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[at-l] Searching for the Divine



"Oh Lord, our Lord, how excellent are Your ways in all the earth." This
is a Bible verse that often comes to me while I'm outside. Usually, I
remember it when I have seen something of natural beauty. I grew up on a
small farm that sat along the crest of ridge, we lived out at the end of
a gravel road. All around us were fields and pastures and woodlands. From
my youngest days, I associate the elements, the hot sun and the frosty
winter morning air, hard physical effort, the pleasant odors of the land
with the comfort of the presences of my father and mother. There are
unclear lines of definition between the ways in which I see my Heavenly
Father and my earthly father and mother. I'm very sure that most of how I
view God has its origin in how I knew my Dad and Mom. 

I recall a special moment in my young life. It could have actually been a
composite of many similar moments, but I think it was one actual morning.
I was most likely about 5 or 6 years old. I recollect that I was
"helping" my father feed our hogs. In my mind, I can still see the red
and purple light breaking over the ridge east of our's. I smell the
pungent, sour smell of the mixture of food we fed our pigs, we called it
"slop." I can feel the sting of the freezing cold air in my nostrils and
on my face and feel the morning chill sinking through my clothes. I hear
the frosty ground crunch beneath my feet and I can feel the burning in my
shoulders and arms as I try to carry one side of a 5 gallon bucket Dad
used for the feeding. 

Many times out on the trail, my mind has returned to that pre dawn moment
when my father allowed his life to wash over mine. His life was hard
enough with the labor demanded by all his tasks, but he never minded that
a little boy's efforts slowed his work. 

"Are you doing OK, son?"
"Yes sir."
"Are you cold?"
"No sir."
"Momma will have breakfast once we get done feed'n."

I looked up at Dad through the dim light of that early morning. He was
looking down at me, smiling.
Hopeful
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