A hint of autumn has begun to touch the edges of the day. A lingering chill greets morning and dusk has quickened its step. Remembered deer ghosting through woods I spend far too little time in, spark the hope that fuels a hunter’s heart.
This year, my oldest child has been begging to spend more time in the field. This year, I plan to accommodate her wishes more often. Yet, between sports and school and so many more activities, I know without serious effort and diligence autumn may sneak into winter while all these pressing moments spent hurrying and worrying lay siege to the really important moments of life.
Precious time stolen, forgotten, wasted?
What is time worth if it is not appreciated. If it is not shared with those you love, with The One who is love.
Relationships and experiences make us who we are. I am ready to experience the deer woods once again. I am ready to share them with my daughter again. And I wonder if she will hear the sound of the creek lightly tumbling its way toward wherever God intended it to go. I wonder if she will hear it just as background noise the way I used to. I wonder if she will desire to explore, to ask questions, and to listen for the truth. I wonder if she will be drawn to the science of it and I hope she will.
But I also hope she will understand that though science can tell us what a creek is, how it works, and most of the why, it cannot adequately explain the way the sound of the creek on a cool autumn morning reminds you of hope.
I pray that if she comes looking for deer or doves or other game, she will find so much more.
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