Today I was driving to a meeting and feeling a bit, well, stressed. Even though it was nice getting to drive in the car all by myself, and listen to the radio without having to explain to Ava what all the lyrics of all the songs mean. (It's the simple things, y'all.) Still, my mind was racing ahead to all the things I'd like to/need to/have to get done before baby girl arrives on the scene.
For instance, I am helping plan a women's conference (which is what my meeting was for)that will take place shortly after the blessed arrival. And I know that once she comes, it will be hard for me to do what I need to do to prepare. You know that feeling you get when your brain is yelling at you, "Get on it! C'mon!" Your hands grip the wheel a little tighter or you find that you're hunched your shoulders up around your ears. That's a bit how I was feeling. And there's heaps of other to-do type stuff too, but I won't bore you with the details.
It's just stuff to take care of. And my stuff is no more important than yours of course--but you know how your stuff is. Your stuff seems more weighty than his/her stuff. You're like, "Dude, your stuff's no big deal. You wanna see stuff? You should check out my stuff!" Stuff tends to enlarge in your brain and take on a life of its own. Y'know?
Yeah. So I'm driving along, thinking about my stuff. It was a sunny, autumn day today and I catch sight of a tree coming up on my left. It is a glorious, riotous shade of red--the kind that you only see this time of year. (In this part of the world, that is.) The sun was bright, the sky brilliantly blue, and it really showed off this tree to perfect advantage. (This isn't my photo 'cause I was driving. But here's an approximation.)
Well then I had a little moment. Isn't that nice? It was as if God whispered to me something along the lines of, "You know, I didn't have to make things beautiful. I could've set up the seasons to change and babies to be born and have it be completely commonplace or dull or even ugly. But I didn't. I made it beautiful. I did that for you. I wanted you to see it and think of Me."
As you know, when God tells you to think of Him, it's probably a good idea. And no, I'm not so arrogant to think that God designed autumn leaves just for me and me alone. But there have been several times in my life, and today was one of them, where I feel Him saying: Pay attention. This is for you to see--I put this here and you here with it right now for a reason.
So, I still got stuff. I still went to my meeting. I still have appointments to keep and carpets to vacuum (dear Lord, do I) and a baby to be had. And I don't know if any of this makes any sense. But today when I saw that gorgeous tree, it was like God was saying--Chill, babe. I see you there, driving and stressing. Take a breath, it's all going to be okay. And hey-- look at this pretty tree that I put here. (It's the simple things, y'all.)
That's all. How's your stuff treating you? Shall I Fed-Ex you some red leaves?