Wednesday, October 05, 2011
Of Suburb Sparrows and Me...
So this morning Tom left for a doctor appointment and to also help Naomi find a car to buy and I have been playing house all day long. Well, that's what it feels like, anyway, especially with the sun shining in the windows and me going around in my house skirt, though I do keep forgetting to wear a vintage apron!
But while I mowed the lawn our new milk delivery guy, Tom (remember Bob The Milkman? Tom's his son), well, he delivered the milk bottles and things to the milk box on the front porch and waved to me. I waved and shouted, "Thank-you" to him over the loud mower noise and wow, you can hardly feel more 1930's than when you're mowing in a 1930's neighborhood and the milkman leaves milk bottles right beside your front door.
Oh my, the suburbs are the place for this retro girl. Out on those 4 acres I saw work (work, work, work!) needing to be done wherever I looked, but here? I finished the lawn in 15 minutes, may not have to mow for weeks, and this yard pretty much takes care of itself. I look around here and I see peace. Contentment. And I've got oodles of time leftover to encourage everybody and his Aunt Jane online and in Real Life.
Here, on Earth, it's so not about what big things you own (oh, the burden of that!), but rather, it's what you do with what God gave you and who you become.
Even suburb sparrows are a million times better than their country cousins. To me, anyway. Suburb sparrows appreciate anything you give them. They come in a horde and buzzsaw through the cheap birdseed instead of picking at it for a week and they even peck at the bread crusts I slip into the suet holder with excitement rather than eyeing such a suspicious thing for days, then ignoring it (like picky ol' country sparrows). They stare at me from the shrubs outside the window over the kitchen sink and I like to think they're staring at me so I'll know they appreciate what I give them.
Suburb sparrows are filled with gratitude. And so is this suburb lady.
"There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven--" ... Ecclesiastes 3:1
We had our farm season and it was good, but now we're back to a suburb season, a downsized one, and it is, well, great. I hope these posts are encouraging those of you who will need to downsize soon, but are unsure about it all. When your season to downsize arrives, all will be well as long as you enter into it with joy and thanksgiving--and just be sure God gets into the moving van beside you.