Life at 60 mph
My trip to the mailbox to collect the day’s news and bills often resembles the meandering, crisscrossing trail of Billy in the Family Circus comic.
When I stroll down my driveway and across the road, it’s rarely the shortest distance between two points, and it’s certainly not the quickest.
Near the garage door I stop to admire the velvet petals and deep pink throats of the roses, and I breathe in the sweet fragrance.
As my booted feet crunch down the gravel driveway, I discover tiny flowers underfoot, thriving in the rocky soil.
I find common clover blossoms–some white, some pink-tinted–dotting the lawn.
I stray past the ash tree, sporting tender spring-blushed leaves.
Near the fence I hear grasses rustling in the breeze, pollen sent kite-flying down wind.
I stop to peer into red clover at the edge of the soybean field, and the blossom reveals a tiny, jeweled katydid nymph.
When I reach the ditch near our road, I see purple crown vetch leaning against stiff, grass stems, curling tendrils extended.
I cross the road to our mailbox, but I am distracted by bursts of color–wildflowers sprinkled like confetti on the grassy ditch bank.
I fold the letters and newspaper together, push the mailbox shut, and wait for traffic to clear before walking back across. A semi-truck roars past at 60 miles per hour, stirring up a whirlwind of gravel dust.
The truck driver probably saw none of the wildflowers. He (or she) may not have seen me. How could he notice, when the next delivery beckons, when eyes are assessing the next curve of pavement?
Haven’t I lived my life this way at times, hurrying from work to home to activity to appointment, without any “white space,” without any margins? When I live life in the fast lane, it may be quickest distance between two points, but I miss so much.
“In our rushing, bulls in china shops, we break our own lives.”
The “slow lane,” the leisurely stroll allows me to experience the details of the world and the life God has given me: delicate flowers and painted insects, sighing grasses and crunching gravel, silky petals and even gritty dust.
for your love is ever before me, and I walk continually in your truth.
Psalm 26:3 NIV
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