that, because our season of warmth is approaching an end soon, the hummingbirds have been making preparations for elsewhere. Today is summer, and according to the calendar, tomorrow is fall. On this rainy and cooler last day of summer, it certainly feels like it is transition time.

I think the hummingbirds are onto something. Calendar or not, fall has arrived.