The light of the eyes...

The light of the eyes rejoices the heart, and good news refreshes the bones. Proverbs 15:30


The summer season of extroversion is coming to an end. Last Sunday we hosted the 119th Birthday Celebration Dinner for our church at Sabbath Rest Farm. It felt like a family reunion. Children were everywhere. The toddler twins, Darrence and Tarrence, went from pillar to post entertaining everyone. There was horseback riding, hay rides, plentiful wonderful food (who knew sauerkraut could be a salad?), storytelling and laughter. Alexis, terrified of riding Junie B, was given the consolation prize of driving the four wheeler with Michael by her side. Lawrence and Clare had the deck audience mesmerized with their foolishness. For the children and some of the adults it was their first experience with cows, ducks, chickens, donkeys and horses. As it always does, the wide open spaces on the farm let our souls expand and our spiritual backbones relax.
We live at the top of a hill not a mountain. Flatlanders often react as if it were a mountain but it is just a hill. Trees shade our home on one side but our long distance views are beautiful. From our back deck we can see ripple after ripple of mountains and watch the sun rise from our bedroom windows. The sunset deck is a setting place to see not only sunsets but moon rise also. The views in that direction include neighbor homes and farms.
I remember Jeannie calling me that day long ago telling me I had to come now and see this place she had found. We two couples had been looking for twenty acres or so for several years planning to buy and divide it. As we drove up the old rutted road Jeannie was saying “This is the spot I think you would like and I love the spot across the valley with the view of the old barn”. She was right. I did love the spot she named as ours and I love it still. Instead of twenty acres, we ended up with fifty four acres and formed a farm partnership.
Ten years have passed and I carry in my heart the memory of the light of my eyes when first I saw this beautiful place, Sabbath Rest Farm. And every morning when I wake to the feeding of the five thousand, the light burns brightly as I make my way across the horse pasture. The hills and valleys are wreathed in mist and the sun shines a golden light over the far away mountains. I have seen more rainbows here in the past ten years than I have ever seen anywhere else. They dance across the mountaintops against the dark cloud backdrops of rain yet to come.
I live in a place on this earth that calls to my bones. I carry the knowledge of these ancient mountains not only in my bones but in my soul. From my earliest memories, these old rounded mountains have called my name, calling me home.
As I prepare for the season of Advent darkness, the light of my eyes and the good news of this farm, my place on God’s earth, will refresh my bones and I will rejoice in Light from the past and Light yet to come. Darkness cannot quench the Light that sustains and surprises me through seasons of suffering and the grinding sameness of daily living. The Psalmist said “This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it”. And so I shall.