Remembering. With Gratitude.

So yesterday I kinda cheated and drove over to our new park, instead of walking there. But I have my excuses. 

Anyway. While I sat in the car at the park, looking out over the water, I considered Nik Wallenda and his impending walk over Niagara Falls on Friday, the 15th. It's been huge news for weeks here, for months he's refused to even consider wearing a safety harness (you know how those Wallenda's are), but since some sponsors say they won't give him a penny unless he does, well, now he's considering it. 

Daily he practices in the parking lot of the casino there in Niagara Falls not too far from us, twice a day, in fact, and the public is invited to bring a chair and watch. Tom and I have meant to go watch Nik practice, at least once, if only for something new to write about in this blog.

Er hem....

So anyway, there I was sitting in the car, window opened for the cool breeze, praying that Mr. Wallenda will, indeed, use a harness over those windy, wet waterfalls. I get nervous when I think about him going without one, for I  remember exactly where I was when I saw, on the nightly news, the film of his great-grandfather's fatal fall from the wire that day back in 1978. 

Where was I? 

In Riverside, California, spending four of my college spring break days house-sitting for my pastor and his wife, a couple I'd known since I was 6. They'd recently moved to Riverside to a beautiful house way up on the top of a wooded canyon where, beyond the hills and brush, Riverside laid sprawled as far as the eye could see. 

Oh, the lights at night (!) and what luxury for me were those four days. I'd been absolutely hating my college experience (long story), especially being constantly surrounded by hundreds of young adults, and ack, the loud music, the back-biting, the teen angst tears and the seldom being alone.

But then came the invitation to house-sit way up on a hillside at this heavenly place! Silent days where I slept-in, basked in the breezes and sunshine on a chaise lounge chair at the canyon's edge, where I spoke to no one and just healed. 

Those were four days of complete bliss. And now 34 years later, more than ever, I see that time as yet one more special gift from God's own hand, something He knew I needed so badly, something He gave me out of love.

God so often gives us perfect gifts and may we recognize each one. And always say 'thank-you."






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"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows".  ...  James 1:17



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