My heart is happy now
I’m staying in a dry cabin next to a family with two little girls. One night the three year old was praying with her dad as she was going to bed; they finish praying and she says “My heart is happy now.”
I went for a run this afternoon (ok, it’s more of a walk with intermittent running). There was a nice breeze (rare in Fairbanks), the sun was out, and the sides of the roads are now covered with stalks of beautiful little purple flowers. They smell so delicious, and the air feels so sweet. I love flowers, pansies and daisies and lilacs. I like flowers like lilies and roses too, but they seem slightly less comfortable. There’s such a knowableness about pansies and begonias, but lilies in particular have their guard up.
Anyhow, running along and thinking about flowers, the way the scraggly black spruce contrast with the slender, shimmying little birches, and about the Father God who only makes beautiful things: I believed at that minute that He made me in a way that’s beautiful to Him, and thought, “Now my heart is happy.”
About a month ago I heard a man speak at church, a missionary from some place that may have been the Philippines.. anyhow, he told about how this one night a few years back while he was driving with his wife, praying and listening (funny how those are two different words hmm), and God asked him what he wanted. He answered back with some sort of spiritual/unselfish (what does that word “unselfish” mean anyways?) response. God asked again, what did HE want?
The speaker had always been fascinated by old Ford models, and had, when he first began to know God, sold a truck he owned because it was sinful to love material things. He’d never lost his love of old cars, so he answered God honestly, he wanted this specific model truck, and proceeded to wait for the lightening bolt (ok, I added that part, but isn’t it a nice touch?) A minute later he saw, on the side of the road, that specific truck broken down and overtaken by weeds. he kept driving, convinced this was a temptation. He told his wife what had happened and she convinced him to turn around. In the end, the lot the truck was on belonged to a man he knew, and he bought the truck for some ridiculously low amount.
Moral: God made us. He made us. He put that switch inside of you that clicks on when you encounter that thing that the switch corresponds to. I like the smell of flowers, and the feel of the sun. I also like reading old books by dead guys who tried to recreate the world in order to understand it. I also like coffee and ice cream, but I think that might be stretching it….