Look Up!

I have walked our 2 dogs, Molly & Ivy, past this large oak tree on the corner of our block dozens of times since we have moved here just over a month ago. It just seemed an ordinary oak tree with a large, unremarkable trunk.  But this morning when I was walking the dogs, they paused for an unusually long time at the base of that oak, sniffing all around as they do.  While standing there this time my eyes traveled up the trunk of the oak to an amazing sight!  The branches of the oak were covered in small ferns and other lush green plant growth.  All of it was clearly not part of the oak tree, but rather was evidence of a living, thriving plant community that had taken up residence on that tree.  There seemed to be an entire ecosystem in the branches of that oak tree.  But I had never noticed it before because I had never looked up!  I had never lifted my gaze from the ground to take in what was around me on a higher level.

How often do we go through our days with our gaze focused on the ground!?  For the past two months that has been where my gaze has been directed.  It has been locked on the ground in front of me as I have been totally task-oriented and focused.  For the past two months I have been consumed with the tasks of closing down our life in Miami and restarting our life in Savannah.  It was not an easy move. 

While our move was complicated by the onset of health issues and unexpected knee surgery for my spouse, I suspect that no move in our modern, hi-tech society is easy.  There are just so many tasks involved in relocating a life: from closing down accounts (and in some cases returning equipment), notifying all sorts of people and businesses of address changes, boxing up your life (and in the process sorting through all your possessions to decide what needs to be moved, what can be sold, what should be given away, and what needs to be trashed) scheduling the move (including assistance with loading the truck), scheduling the start-up of utilities and services in the new location, actually moving all your possessions and then the process of unloading the truck and unpacking the boxes. 

Of course, this is just a microcosm of most of our lives in general. For me I can point to any number of rationalizations for what has been transpiring in my personal and work life for the last number of years that have kept me focused on accomplishing the task in front of me and when it was done moving right on to the next task presenting itself.  This is often praised as good concentration; being focused; responsible; strong work-ethic.  But in the process we miss so much.

With my gaze focused on the immediate task, on the ground in front of me, I miss the hidden ecosystem thriving above my head.  I miss the faces of the people I pass on the street.  I miss the beautiful blue sky above, and the cotton ball clouds gently floating along.  I miss the opportunities to pet the dogs, to play with grandchildren, to gaze with love in my wife’s eyes.  I miss the possibility of engaging in relaxed conversation with dear friends and sharing memories and stories with extended family.  I miss the chance to relish and treasure the places which make the place I live special and then wonder when I leave why I never visited that place or did that thing.

There is so much more to life than attending to tasks and responsibilities.  While many of those things are necessary and need attention, if that is all we pay attention to, we will miss so much of the beauty, wonder, and special moments of life which truly lift it and make it unique and worthwhile.  One of the gifts of retirement is unfettered time.  I want to make sure it does not become frittered time and one way to do that is to be sure to LOOK UP more.  It is also the gift of Sabbath time, which God offers us once each seven days and encourages us to find even more opportunities to embrace.

Taking time to LOOK UP is one action which might lead to more Sabbath moments.

A New Beginning

Five years!  I cannot believe it!  It has been FIVE YEARS since I last posted in this space.  Sabbath Tango went dormant for five years, and oh, so much has happened!  There has definitely been a lot of Tango (more figuratively than literally) during that time and there has been, sadly, very little Sabbath (at least in the sense of true rest, time with God, time to soak in creation and enjoy the life God bestowed upon me.)  So much has happened and, while my inclination is to try to bring you up to speed all at once, I realize that would not be in the spirit of this blog, so let me just say that I am beginning anew.

I am renewing Sabbath Tango, and I believe that the original intent of this space will still be honored by my new postings.  Originally I created this blog to document and reflect upon my Sabbatical in 2008.  The majority of that time was spent in Argentina, learning the Spanish language and the culture of Buenos Aries.  Thus the name: Sabbath, a time of rest, reflection and renewal & Tango, the national dance of Argentina.  But more than that: the title expressed a belief that all of life is composed of a rhythm between pause and action – just like the Tango, which has deliberate movement, highlighted by flurries of activity and punctuated by pauses in all of it.

