Sitting in the breakfast room, just checking my phone, I hear a voice,
"Honey, will you go out and get the mail?"
"Sure", I replied and promptly went out through the side porch and started toward the front of the house.
Walking around the south side of the house to the front, I exited the grassy area onto the drive and moved toward the road and the mailbox. Partway down the drive I passed the walkway from the front door.
At the point where the stepping stones meet the drive, there is an area with an outside light and a small flower garden.Two clumps of, what I think are Siberian Iris, I spy a hint of color, not rising out of the clump of green, but buried deep inside the flags, the foliage we might call the leaves.
A splash of purple at the bottom of the plant, hidden from view until you stand right over the tall green flags, and look down from above.
That is pretty neat, I think as I continue my short walk to the mailbox.
Walking, my eye is drawn to a larger white object over by the garage. I take a quick look to my left and see...
Yes, it is my beloved white 2007 Ford Ranger, standing proudly out in the late afternoon sun, just begging for a chance to pose for a shot.
Retrieving the mail, I move quickly back into the house and grab my phone. That truck is calling.
As I return to the front drive and move down toward my Ranger, I pass by the little purple iris and think...
Too often I have made myself the object standing proud in the limelight, when I should have been biding my time, inconspicuously waiting.
Over my lifetime, too often have I sought man's praise instead of being satisfied with God's.
A reminder from a stroll to the mailbox:
God's handiwork is so much more powerful than man's.
