Walking west on Oregon street this spring, I’ve admired a
hanging planter hidden by its profusion of petunias, lobelias and baby’s breath.
Suspended from a small overhang shading the front steps, it completes the
inviting entryway to a frame house. This morning, walking from the other direction,
I noticed a bed of white daisies and purple dame’s rocket, neatly outlined in red brick,
against the east side of the butter-yellow house. Though appreciating the hanging
flowers many times in the last few weeks, the change in point of view added
to my enjoyment.
As creatures of habit, we often find ourselves approaching each
other from one direction. We keep seeing the same characteristics. Even if we enjoy
what we see there’s always more to notice. When we find someone who invites us
in, like a friend does, we can look forward to discovering new parts of them through
different engagements. With old friends, if all our time is spent doing craft projects
together, maybe it’s time to have a coffee and a chat.
We also develop routines with our old friend, God. We sit
down, we read the Word, we ask him to bless our families. Or we walk through
the morning coolness, thanking him for his wondrous creation. Some do breath
prayers—“Jesus, have mercy,” or “Holy God”—as we fall asleep. Others preach the
word or feed the poor. Perhaps it’s time to do a new thing. Choosing an
unfamiliar path will give fresh views of God’s love. Approaching his company from
unfamiliar directions will give new pleasures.
Father, lead us in new paths, where every trail leads to new
experiences of you.