As I already hinted, my life has changed dramatically recently.  I am not on a new Sabbatical.  Rather, I have retired from my position as local church pastor.  After serving 5 different congregations in five different communities for the past 40 years, the last one for 24 of those years, it was time for me to take an extended “sabbatical” from local church work.  I have done just that and in the posts to come I will share reflections on that experience of saying good-by to a local church and to local church ministry.  I will also continue to post reflections on my new life and on what unfolds as the Spirit guides me into new activity.

I invite you to follow along and pray my reflections may prompt reflections of your own.

Surprises and connections realized in Madrid

Rising above the city of Madrid, overlooking the Royal Palace and the Cathedral, we discovered Egypt in the middle of Spain! In 1968 the Egyptian government made a gift to the Spanish government for their help in rescuing monuments that had been threatened by the rising Nile waters above the Aswan Dam. What a gift! They bestowed upon the city of Madrid and entire Egyptian Temple first erected about 200 B.C.

What an experience, walking the rooms of Templo de Debod felt as though we had suddenly shifted our trip from the hills of Madrid to the banks of the Nile River. The temple was erected to honor the gods Amun and Isis and including side chapels for Osiris and Horus and others. The temple was actually expanded by Emperors Julius & Augustus Caesar after they had conquered and made trips to Egypt. How wild to think: yesterday we walked streets where Romans had walked, followed by Visigoths (who ruled Toledo and most of Spain after Rome fell), as well as many of the earliest monarchs of the Spanish empire, and even Miquel de Cervantes; and now today we walked on stones where the feet of priests and Pharaohs had walked as well as Julius Caesar and Caesar Augustus! What connections we are making with our physical presence in this ancient and amazing land.

After the Egyptian Temple we entered the massive halls built as a temple to human pride, vanity, and obscene wealth and power as we walked through the second floor of the Royal Palace (Palacio Real). The third largest palace in Europe, after Versailles and Vienna's Schonbrunn, the similarities to Versailles are everywhere evident. That should not be surprising since the palace was commissioned in the 18th century by King Philip V. Though he ruled Spain for 40 years, he was very French. (The grandson of Louis XIV, he was born in Versailles and preferred speaking French.) His wife was originally from Italy and her influence is very evident as well, especially in many of the interior frescoes, ceilings, and other decorative flourishes. The palace is huge, with more than 2,000 rooms and though you only tour 24 in the public tour that is more than enough opulence and over-the-top wealth to convey the majesty and power of the Spanish royalty.

While the current King & Queen do not reside in the Palace, living in a mansion a few miles away, this place still functions as a royal palace, and is used for formal state receptions, royal weddings and funerals, and special state occasions (such as when Spain officially joined the European Union the signing ceremony took place in the Hall of Columns.) We walked on the Grand Stair up which all guests walk when arriving for state functions. We cannot remember, but I am sure we trod the same steps some of our Presidents have walked, possible President Bush and First Lady Laura, or President Clinton and First Lady Hilary. Again, it was a day for realizing connections with many, many people are much closer than we usually realize as we live day to day.

A day for exercising the body & the spirit

A walled city where none of the streets are level, they either go up or down, not too steep, but definitely make walking interesting, especially since they are also cobblestone and extremely narrow. God forbid you meet a car coming or going. I actually had the zipper on my jacket clipped by the passenger-side mirror of a fairly quickly moving vehicle as I tried to edge around a corner that interrupted what little sidewalk was present, thus forcing you into the street. Too close a call for me!

Welcome to Toledo! It is a city with 2,500 years of history and somewhat frozen in time about 700 years ago. In fact the city is so well preserved it has been declared a national monument. The ENTIRE CITY! And the Spanish government has forbidden any modern exteriors. (Of course like any government, I guess they are exempt for the new entry they added to the Alcazar when they renovated it into a national military museum is extremely modern. It totally clashes with the rest of the building and the entire city!)

We spent a marvelous day wandering the streets of Toledo (which is exactly what you do. Even with the Guide Maps it is nearly impossible NOT to get lost. At some point it seems every tourist does so, some multiple times, or they just give in and wander and take what the city provides, which is actually a treasure around every bend or corner in the maze of streets.) For a city whose life-blood is tourism, the signage to assist visitors in getting around is extremely poor. You will start down one direction because a sign designates that way to the Mezquita, for example, and then you never see another sign the rest of the walk. Yet along the way there are multiple forks in the road and you enter numerous small plazas with numerous entrances and exits. I have had a far easier time navigating the lakes and streams of the Boundary Waters Canoe Wilderness Area in northern Minnesota than I did navigating Toledo.

