Yesterday early morning I heard my feller rumble up the gravel drive in his truck; scrub pants and a tshirt on, homemade scrub cap in his bag full of pens and notepads and journals of all kinds.
He left the role of Husband, Dad, and Farmer behind for another dark-to-dark day of doing his very and mightiest best to understand, just a little bit better than he did the day before, how to treat a packed-tight hospital full of people with Covid.
I had expected to feel just a little sad about the day,
it being Thanksgiving and not having him around
or our usual house full of guests.
But the fog was too pretty.
(I hate fog!)
I had read in Psalm 98 how the sea, the hills, the world itself sings for joy together before the Lord.
And I was seeing it before my very eyes in the sunrise beams over the pond, in the red birds hopping delightfully around the feeder out the kitchen window.
At the bottle calf we named Holly coming up yet another morning to the sound of the bottle-carrier’s footsteps with her wet nose lifted, her tufts of black hair swirled into a perfectly centered cowlick just above her eyes.
It was impossible to not sing in my soul with everything else for a bit.
I had read in Matthew Henry’s Commentary on that Psalm that the “plainness” of the righteousness and salvation of God is such an easy thing to see.
“He has openly shown it….
it is written as with a sunbeam, that he that runs may read it.“
What used to be a mystery,
now beautifully written out right in front of the faces of the most common people,
as we do the most common things.
“…he that runs…”
There will be a house and laundry and all the food, bickering, hurt feelings, farm chores and a trip to town and maybe a treat thrown in today.
The boys will be up early, the teenage girls will want to stay up late. It will be full throttle all day long; it will be running.
May God give us all a vision of that right-ness before God that we have, and that salvation from ourselves,
written in the plainest and most beautiful ways before our eyes-
even as we run today.