Friday, November 6, 2009


I happened upon this picture last night while perusing someone's blog:

I sighed.

It is a pictures of a Central Park tree. The air looks crisp and cool. Scarf and sweater weather.

My sister lives in New York City and I sure hope she has strolled down this path:

Have you, Kate?

I sighed again.

It was 92 degrees yesterday.

And then I got to thinking: what is it about my nature that insists I must possess something in order to appreciate it? I find myself responding this way, not only to things, but people. How absurd! But that is why it's called possessiveness, I suppose. The word itself means "the act or state of owning or holding something." To possess something is to control it... to have it for myself... and I would venture to say it is this same desire that got us expelled from the garden...

If there were leaves in my front yard would I enjoy them more?

If this painting were hanging on my wall would it give me more satisfaction?

I don't think so. Not once the initial thrill had worn off...

But one thing I do possess, one thing God gave me, is my imagination... I can close my eyes and in my mind, for far less than the price of a plane ticket, the air is crisp and cold, and my street is lined with stone houses, all of them boasting leaf-bright lawns...

1 comment:

Kathy said...

Its always the beauty of things that makes us want them. It is not the actual physical item, but rather the beauty they possess- for this is what reminds us of eternity and calls our soul to be in love with Him.

Its not the leaves themselves, but the warmth and life that the idea of seasonal change that you/we crave.

I will attest- since my yard is full of lately fallen leaves. And instead of gratitude, I respond with feelings of frenzy- feeling like I should be raking and cleaning, and all the while missing the beauty! Thanks for reminding me to be grateful for them, and take heart in knowing your imagination and heart set on eternal things will bring you more joy than the thing itself. The longing is the gift- an oxymoron, but the way He designed it. Love you.