Scarred and Beautiful – A Lesson in Courage

A Lesson in Living

I look out my study window. What do I see?

Bird feeders that need filling every two or three days. Why? Mourning doves,

pigeons, and blue jays gulp down the seeds much faster than the tiny songbirds.

I see both responsibility and greed.

Or

Two blue jays talking together as they enjoy their breakfast, just as Tom and I do

every morning. These jays are beautiful. What a treat to have them so close. I can

see their bills chomping on the seeds and offer them a smile when they look my

way. God’s world is amazing.

I look out my study window once again. What do I see?

A dying tree—only one-third remains. Will I have to cut it down in the spring? Behind

it, in the neighbour’s yard, stands a giant maple that used to be magnificent, but

now its centre is gone, destroyed by last spring’s ice storm.

Or

My dying tree, what’s left standing tall, with leaves still light green in the middle,

changing to bright yellow and tipped with red. I see hope, determination, courage,

and beauty in my tree. Behind it, the giant maple in the neighbour’s yard is a brilliant

red, every leaf fully turned. Resplendent with colour, it still bears the scars of last

spring’s ice storm. Once again, I see hope, determination, courage, and so much

beauty.

We are in charge of what we see.

Outside my study window, God’s paintbrush has been busy, reminding me:

• that today I have been blessed with life.
• Reminding me that I am not alone.
• Reminding me that I too have determination, courage, and many gifts to share.

Richard Wagamese says, “Every encounter we have with human, animal, plant, rock—every encounter with the familiar or the strange—has the potential for wonder, mystery, transformation. I don’t want to miss it.”

Outside my window every day, I see the mystery and beauty of God’s world. I give thanks for the ability to see goodness and beauty rather than dissatisfaction and judgement. Remember that you, too, are in charge of what you see.