Perhaps it is actually designed as a tremendous spiritual exercise?! After all, it is a walled city. Three sides are bounded by the Tajo River. It is set on top of a hill. So you really cannot get "lost" but will always bump into an edge with an option to head back toward the center. It becomes a problem if you are a goal-oriented, accomplishment-driven American who feels you must see "all" of the sights, or at least a major portion of them. So this spiritual exercise of the streets of Toledo will either drive you mad, or it will begin to break through your "expectations" of what must be achieved and experienced and begin to lead you to slow down, grow patient, go with the flow and simply experience what the city, what life, has to open up before you and, if you slow down enough to look for it, surprise you with.

We did see some of the sights: the Cathedral (huge, immense, awe-inspiring, although after a little while inside, it actually began to feel "oppressive" for Dianne), the Synagogue which houses the National Jewish Museum, a second synagogue which was once a mosque, a Christian church, and for a while served as the stables for Napoleon's horses, and the Mezquita, a very ancient ruined mosque which also was once a Christian church and has some remaining Christian frescoes on the ceiling and the walls.

But we also enjoyed a delicious and slow-paced lunch at a little restaurant where the inside was packed with locals and the outside tables filled with tourists from Germany, Italy, USA, and several other places. We ordered the Menu de Dia (a three course meal). We each had the traditional Catalan Soup; Dianne had a veal steak that looked exactly like a Palomilla and I had venison stew (Toledo is known for its wild game options for dining). It was all washed down with a cheap bottle of Red Table Wine and topped off with flan. It was good and the afternoon sun warm and enjoyable and a nice respite in the middle of the day.

We also enjoyed a surprising invitation immediately after arriving and walking up the hill to the Cathedral, by a very friendly man who told us all about a little shop of artisans just 2 minutes away where we could watch them working, for free! We decided to accept his invitation, since it was only open until noon and it was already 10:30 a.m. He walked us down the hill about two blocks to a charming little shop in a back-alley where we were introduced to two gentlemen working on gold damascene jewelry. We then entered their shop and of course purchased some very nice quality craft work from craftsmen who have been plying their trade for 25, 30, and 48 years! It was a pleasant surprise!

Toledo was a good experience at just the right time. It invited us to slow down and soak in the location, rather than keep driving to achieve all the notches we could count on our traveler's staff. After today I feel we are beginning to find that balance we wanted to achieve between sight-seeing and simply living in and soaking up the surrounding culture and environment which is Spain.

Amazing Art & Food in Madrid

El Prado is a museum to rival the Louvre, the Uffizi in Florence, the Art Institute in Chicago and the New York Metropolitan Museum of Fine Art. We spent six hours tracing the evolving career of Goya, from a hired artist for the Royal Court, to an artist who made political statements, to a disturbed man painting his darkest nightmares after living through the horror of the War for Independence from Napoleon, and then viewing the works of Vasquez, El Greco, Ribera, Titian, Fra Angelico, Raphael, & others. Dianne "discovered" a Mona Lisa anonymous knock-off that looked every bit as good as the more famous portrait. It is clearly the same model in the same pose without the landscape background and from the same time period as Da Vinci's painting. There were surprises around ever corner.

But, as amazing as the art museum was, what I really want to share with you today is about the food of Madrid. We embarked on our first "Tapas Crawl" this past evening. This is a Madrileno custom where friends travel from one pub/restaurant to another, drinking wine/beer and eating tapas (basically a Spanish appetizer). At each stop they usually get a plate or assortment to share, or just small individual servings called "pinchos." Anyway, if you are a Madrileno (that is a native to the town) and know where you are going without needing to scope the establishments out and try to size them up, and you are with a group of friends, it sounds as if it could be a fun evening. But as a couple of tourists unsure of the language, the food, and the pubs/restaurants it was actually a somewhat daunting endeavor.

