Mindful Monday

Here is another quiet morning when all I want to do is gather my thoughts and blog away. However a huge list of urgent demands awaits me. When did I get so busy? I am not sure what happened to my quiet life. For now I must be content to grab hold of the quiet moments and squeeze every last drop of solitude from them.

It is in these quiet moments that my mind rushes to count my blessings. Though I am often overwhelmed by the challenges of life, I have always refused to number them. I mention them; often my thoughts linger too long over them; on occasion, I dwell on them and even complain out loud, but I refuse to number them.

Blessings are too numerous to count, but just the effort lifts my spirits and renews my gratitude. At this very moment, I am snuggled up on in our log home in the woods of a gorgeous mountain ridge. The smell of fresh brewed coffee fills the air, and a blazing fire keeps us toasty on this cool morning. I am surrounded by beauty. There are seven healthy children still snoozing in their nice warm beds (one more away from home) and everywhere that my eye can see is raw nature.

One of my greatest winter blessings is the view. I love the fall and its brilliant foliage and the bursting forth of spring color and new life. Summer is delightfully alive and green, but until we lived here, I dreaded the stark, gray barrenness of winter. This year, our fall season was short and I felt a bit cheated when the strong stormy winds stripped the trees of their leaves before their beauty peaked. When I stopped focusing on the missing leaves and looked beyond the prematurely barren trees, it dawned on my that instead of missing out on fall beauty, I had been given my favorite view ahead of time.

The front window of our family room frames a prominant mountain peak, with a couple of neighboring mountains included, depending on the veiwing angle. Not only is it beautiful, but that mountain has come to be a symbol of God's faithfulness to me. Every winter is it there. Even when I cannot see it clearly and plainly, it is there. For all intent and purposes, it is immovable, standing in strength and serenity, quietly reminding me of steadfastness. I have sat in this spot in joy and in sorrow, nursing new babies and caring for sick children. I have taught my children, watched old movies, visited with friends and family, read stories, settled disputes, had family worship, all in the shadow of my mountains.

I know it is presumptuous to call them my mountains, but althoughI know I share them with others, they are a gift to me. Now that I love my winter view, I struggle in the spring. Despite the joy of new life and color springing forth, I gently grieve the slow disappearance of my mountain view. With each new growth spurt of fresh new leaves, the mountains disappear into a sea of green.

Knowing this, one year my husband surprised me at Christmas. It was a tight budget year and we had agreed not to spend money on one another. He cheated!!!! On a bright winter day, he stopped at the lake at the foot of the mountains and took a picture that is identical to my front window view minus the trees. The picture captured the lake and a rustic split rail fence to boot. He then found a special order mat and frame at a frame shop for only $4 because someone had ordered it and never picked it up. He had the picture enlarged and then in his beautiful calligraphy script, he wrote out the verses from Psalm 121 that remind of God's help coming from the hills. The mat had been ordered with two cut outs that were a perfect fit for the picture and the verse. Now I can see "my mountains" every day of the year!

So, today I count my blessings and remember that God is faithful and true, even in the smallest details like custom made mats at deep discounts. I am mindful that even when disappointment comes, blessing is right there when we look for it. Most of all, I am mindful of the moment. The mountains are always there whether I stop to look or not. It only takes a moment to step aside from the busyness and bask in the glory all around me.