This weekend I’m in Frisco, CO with some girlfriends for a ski weekend. Well, some of them are skiing. I’m snuggled up with a stack of books, cozy sweater, and a latte. I arrived yesterday afternoon, after a winding one-hour drive behind an assortment of semi truck exhaust pipes and jeeps packed with college boys and snowboards. When I got out of the car, I walked into the condo, snow crunching under my feet.
This morning I woke up and sat chatting with friends as pancakes were being flipped. “Isn’t the view here amazing?!” one girl asked. Oh, um, the view? The, uh, view? I guess I hadn’t noticed. I remembered an hour of black tarred roads. I remember passing through a couple tunnels. I remember shuffling my feet through the snow when I arrived. I remember slamming my dirty car door and looking at my phone to see if I had service. But the view?
Walking over to the window, I pulled back the curtain and…
The sky was clear and blue. There wasn’t a cloud in sight. And for as far as the eye could see, snow capped mountain terrain took my breath away. How did I miss this yesterday? Seriously, a person would have to be BLIND to miss this spectacular landscape! The weather hadn’t changed. The view was the same. But yesterday, I had totally and completely missed it.
Driving to the coffee shop this morning, I was blown away by what I had missed. No matter what direction I looked, majestic peaks and evergreen forests sat nestled under the powder blue skyline. Again, a person would have to be blind to miss it. Or perhaps just distracted by the tailpipes and tunnels along the way.
I wonder how much of my life I live this way? I wonder how much of my days are spent staring at tailpipes, tunnels, tarred roads, the snow under my own two feet, and concerned with cell phone service…all while missing out on the world around me. The past 6 weeks of my life have felt like that. I’ve been crawling through my days with little energy to even stand, much less walk or run. No, really. One night my heart was so heavy, it had me on the ground, crawling to the Kleenex box. My eyes got an up close and personal look at how badly my carpet needed vacuuming. Ugh.
I have been crawling through a season of life in which I have no control. Circumstances, curve balls, rejection, and people that I dearly love going through tragic health diagnosis’, just to name a few. It’s had me staring at my feet, staring at the situations in front of me, and worst of all…staring at my nasty carpet. Ugh.
We all have times when crawling through life is about all we’ve got. I don’t believe it’s bad or wrong or unhealthy. It’s just life. But I also can’t seem to shake that question…”Isn’t the view amazing?” When I sit here and take in the view…take in a broader picture of my life, the heaviness lifts, just for a moment. For a moment I see that hopeless is replaced with hope, that faithless turns to faithful, and that one chapter ending can only mean one thing…
A new one is beginning.
While I mourn one chapter and crawl into the next, I am thankful for The View. Because when I pull back the curtain and take in the beauty, wonder, friendships, and gifts in my life – I stop looking at my sick carpet just for a moment. Ugh. (alright, alright, I’ll go vacuum!)
Tis the season to make a list and check it twice. What are you thankful for? What blessings sit unnoticed in your life? What simple things bring joy, delight and healing to your soul? I know when I write my list, the heavy places of my heart start to whisper, “Wow. Isn’t the view amazing?”