The Eyes of Texas...

We went home to Texas hill country this weekend to visit Michael’s brother and his family. Texas hill country is nothing like our green mountain home but it does have a beauty that I love. Like most of Texas, the wide open earth and sky views are breath taking especially at sunrise and sunset. At night one can see an upside down bowl view of our universe sprinkled with star light confetti. Hill country, so named because of the changes in elevation that provide long range views, has groves of majestic live oak trees with green ribbons of streams and rivers winding through its valleys.
If you have never been to Texas, it is hard to imagine the size of the state. There are six distinct mini-states within the one state...east Texas, west Texas, central Texas, south Texas, north Texas and the pan handle. Each part of Texas has its own personality and style and within each region there are variations also. A young couple sat in front of us as we rode the water taxi at the River Walk in San Antonio. Clearly they were from west Texas. The signs? He wore his cowboy hat (not unusual anywhere in Texas) over curly hair along with a big rodeo style belt buckle and worn cowboy boots. She also wore her cowboy boots and jeans. When they spoke, it was pure west Texas, friendly and inquisitive, curious about us and finding a connection with my sister-in-law, a shared acquaintance. Fewer people live in west Texas so it is not difficult to discover people in common. This couple had driven nine hours inside Texas just to get to San Antonio.
I wonder sometimes how the geography of where we live colors our souls. Here in these old, worn mother mountains, green and lush, I feel God holding me in the timeless cupped hand valleys surrounded by steep slopes soaring towards skies enclosed by other mountains. Some feel smothered by the mountains, unable to catch their breath. What is comfort for me is agony for them. They are west Texas people in need of distant open horizons, room to spread out, able to see what is coming at the same time seeing where they have been. All of us, I suspect, have places on earth that call us to them, where our souls rest in a way that is different from any other place. Some of us live in these homes for our souls and call ourselves blessed.
Wherever we live, wherever our soul calls home, it is good to stretch our horizons and see new places, other ways of living. Too often we see our place as the best, our way the only way and forget God is a God of the whole world and loves us all equally. Hearing different accents, new voices, and experiencing worship that is not the same as mine keeps my soul on its toes. The eyes of Texas (and of God) are on me as I stretch to not judge those who are different (not as good as) me. I’d like to blame this judgmental streak of mine on my daddy but I am afraid it belongs purely to me... and to you. None of us are immune to judgement first, mercy second if at all. Thanks be to God for reversing that order when dealing with us or we would all be armadillo roadkill!
Today I will be giving thanks for the many colors of life in Texas and in North Carolina, the life songs sung in Texas twang and North Carolina drawl, and for the God who made us all, male and female, an image of our multi-colored, many faceted creator. We are loved just where we are for just who we are and it is good. Ya’ll out in west Texas come... You’uns in Western North Carolina will be glad to welcome you in the name of the One who made us so different and alike. Mercy, mercy, mercy, Lord have mercy!