Visions of Poetry

Thursday July 23, 2015  THE BEAUTY OF SEEING THROUGH NEW EYES

Tonight I asked Dave what was the best part of his day.  He replied that waking up with me beside him every morning and our time talking is always the best part of his day.  Boy!  Does my husband know how to make points, or what!  I said to take me out the equation and tell what was the best part of the day just by himself.  He responded that it was the time he rested in the backyard and just sat in his chair under the big oak tree looking out at the yard.  I think that is one of his very favorite thing to do and place to be.

Of course my question was loaded because I wanted to tell him what my best part of the day was.  Today I had a full body massage.  You might think that would be the best part of my day but it was not what popped into my mind first.  The very best part of my day was when I decided to tell myself to view the road I traveled as if I had never driven it before.  It is often the way we drive to church so I have traversed it for many years.  But today I used new eyes.  I looked at things like I did as I traveled the long hours across Montana and Wyoming.  When I drove through those states the beauty was so awesome I could barely contain myself.  Such raw and varied landscapes.  In some instances it was like I could see forever and in others the mountains loomed as giant invaders.  And because of the way I viewed my surroundings in these states it’s as if I can just conjure the visual memory immediately and it plays like a movie screen.  Well, today I used those new eyes again to see all that I have missed for years.  It is about a distance of 15 miles.  I wished I had had the time to stop every mile and just randomly take some photos so I could put them on my blog.  I was pressed for time so I could not stop.  I regret I did not snap some of the exquisite beauty of the morning light playing on fields and hills and barns and horses and cows and marshlands, rivers and lake, and unending views from the crests of the hills on which I traveled.  The memories are beautiful in my mind’s eye but lost forever to the world.  I could never go back and see again that which I saw this morning.  A new moment is always different than the last moment.

I suggest you take a look around you and think about looking through new eyes as you travel your beaten path.  Even better yet, take a new path.  When you look with new eyes I do believe God will open your eyes to things you have not yet seen, discovered, or enjoyed.  There is so much around us to give us pleasure but we so often are too rushed and too busy to see where we are.

The massage was a close second to the first.

 

WITH NEW EYES

By Kathleen Martens

July 23, 2015

 

The road we travel most

Is sometimes seen the least.

Take time to see with new eyes

Upon what there is to feast.

 

You may find it interesting

To see things you’ve never seen,

You may be surprised

How your vision is so keen.

 

See again as a child

Full of wonder and awe

When everything was always new

Not quite certain what you saw.

 

When you look with new eyes

Be ready to receive

All that God desires for you

Just because you believe.

 

Believe there is always beauty

To be seen in this darkening place,

And do not be in such a hurry

But slow down your rapid pace.

 

Open the eyes of your heart

For there is so much God wants to share.

And be thankful that you can see

Through His creation how much He cares.

************************************************

This was another jam packed day down to the minute.  I managed time for a car wash, to pick up my camera from the repair shop that I took in a couple of days after I arrived home, went to the grocery store, got back home in time to gulp a quick bite down, arrived at Dave’s medical appointment almost on time, came home and worked non stop for the rest of the day.  Yes, part of the work was on food stuff because this is the day of the infamous BOX.  The rest of the work was getting the house ready for the cleaning lady to come and clean.  Mostly had to put away things that have piled up from the trip, lack of time to sort, leftovers from the room clean-outs for the carpet cleaner.  Not everything is where it should be yet because of lack of time.  But…I’m getting there.  Of course I had to go out a visit with the neighborhood dogs, one which refuses to leave until I come out and love on him.  Murray is his name and he is the regal standard poodle that seems to know he is beautiful and requires personal attention.  I love him!  And then there is little Mr. Personality next door with his jutted out chin that can look ferocious without  even trying.  And we have a ladies pow wow of 5 plus 2 dogs.  We swat mosquitoes and then all rush back to our respective homes so we don’t get carried away.  And I come in and continue working until 9:30, Dave goes to bed and I start writing.  Actually, writing here on my little rickety table in my clean sun room is a highlight of my day.  I love the quiet, the dark windows as I sit two stories high and occasionally look at my little painted ceramic bird that peers over my computer.  And then I read my little calendar for July 23rd and this is what it says:

“On the wings of prayer

Our burdens take flight–

Our load of care

Becomes bearably light.”

 

And I ponder those words and know them to be so true.  I give to God all my burdens and He lightens my load.  If there is something gnawing me in my heart I turn it over to God and I know that He has everything in His care.  I am amazed at the lack of anxiety or fear or apprehension related to my upcoming surgery.   It is just another day I put myself into God’s hands.  It seems more like an inconvenience to me than anything else.  I know it is serious to go under anesthesia.  The unknown as to what will happen in surgery, will I awaken with a full mastectomy, will they find cancer cells lurking…?  It seems to me that I should upset or something.  I even asked God if there was something wrong with me because I don’t worry?  He just impressed in my heart not to worry about it!  So I don’t.  I just have to make certain to take my photo ID and my insurance cards with me.  I have no idea how much a surgery in a hospital facility cost, or the surgeon’s fees, the anesthetist’s fees, and all else that adds up but I received a call today from the hospital so they could tell me what expenses I would be responsible for and how did I want to pay it? I have never had that kind of call before so I found it quite interesting.  I simply told her we would pay it when we received the bill.  She said okay, she just had to know.  I kind of chuckled when she told me my share would be $52 and some cents. (That’s FIFTY TWO DOLLARS).  I could  have understood the phone call being necessary if I had to pay up in the hundreds or thousands, but for $52 dollars?  But I will say I was thankful and grateful that that is all that will be our share. What’s interesting is that our insurance changes on August 1 due to my husband’s retirement.  I am happy to know that for this surgery we have such good coverage.

So now it is night.

Time to go to bed.

Turn off the light

Lay down my head.

 

I thank God for this day

And for my tomorrow

That I walk in His way

With joy and not sorrow.

by Kathleen Martens

 

But before I go I have one more thing I wanted to say.  I have some wisdom I found today that I would like to share with you.  It is on the cover of the book that I spoke about yesterday, “MRS. WHALEY and HER CHARLESTON GARDEN” by Emily Whaley.  This book was published in 1997,  Mrs. Whaley was  86 years old (18 years ago) when it was written.  Her birth date was 104 years ago in today’s time.  I set this stage so you can see the era of which she lived.  The wisdom is written by Emily Whaley and I found it to be extremely interesting, probably true, and something I think we should all ponder as each year we are getting older.

Mrs. Whaley’s wisdom (quote from her book jacket):

“A warning:  Life is full of decisions and you better not waver and quaver over each one or  you will stress yourself.  You will die young and miss your seventies and eighties, which are two decades that can be a delight.”

I would  have like to have met Mrs. Whaley.