I Need Only Step Outside...

"The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork."
Psalm 19:1

For the first few years of our marriage, the husband and I lived in a condo. It wasn’t until we found out we were expecting that we decided it was best to move into a house to support our growing family.

During those initial years of condo living, I would catch glimpses of our neighbors in the hallway from time to time, wave “hi,” but rarely would anyone stay in the plain, empty, narrow hallway just to chat. Politely greeting one another, most of us already had our foot in the doorway, ready to disappear inside. As a result, I have come to really appreciate living in the neighbourhood we’re now in…

I love our backyard. It’s not big, but feels bigger because we have no imposing fence that separates our house from our neighbors. While privacy might be a concern for others, it isn’t for me. I enjoy the possibility that when I step out into the backyard, I might be able to exchange dialogue with any one of them. There’s something captivating about being able to peek, even for a moment, into the moving pictures of the lives of those around us…

Watching their children play, savoring the scent of deliciously prepared food roasting on the bbq, gazing at couples working hard at their gardens, eyeing the dog that’s chasing after the bright neon ball, spotting the rabbit hopping across our lawn, listening to the singing of the caged bird that the neighbor hangs on his deck or the hoot of the nearby owl… The tranquil beauty soothing the soul.

To top it off, our yard backs into a forest, specifically, resting perpendicular to our yard, so the rows of trees in the forest carry on into the distant blue sky, beyond my vision. Throughout the year, all I have to do is look out the kitchen window, or from the second floor, the master bedroom window, to view the changing faces of the forest—the glowing white of winter, the vibrant leaves of fall, the dancing and rustling leaves of spring… a complementary background to the blossoming flowers and bushes of the impressive garden resting below it.

As former condo-residents, Lee and I don’t have a clue about how to maintain our lawn. While all the neighbor’s lawns seem to showcase their creativity, diligence, and knowledge of how to sustain plant life—we’re scratching our heads and researching on how to save our dead, yellow grass and prevent another weed takeover. My sister has been trying to convince me to take up this whole gardening thing (what’s wrong with stealing her cucumbers and tomatoes or just taking advantage of the hard labor of our neighbors?).

But perhaps learning the skill of caring for plant life, that is, persevering and exercising patience in seeing the fruits of such an endeavor, might open my eyes to simply beholding more of God's magnificent creation.