Friday, April 13, 2018

The View

I just finished writing a sermon I can hardly wait to preach this Sunday!

In fact, I'm so excited I would love to attach the entire message here for you to read it.  But alas,  I can't give it away today.  What would be the incentive for people to come on Sunday?

The title of my sermon is "The View" just like this post.  Only here, I'm taking a little different twist.

(It dawned on me just a moment ago that I've never invited you to hear one of my sermons but you can rather easily.  Go to click on the GGC Facebook page and you'll have access to our weekly sermons.

You'll have to scroll back to October to catch my most recent one.  Or just come back on Tuesday and they'll have the one from this Sunday posted.)

This week Frank and I made a quick trip up to north FL to visit my dad and his wife, Christeen.  We left Monday just as the sun was peeking over the horizon and drove the 7 hours to his home.  Then Wednesday, we drove back.

There was no agenda for this visit.  We didn't even do much of anything special.  It was all about time with Dad.  Stepping out of our hectic world and into his quieter one for a while.

We walked to the barn to feed his cows, ducks and kittens.  We checked out his progress on the garden he just planted. We rode in his Arctic Cat over hill and dale seeing where he hunts and fishes.  We even stopped for a couple of selfies near his favorite fishin' hole.

Let me not rush past the statement "...rode in his Arctic Cat..." because you need a good mental picture.  Dad lives on a huge tract of land owned by his family for decades.  Well over a hundred acres.

Because he knows almost every foot of that land from his 80 years of rambling over it, he needed a way to still access each corner.  So he bought himself an all terrain vehicle with two front seats positioned side by side.  A huge console in the center covers part of the engine.

Frank was on this little adventure with us, so guess where I was sitting.  Yep, I was precariously perched on the console like I was a fifteen year old girl instead of a 59 year old lady!

I kept trying new hand grip spots to secure me from toppling over on top of the fellas.  And the console started heating up well before we got back to the house.

(Please envision my eyes as wide as saucers and my bum quite warm!) 

But we made a memory!

In truth, it's a memory I'll hold dear for years to come.  Dad just driving us slowly over the fields and through the wooded areas. Easing his way through the boggy lowlands.  Pointing out vegetation and wildlife as they appeared before us.  Telling stories of hunting trips and fishing adventures.

We were seeing the land from his point of view and I was reminded why he loves it so much.

It was good therapy for Frank and I just to get out of town for 48 hours.  Somehow, your perspective shifts when you get away and shake up your normal routine a bit.

Even our ride on the Arctic Cat was good medicine.

There's more I'd love to share but I just got a call from my favorite fella with an invitation for lunch.  So I'm signing off to make sure he knows I view him as most important!

How about you?  Do you have a story of how your perspective has shifted at some point?  Or perhaps a tip about keeping your perspective right?  We'd love to hear about it in the comment section........


  1. My dad is nearly 92 and for the past nearly 50 years, he has taken care of cattle two local men have owned. He doesn't do a lot of cattle tending these days but he does venture out to the ranch every day. The local Ford dealer now owns the ranch and has a Ranger there. I believe it is similar to your dad's Arctic Cat. If the weather is warm, my dad can spend hours out there just riding through hill and dale. On occasion my mom, nearly 87 years, will go along with him.

    1. It's amazing how "being on the land" regenerates them, right? Thanks for sharing!

  2. I grew up on a "family farm" and couldn't wait to leave. After college I moved around the US for 15 years. Life happened and I had the choice of living on my family farm or my husband's. The choice was mine and I chose my family farm. This allowed my mom to come "home" and spend as much time as she wants in her childhood home. We've had a wonderful 25 years creating wildlife habitat and expanding our garden. Never thought I'd admit to enjoying working in the dirt! I had to experience city life to appreciate the peace & quiet of farm life. We've been recognized as a "Century Farm" meaning the farm has been in the same family for 100 years. Unfortunately there is no "next generation" to inherit the "family farm". Karen

    1. Karen, what a lovely story! You're right, there's nothing quite like a day spent working in the dirt then an evening sitting on a porch swing to quiet your heart. Thanks for the comment! (What state are you from?)

    2. Iowa, where this year winter doesn't want to give up and spring greenery is getting buried under snow we had 8 inches more on 4/18 Karen

    3. Oh, mercy! Praying strength for you. I'm sure summers are gorgeous there in Iowa. And it can't come soon enough this year. Blessings! :-)