'You're in the right place'

The weather on Saturday was chilly, and the cloud cover seemed especially thick.

 

Fortunately, my plans did not include much, or frankly any time outdoors, so I proceeded with the errands and destinations of the day, essentially ignoring the weather. After all, it was neither threatening nor inviting, and I had little motivation to pay it any attention.

 

It was with delighted surprise, then, when I noticed a short section of a long line of trees up ahead of me was being shined upon as though with a gigantic spotlight, suddenly looking a bit less like winter and a whole lot more like spring.

 

A quick glance skyward did not show any significant breaks in the cloud cover, yet one had clearly occurred. There, as though specially arranged to remind me that nothing about nature is ever truly “ordinary,” a section of maybe eight trees suddenly showed the tiny hint of green that appears when leaves start to make their first appearance along the branches.

 

The beam of light did not seem to touch anywhere else. Other than the illumination, there was nothing to distinguish the chosen trees from the other 20 or more members of the line.

 

Yet the change the light brought caused me to draw in my breath with delight.

 

There were no other cars on the road at the time; if there was a message, it was for me alone.

 

During the 20 to 30 seconds the illumination–and my elevated perspective–continued, I speculated what the message might be.

 

Perhaps I was meant to realize “God is in the details.” That by having my attention focused on this small set of trees I was being encouraged to recognize that what I had dismissed as ordinary and uninteresting is instead part of a mural of wonders I had taken for granted only because the wonders are constant and are always developing.

 

Maybe the message was that I should slow down–that my usual status of dashing from place to place has me overlooking what’s right in front of my eyes.

 

It could be the light was the message. Even when the clouds seem thick and threatening, we should be receptive to unexpected “enlightenment.”

 

Perhaps it was simple encouragement. “You’re in the right place, doing something worthwhile. Keep up the good work.”

 

Of course, it may also have been pure chance–I, and a beam of light from the heavens, simply happened to be in the same place for a few moments.

 

But that spontaneous, delighted intake of breath removed any element of chance. My spirit was lifted, my perspective was widened, my mood was made brighter, and that beam of light had me focused on the moment and the view around me. I remember looking quickly from side to side, confirming that nowhere else within sight were the trees being made green and vibrant. No circles of light were falling on the fields around me.

 

Whether there was a message or not, beauty imposed itself, and that was message enough.