My Father’s Eyes

It has been interesting since last writing and reflecting on my Dad’s Korean War journal (see previous entry) how much my father’s ability to focus on beauty has stayed with me.  On a recent morning walk, rather than just “plugging in” and focusing on getting done I breathed a bit deeper and saw with fresh eyes the amazing beauty of the world within a thirty minute walk from our home.  Sometimes I become what? –color-blind, perhaps — to the beauty of the place in which God has placed me.  I become full of the worries of this world;  or consumed by the needs pressing in on our lives, that the very opportunities to worship are lost on me.  I don’t have a lot of “free” time to worship, but training my eyes and my heart like my Dad’s to see beauty in my everyday lifts my heart out of its current encumbered state to a much wider, and more beautiful place.

(above:  a farmer out weeding his newly planted rice crop;  a local neighborhood shrine entrance; a small offering at the shrine;  Below:  a cluster of bold irises allowed to flourish in precious rice territory that took my breath away)

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