We have a little red wagon we tote on our adventures. Down to the meadow, back through the apple trees and over a now, weedy field. It’s pretty much the same route each time. But lately, we’ve been leaving the wagon behind, because I’m pregnant and the kids get too heavy to pull. Inevitably, one or both will end up in it.
So we’ve been strapping on back packs. My little sweets bounces as she asks why we need them. Bubby fills his to the brim — toys he definitely won’t need. To me, it’s just an added fun. You never know what you’ll find on our little trek through nature.
So we spy color. Leaves beginning to fall. Yellows, greens, and burnt orange. We take a swing on the hammock, and climb between the split trunk of the oak, jumping as many times as possible. We slip on pine needles and collect golf balls that Grampa hits into the meadow. And sometimes we run through the garden, biting into baby tomatoes and tasting green beans fresh off the vine.
Our world provides much scope for the imagination, and my kids have a wonderful life.
But I also have a heart that can hold this stain of discontent. If only I could take all these pleasures and move them closer to town. Maybe then I’d be happy.
Or what if we had more money to fix the little things I don’t like, and take a vacation. Escape this rural life for a week or maybe a month. Get lost in the clamor of the city where life bustles and stirs.
And I easily forget, like the children of Israel, the chains of slavery. The freedom I’ve been given, costing my Lord a great price.
And I want to run free in this gift. Unencumbered. Holiness, something I have only to receive.
I’ve heard it said that it should’ve taken eleven days for the Israelites to reach the promised land. Instead it took them forty years. I’ve also heard it said that it was easier to deliver the Israelites from Egypt. Harder to take Egypt out their hearts.
And I know I carry this heart with me wherever I journey. This same heart that would find discontent in the grand of Paris. Discontent in the wealth of the world.
And so I choose to remember the gifts of today, allowing gratitude to simmer. I think on the crimson stain of my Lord, and I run free. Unencumbered. Holy.
Linking up with Lisa-Jo and the Five Minute Friday Community on the word prompt, red.