The first place we stopped was a vinoteca (a wine bar) where we had a delicious Rueda Verdejo (a white wine). But, though they had a tapas menu on the table, the waiter did not return to take our order. We did not see anyone else eating in the place, so we assumed perhaps the kitchen was closed (they were advertising on the door for "help") but when we went to leave I asked the waiter if there were "no tapas" tonight and he look rather flustered as though he had missed a sale. We then checked out several more places, all of which either seemed over-priced or what I could understand of what was offered I wasn't sure I wanted to eat. We finally got off the beaten path and discovered a wonderful little neighborhood place: La Tia Cebolla Taberna (Auntie Onion's Tavern). While it appeared rather rough around the edges we dove in. The wait staff was very helpful and we enjoyed a free offering with our vino rioja (red wine) of fruti del mar (a seafood salad, which included octopus slices). This beginning was good, so we proceeded to order and then enjoyed a lovely salmon & brie on toast and the house specialty a Don Paco, which was a hot open faced sandwich of toast, tomato slices, ham, covered with melted manchego cheese, flavored with pimiento powder & basil flakes. Both were very healthy servings and were wonderful. They filled us up so our crawl basically ended there (I don't imagine a true Madrileno would end the evening after just two stops!) except for the cafe we stopped for a hotel/bar near our own hotel. I am not sure we are fans of the Tapas Crawl, but we have experienced it!

The Spanish diet is heavy on meat (much like Argentina) except that this time it is weighted toward pork rather than beef. That is very clear when you visit the Museo de Jamon (yes, that is the Museum of Ham!) This deli/restaurant is a Temple to Ham, with large leg portions of pigs hanging from the rafters and almost everything on the menu incorporating some type of pig: ham plates, ham sandwiches, chorizo sausage, etc. This is mostly a dried, salted, type of ham which is much closer to prosciutto than to our ham steaks or spiral cut hams in the US.

Overall, we have found the food very good. We had a most exquisite gourmet dinner our first evening here. We started with mushroom croquettes, followed by two cuts of veal which were wonderfully prepared, and ended with a cheesecake dessert which was basically a form of upside-down cheesecake in a bowl topped with a delicious cream and berries, along with cafe espresso para mi y cappuccino para Dianne. The owner, waiter, and chef were all very young and most attentive. It was a wonderful introduction to Spanish cooking. I fear we will not lose any weight on this vacation!

Madrid is very familiar!

It feels like coming home! Arriving in Madrid and I feel as though I know this place! The architecture, the busy streets, the clothing the people are wearing, all feel very familiar. I even know where to look on the sides of the buildings at the corners about 10 feet up from the street to find the street sign to be able to identify the streets and know where I am! Madrid feels exactly like Buenos Aires! The sound of Spanish fills the air and mi Espanol es vuelve!

Walking the streets yesterday with Dianne had the same feel as walking the streets in Buenos Aires. Except, cleaner! No dog poop on the sidewalks! We have seen fewer dogs being walked than in Argentina, although one group did bring a HUGE Harlequin Great Dane (beautiful dog) into the restaurant last night as they sat at a corner table and had their drinks and tapas. The dog was amazingly well behaved and after it settled down in the corner you barely knew it was there.

It really should not have surprised me that Madrid would feel so much like Buenos Aires. After all, BA was founded and settled and created by people from Spain! It is that old colonial attitude still lurking in my brain that whatever we have in the New World (the Americas) is truly new and unique, forgetting that our ancestors arrived from Europe (most of them) and it was their culture which they brought with them. The connections are clearly here in Spain to see and it is one of those reasons I like to travel: to be reminded of our connections with the people of the past and our relationships at a DNA level with people all over the world.

I am posting a few pictures to illustrate what Madrid feels and looks like. In a future post I will add a link to more pictures. Buen dia!

Memories Triggered by Familiar Sounds

The sound of the cicada's was omnipresent. The distant moan and rumble of the train washed over me like a warm shower. But it was the church bell's - just a brief Westminster chime sounding the quarter hour - which evoked the memories triggered by familiar sounds. I had not heard the sound of church bells in ages. A carillon used to sound from the steeple of Columbia Presbyterian Church, located right next to the Columbia seminary campus, several times a day, but most noticeably for me at the six o'clock hour every evening. Then First Congregational United Church of Christ in Elkhart, Indiana, followed by Melbourne UCC in Florida both had carillons serenading the local communities, primarily downtown business districts, with lovely sacred music several times each day. When I moved to Christ Congregational UCC in the south suburbs of Miami the carillon was turned off because the neighbors had complained to the County government about the intrusion into their lives with "church music." Shortly after I arrived we briefly turned the carillon back on, just to play the Westminster chimes on the hour, but the neighbors again began sending us nasty notes. Before we could even decide whether to turn it off or not, the carillon stopped playing and we never pursued repairs. Truth is none of the members of Christ Church really lived close enough to ever hear the bells and, other than the Preschool staff, the rest of the staff was never really present to hear them very often either. Still, I do miss the gentle sound of old church hymns played by carillon bells. Hearing the bells always brought me comfort and peace, often triggering positive, happy memories.

