A country girl at heart

I grew up with a field of hay behind my house, where we'd go exploring every summer, and come back to search ourselves for ticks and wash ourselves in cold water to avoid poison ivy. To one side of my house, was a strip of scrubby woods. We had our "town" there, houses defined only to those who knew, a currency of black walnuts. In front of our house was the pasture with a few cows where we sledded every winter, the red barn where Ronald, who my little brother idolized, showed us that if you hold a chicken upside down and swing it gently, it falls asleep.

Now I live in a giant city. I love it- the hustle and bustle of a crowd. Being able to walk out my front door, get my hair cut, buy boots, eat a snack on the street, purchase a USB memory stick, and get back to my house in 2 hours without ever getting on a bus, much less driving a car. I love the different feel in different neighborhoods, knowing what section of the city to go to to buy textbooks, appliances, shoes, housewares. . .

But last week, I went on vacation. I went to Boyacá, an agricultural department of Colombia. And I remembered how much I love the countryside. I realized how sometimes my soul longs for empty, wild spaces. How I rest, and worship, and find peace in the stillness of God's creation. Sometimes, here in all the busyness, the never ceasing doing and action, I find it impossible to rest. I can be still. I can take a nap. I can do things to relax- read a book, watch a movie, draw a picture. But so often, I don't truly rest when doing those things. I worry that I am procrastinating. I think about what I should be doing instead.

Of course, part of the reason I could rest is I was on vacaation. There was no internet, and thus no emails I should really be responding too. No computer, so no work on Luz y Vida things that could really be accomplished. No need to house clean or grocery shop, or the myriad of other things that fill my mind at home.

But part of it is the place- the beauty of it, and God's grandeur reflected in it. In a world where you can look at this

sudenly the tyranny of the urgent is just less urgent. God speaks to me in his creation, reminds me of my smallness, his greatness, the perspective of eternity. I can look, I can listen, I can worship, I can rest.

So, now that I've realized this, how do I look for this, moments of rest for my soul and reflection, in the midst of a busy city?