30 Days of Touch -- Woods and Mushrooms = Rest

Today has been a writing day. Deadlines have a wonderful way of focusing my attention. But unlike some writers I cannot write all day, hour after hour, without breaks of sorts. This morning I took a long one -- a walk in the woods.

It is a gloomy day, but I donned my boots, Carhart jacket, John Deere cap, grabbed my camera and went to see what the weather had wrought over the past few weeks while I've been mostly indoors. I tried to talk the dog into going with me, but Princess is even older than I am (at least in dog years) and figured there were no coyotes the direction I was heading, so declined. Ebony, the last surviving kitteh went with me part way, but then spotted a blue bird on a low branch -- and the stalking was on.

I walked on alone, feel the moist ground give beneath my old boots. I checked where there were newly fallen tree limbs that would need clearing come a drier day. I saw how much more bush honeysuckle needed pulling out, sawing down, or --*gasp* -- poisoned. That stuff is nasty. Much that I had cut last spring and fall, had come back. In force!

I also saw happily that in spite of some heavy rain, the creek bank had not eroded much. And I uncovered some of the tree saplings that had been engulfed in weeds and grass over the summer.

And, though the light was not great, I got some decent shots. Fallen logs covered with moss. Winter mushrooms. And then I heard shots. Close. To close. Very rapid. Large caliber. Large enough to put a fair sized hole in a guy my size, whose dressed in blue jeans and brown jacket and might be mistaken by some doofus as a deer or other critter worth shooting at -- legally or illegally, trespassing or not.

One would think that having 50 acres of land around you would guarantee a far amount of privacy and safety, but it is amazing how small an acre is when someone is firing a lot of ammunition very quickly and you can't tell what direction they are from you or what direction they are aiming.

So I decided to hotfoot it back up to the house. Indignantly, I returned -- my walk cut short.

Still, the walk and time away from words helped settle my mind and soul and get me ready to come back to words. Which I did with a renewed vigor -- and hopefully some decent writing.

I thought about that break as I thought about worship tomorrow. I thought about skipping it since I am in this writing mode. I have to go to Sunday school -- I'm teaching!! But, worship... hmmm, maybe I'll pass. After the walk, I thought, "No." I need to go. It will be the break I need to refresh and replenish my soul. If I am a writing a book that has a lot of God-talk in it, how in Heaven's name could I even consider not going and meeting with the One whom I'm writing about?

I'm slow sometimes. But eventually, God willing, I catch on. So tomorrow morning, I will arise and go to Jesus/ He will embrace me in his arms/ In the arms of my dear Savior/ O there are ten thousand charms.

And rest. Refreshment. Rejuvenation. And so much more.

-- Brent