While reflecting on the church bells my ears picked up the distant moaning of a train horn following by the rhythmic parting of the sound waves by the passing of the train cars on nearby tracks. Again, the doors of nostalgia opened on past lives. The sound of trains did not become a regular part of my life until I moved to Columbia Seminary in Decatur, Georgia. The tracks were about a half mile away, close enough to hear the train as a distant romantic serenade, rather than an intrusive oppressive presence. Especially pleasant were the late night trains passing and offering a gentle form of lullaby while trying to drift off to sleep following late night studies. The trains followed me to Cullman, Alabama that first seminary summer, and then to Joshua, Texas my second summer, and even to Elkhart, Indiana in my first church after graduation. For eight years trains offered an audible connection with a romantic view of Americana, the earlier history of westward expansion, and a feeling of the transportation lifeblood of the country pulsating with life. When I moved to Melbourne, Florida, even though the church was one block off the Florida East Coast Railway, the trains did not seem to run as often and I can barely recall their presence. Since moving to Miami they have clearly faded the arena of nostalgia.

Strolling comfortably with these audible memories suddenly the cicadas jumped into my awareness. They had been providing an omnipresent backdrop of white noise so prevalent in northern climes in the temperate zone where forests with significant growth of deciduous trees are the rule. Sitting on the porch where we are staying, the sound of the cicada's ebbed and flowed, swelling to the crescendo that surrounded and enveloped as though it was a physical presence, only to fall to pianissimo level that never fades away, remaining at the lowest level of audible awareness.

I am not as aware of the sounds of my life in Florida as I was during this early morning meditation. What I did recall at that moment, becoming aware of their absence, is the sound of birds that are very present in Miami. There were no songbirds this morning. I don't hear songbirds in Miami either. Our birds are not the melodic type. We have mockingbirds and doves, jays and crows, parrots and peacocks, all joined by the squirrels. They offer more staccato, or screeching, or haunting calls rather than melody, but it is very present.

I will need to listen more closely when I return home to identify the prominent sounds surrounding me, providing the sound track for my life.

(The pictures offer a taste of the setting for this auditory reflection.)

A Most Unusual Sabbath Moment

I continue to struggle, obviously, with my commitment to write every day in my journal and regularly on this blog. I still am not quite sure why. I do believe I am having trouble managing all my email and my addiction to information on Facebook and other blogs. That may be more excuse, or symptom, rather than actual issue, but that is where my thinking is moving right now.

I did have a reflection that grew out of a rather unique "sabbath" moment. I will share part of the reflection and then maybe add some more comments afterward. This is what I wrote one night back in January while I was on-call for VITAS Hospice and attending a death.

So I'm sitting in a patient's room in a nursing home, waiting for the funeral home to come and transport her body. On the wall facing her bed, in this otherwise very cold and sterile environment, is a small print of Seurat's "La Grande Jatte." It is a rather interesting painting hanging in a strange setting, so that I find it rather absurd. The painting is full of life, though somewhat surreal due to the pointillism style of design and due to the strange aura of underlying horror, sadness, uncomfortable feeling that pervades what, on the surface appears as a happy painting about people enjoying a bright day in a park. Having thought about it, perhaps it is a most appropriate print for a place where there is horror, sadness, and great discomfort being lived out every day in a facility that makes only a token effort to mask the horrible reality of people aging and dying without the presence of real love and often in great loneliness.

I always think of my son, Paul, when I see that painting. It is one of his favorite pieces of art. I called him in Salt Lake City (actually I texted him and then he called me back) to share my experience with him of seeing this print in this surreal setting. We had a very good conversation. He has clearly begun a new life for himself in Salt Lake City. His family, me included, clearly wants to still take care of him and cushion him from the harsh realities of the world. But I am growing to believe that he needs to find his own way in the world - even if it means taking some lumps along the way. I know he has a good foundation we gave to him. I know he is a smart young man and I truly believe he knows we are there for him. I trust him to himself and the arms of God and know he will be OK.

