Don't let routine steal the show

The summer sunshine sure feels good. For awhile during the late winter and early spring, I feared we were going to live in perpetual clouds, and I'm one of those people who simply must have sunshine in her day. I don't do dismal well. Perhaps it has something to do with my name. A co-worker recently quipped when I arrived at work, "you can't have a day without a 'dawn'." The rains over the weekend, however, were welcome, the sweet smell and life-giving liquid refreshing all of creation.

But I'm loving the summer sunshine. Oh, I know, the hot days of summer still loom, the electric company is looking forward to its annual bonanza while we're dreading the annual summer bill buster, but for now, give me lots and lots of sunshine.

The garden is in, the potato plants are well-established and the pepper plants and tomato plants have turned the corner and have decided not only to live, but to thrive. And although there are weeds aplenty to battle in our buffalo grass, they are keeping clear of the garden so far. We've been on our hands and knees in the lawn though, hand-weeding during every spare moment, and even though that activity reveals that we are well into our 50s every time we stand up, it is still gratifying to look back at where we've been and measure our progress.

I grew up with TV, but don't remember spending a lot of summer days inside watching it. We were always outside doing something. Nowadays, with personal computers and gaming systems, folks who don't want to don't have to venture out for entertainment at all and that's a shame. They're missing quite a show.

For instance, I was standing outside the other day, just me and my thoughts, and I noticed some birds cavorting on the roof of the building across the street from the Gazette. One had a long twig in his beak, long enough for me to see it from across the street and another bird apparently wanted that twig for himself. The twig carrier ran across the roof, the other bird in hot pursuit. They kept this up for awhile, and I was impressed with the tenacity of the twig carrier. Finally, the covetous bird gave up and flew off. The other bird soon took flight as well, seeking the shelter of the eaves, twig in beak. Oops, bad angle. Out he came, twig still firmly in place, to take a different approach to the shaded area under the overhanging eaves. Success! He disappeared, apparently delivering his hard-won twig to his mate. Mere seconds later, the twig floated to the ground. Did he drop it at the last minute or was it unacceptable building material? Not speaking bird, I cannot know, but his next actions needed no translation. Lighting on the power line, he ruffled up his feathers and shook his wings out, then ruffled his feathers and shook his wings out again. Resignation settled then, and again, he took wing, no doubt to look for another, more acceptable, twig.

Perhaps it's my imagination, overactive still, but I could sure identify with that bird's frustration. All that work, all that defense, all for naught. Nothing for it but to try, try again. A bird-sized drama for a bird-sized break from my own labors of the day. The perpetual weeds spark the same frustration. The kitchen gets cleaned just in time to prepare another meal, the laundry is caught up, except for the clothes on my back -- there's always something to do. Even here at the office, it's the same. No sooner do we put one edition to bed when it's time to start on the next one. It's a wonder I found time to watch the nature show at all.

These shows go on all the time, whether or not there's an audience in attendance. Birds have nests to build. Foxes dig holes. Ants build mountains and prairie dogs erect townships. Nature. God's creation on full display for any who will pause long enough to watch.

Life can fall into a steady rhythm, uninterrupted day-to-day, whether we plan it that way or not. And there can be danger there. The routine may lead to blindness, if not of sight, then of soul. Yet, even as we follow our daily routines, we can, if we try, yet discover sweet sights and sweeter sounds, refreshing not only the body, but the soul, as surely as the recent showers refreshed all of creation around us. That's where we found ourselves Monday afternoon as we were plucking weeds, yet again. We had set the goal that we would eradicate the weeds in the center sidewalk section on the south. We plucked the last stubborn weed and picked up our buckets and dandelion forks just as the wind came up, followed immediately by summer rain. We stayed under the cover of the porch roof, relishing the cool wet mist created as the rain tumbled into the hedges along the porch, thankful for the rain, thankful for the shelter, thankful that the job was finished, just in time.

Yes, it's all too easy to get caught up in our routines and to begin to believe that life will always be this way, that it will go on, even long after we are gone, morning following night, which follows day, one after another. Taking time to recognize the story of creation, played out by the created, reminds us to take time to consider our Creator and to give him his due.

"Know that the Lord is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.