I love standing in my utility room, watching farm life through my screen door. In the midst of a hectic day, this mini-break gives me a sense of peace and calms my spirit. The other day, I realized that not only was I getting a few moments of calm, but I was also getting something else. Hope.
My screen door acts as a vigil point. It is from that vantage point I can see the smiling faces of visitors who have come to enjoy a few moments of peace in their otherwise hectic lives. It is where I often stand to watch children as they laugh and giggle while feeding the cows Range Cubes, and grimacing while slinging cow slobber off their hands, only to turn to the nearby adult and beg, ‘give me more! I want to do it again!’
It was there, while gazing out at the cows one day, many years ago, that I first noticed buzzards circling and diving in our pasture. Because of the screen, I didn’t see the full picture, but when I opened it, I could clearly see that they were trying to get at Victoria’s newborn calf. The scene was fuzzy, but it was enough to show me there was a problem. Our boots had wings that day.
One day, I was standing in that same spot watching it rain. Within a few moments, the clouds separated and revealed a rainbow that positively shimmered with color. Just recently, I noticed a big ‘blob’ standing just at the bottom of the steps. The darkness shadowed what it was, but the dogs weren’t barking, so I ventured closer. A step or two away from the screen door, I saw a burst of strobe light in the sky, and realized that blob was the Country Boy watching the light show. I slipped outside to join him, and we stood, rooted to the ground, necks craning upward, to enjoy the Heavenly fireworks show.
Through that screen door, I can get a glimpse of the plans we have made, the dreams we cultivate and the distance we have come. It is as if I am seeing our lives in abstract or watercolor – nothing perfectly clear, but the essence of something beautiful to come. Sometimes the scene shifts and changes, and often it isn’t clearly seen. But it always looks beautiful and full of hope. Even our barn appears as if it will stand for a life time when viewing it through the screen!
The most important thing I have learned is that my screen door is a point of worship for me. It is there that I can see that God really is working in our lives. Leaning against the door jamb and gazing out, I know that my future life may not be laid out in a manner that I can actually see, but it is there, and God is in the process of bringing it into full focus. With some things I can see the actual color and shape of what is coming soon, but some are only vague impressions of what is to be. The scene before me is a vision. Not of reality, but of hope – the very essence of the farm.
Try looking at a scene through a screen door; a scene that is at a little bit of a distance. You may be able to tell what you are looking at, but you still won’t get the ‘big picture’. Some things will be muted, some distorted, some discolored. This should act as a metaphor for our lives. We can’t ever see the ‘big picture’ clearly enough to move forward, but God can. He can be trusted to bring our lives into focus. We just have to remember that when we want something in particular, or wish things were different, and trust Him to offer the best. Our lives are in His hands, not ours. Just look out your screen door, and you will see.