I do not often have a chance while I am working for VITAS to spend time in reflection and in jotting down some of those thoughts. Usually on a death visit I am very focused on family members present and helping them begin to cope with their grief over the loss of their loved one, as well as handle the details of calling the funeral home, dispose of the controlled medications in sent to the patient, and fill out the paper work to document the death and what I have done.

But in this case, there was no family present. Family was notified but chose not to come to the nursing home. There was no staff present, they were off handling other patients. So it was just me alone, with the dead patient, and my thoughts. It turned out to be a very positive and helpful "sabbath" time for reflection about life, death, and my relationship with my son.

What I learned out of the experience was to be alert for those moments of "mini-sabbath" opportunities that occur along the way. They are most irregular. They often come out of the blue, usually when you are not really looking for them. But they can be very powerful, both in terms of nurturing my soul, my spiritual life, but also in terms of nurturing my heart and mind. They can bring a refreshing sense of mental and emotional renewal, as well as spiritual renewal. A new step in the dance of Sabbath Tango!

The pictures are from the Art Institute in Chicago, the Seurat painting "La Grande Jatte." The larger picture is the whole piece. The closer view of the little girl in the middle begins to illustrate some of the underlying unsettling feelings in the picture.

Celebrating God's Continuous Epiphanies

Epiphany is the celebration of the truth that the God we worship through Christianity is a God who has revealed God's self to the world. Most clearly we Christians believe that revelation has been made through the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the Anointed One of God, the Christ. Epiphany is the Feast of the Magi, or Three Kings. It is a celebration of light bursting forth into a world shrouded in shadows and darkness.

Unfortunately I did not get up early this morning and walk to the bay to view the sunrise, which would have been a most appropriate way to mark the Day of Epiphany. But temps in the high 30's in Miami are way too cold for those of us who have lived here long enough we no longer have body memory of freezing weather. So, I stayed in my nice warm bed and gained an extra hour of sleep, which I never seem to get in sufficient quantity.

Yesterday, however, the 12th Day of Christmas, I did not receive "12 drummers drumming" but I did enjoy a "revelation" experience. The night before I was on-call for VITAS and had to attend a death at midnight, an event which lasted until 4 a.m. Again, my sleep was inhibited, so I slept late (until 9 a.m.) and decided I had to go for a walk before going to work, so I took my walk to "The People's Dock" late in the morning before noon. ("The People's Dock" was the name of the public landing that abutted the south side of the Deering Estate property in the early 1900's. Access to that dock is still public, even though Miami-Dade County Parks have expanded the Deering property southward beyond the "South Wall". Since my traditional walk destination on the bay has been closed for six months of renovation work, I now walk about a half mile further to "The People's Dock", which in many ways is actually a superior location from which to view Biscayne Bay, some mangrove islands, and of course if I get there in time, the sunrise.)

Anyway, upon arriving at the Dock, I paused before taking in the water view to peer over the gate in the South Wall of the Deering Estate, just to see what I could see and was surprised to be staring down into the face of a mother raccoon and her two babies. She was equally shocked to be staring up at me. They had been moving out from some heavy grass and I believe were in process of crossing the grassy driveway which proceeds from the gate into the property, probably moving toward the water, when I poked my head into their world! We stared at each other for a brief moment in shock, before she quickly recovered her wits and decided to retreat to the protection of the heavy grass, where I could no longer track her movements. Her two babies followed immediately.

It was the briefest of encounters, but was a marvelous experience. It reminded me again of the much wider, much wilder, creation with which we share this world. Even in what we think of as highly urbanized locations, nature still breaks in and exerts her presence. We share this planet with a far more diverse tree of life than we acknowledge on a daily basis. We are surrounded by a wide variety of birds, even amongst our tallest buildings. Any body of water attracts waterfowl more than we usually stop and appreciate. Though we try our utmost best through our fumigating and exterminating, there are far more insects in our personal spheres of movement than we like to think about. And higher mammals have not yet been wiped out by us, but instead continue to find ways to adapt to our omnipresent influence.

Beyond that, though, the experience also reminded me that I need to remain alert in life and be willing to "look over the wall" to the other side from time to time. (I am not advocating voyeurism, but a removal of the "blinders" I far too often wear as I move through my daily existence.) One never knows what lies just beyond the wall, or in the underbrush, or around the next bend. It is so very easy to develop tunnel vision and never look to the left or right as I move through life. How many "revelations" of the beauty and wonder and glory of God have I missed??? I need to be sure and keep removing the blinders and keep looking for God's next surprise!