The New Girl

So there’s a new girl in town named Shelley. Shelley was born in Oregon but moved at an early age and spent the majority of her life in Arizona. I haven’t been there (or the southwest for that matter) myself – it’s on my list – but from what I’ve gathered, while the desert does hold its own unique beauty, there is not much in the way of color or change of seasons. Oh, and the heat, I’ve heard her mention the heat.

Although I don’t know Shelley all that well yet, she is my Facebook friend. I’ve been noticing her status updates, especially over the last month. The reason I bring this up, I’m from the Midwest. I’ve had the opportunity to do some traveling and I always marvel at how stunning nature is at the different locations I’ve visited.

The last time my family came home from a trip, I mentioned to my husband that we need to find something beautiful about Indiana (aside from the people – I love my peeps) that we’re just missing because we’re too familiar with the scenery. Of course, he scoffed. He’s a lifelong resident of Indiana. He’d move to Florida in a heartbeat if it wasn’t for his family living here.

Back to Shelley’s updates. She seems enthralled with Indiana’s weather. For example, we had rainy days; she loved them. Last weekend we had frost. Her post? “We are so excited to wake up to the first frost! It sparkles!” She took lots of pictures of trees and bushes changing colors, commenting she’s soaking it all in. And get this, her friends were excited right along with her. I’m assuming these friends are also from Arizona.

I enjoy the changing colors, but I’ve been paying more attention this year.
Shelley’s opening my eyes to that something beautiful in nature I’ve been craving here in Indiana. I hope her enthusiasm for that first snow will get me through the icy temps and slush that inevitably follows. Shelley, will you invite me to go sledding?

What Nature Means To Me

The evidence of God, Jesus, Mary, the cross, religion, was evident pretty much everywhere we went in Italy on our vacation this summer. It is majestic, absolutely stunning, beyond anything I could imagine, and boy have I dreamed of Italy. It's surreal. I'm still processing I had the opportunity to stand in these historic places, before these wondrous pieces of art, in the Sistine Chapel under Michelangelo's ceiling... I am genuinely grateful for this opportunity of a lifetime.

And though I saw evidence of God in possibly every nook and cranny, where I felt Him, where my heart just swelled in wonder and my eyes filled with tears, was in the beauty of nature seen on the rolling hills of a vineyard, hills covered by grapes and olive trees, rose bushes used as a natural herbicide, the towers of a little city atop a hill in the distance, hazy blue skies and white puffy clouds, the wind blowing my hair and skirt, white cows, the smell of earth, manure, and hay, seeing field after field of sunflowers.

Nicaragua, it now dawns on me, stole my heart for its simplicity, the exotic sounds heard in the early morning hours of birds whose beauty I could only imagine, the howls of dogs, chattering insects, rain on the church's tin roof, the lushness of nature and the human kindness encountered at every turn.

And for me, that's the way I connect with God best.