Sunday, May 16, 2010
This is the summer Sis will learn to ride her bike. Maybe. The training wheels are off. It is time. But since she began walking she has spent most of her moving moments looking to the right or the left. This has brought her into bruisable contact with trashcans, poles and sharp, spackled corners in more than a handful of states. And to ride a bike, you must look forward. Concentrate. Point your nose in the direction you want to move and smash the pedals like you mean it. In her training wheel days Sis saw much of the periphery. Gravel and ditches. To ride she will need to find a point on the horizon and focus.
I recently read that farmers of old would employ such a strategy when in the field. In order to till and plant straight rows they would choose a tree or building in their line of sight before starting the engine, never looking behind to check their progress. Because looking behind makes for crooked rows and crooked rows, especially visible with a bird’s eye view, are difficult to harvest.
So it is for farmers and the rest of us. The tree of life, tall and majestic offers shade on the horizon. And Christ himself is seated there, in shady repose, waiting patiently. And when I keep my eyes up and my shoulders squarely facing my Maker, the furrows I prepare for seed are straight and long and promising.
“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith . . . “ Hebrews 12:2