"Johnny Grass Seed and the Master Painter"

My brief excursion up north to Scott's cabin was relatively pleasant -- aside from the weather that is. It rained in the evening on Tuesday, and was gloomy, overcast, and cold on Wednesday.

Thankfully, on Tuesday we were able to get the cabin grounds raked (aka, removing the acidic pine needles and the oak leaves from the grass), and new grass seed laid down before the rain started falling too steadily. With the work completed, that allowed Scott and myself to just relax and hang around indoors while the rain helped complete our seeding project outdoors.

As we sat around indoors -- among the rustic cabin decor -- we chatted many things, and played three games of Scrabble. I lost all three, but I did find a renewed interest in the game itself. Honestly, I may just have to get my own copy. Scrabble is one of those intelligence games; it's all about words -- the fusion of luck and the clever creation words. It's funny how engaging a game like that can be.

Later that evening a few hours after both of us had gone off to bed, I awoke sometime around 5 AM Wednesday to heed the call of nature (the cabin plumbing had not yet been turned on for the renting season). As I looked out across the lake just behind the cabin, I was greeted with a truely awe-inspiring sight. It was dark since the sun had not yet risen. Upon the lake drifted a dense cloud of fog, swirling slowly in a random array of serene beauty. The lake itself was as clear, smooth, and reflective as glass, and there wasn't a sound -- pure silence.

I stood there on the grassy shore and looked out over the calm silent nightscape. There were no people around, no dogs barking, no city streets or freeways, no early morning birds shirping, not a sound. Pure silence and some of the most beautful drifting fog I'd ever seen, punctuated only by the tiny pinpricks of various year-round lights from other vacant cabins across the mist. You don't see that in the city. Most of the time you don't even see that in the country. And, usually, even if the opportunity does exist, most people are sleeping right through it.

If God can create this much beauty out of the simple interaction of cold water and warm air, then perhaps it should be a reminder that nothing is beyond His control. Nothing.

I worry sometimes over the littlest of things, hoping my plans work out as I want them to. Yet, when God can turn the simplest of physics into a jaw-dropping work of awe-inspiring beauty, what need is there for worry? It's these hidden wonders that remind us how close God really is, and how everything works together at the awesome yet simple power of His command. He's looking out for us, no matter how stressed out we may feel. And if He can calm the waters and paint the mists, then he can do the same thing for those worries.

That's truely awe-inspiring!

In the end -- by the time we left the cabin to return to civilization on Wednesday afternoon -- the trip up north had been enjoyable, even despite the cold, the rain, and the wind. The work was done, the grass was reseeded, and some of my concerns were calmed with the simple reminder of morning fog over a lake. Life can be very interesting, and it's nice to know that throughout, there are things working on greater levels than I can understand.

Despite my worries, I think I like it that way.

Have a blessed Thursday all, and until next time,

Your happily musing friend,
-Jon
posted by Jon at 10:34 PM  I   I  0 comments