I took Dusty (our dog) and limped down the super steep hill that our cul-de-sac extends from and set out to walk the main loop in our neighborhood. Our house is at the front of our subdivision and because of our close proximity to the entrance and exit, I rarely walk through the rest of our neighborhood. And boy am I missing out.
When you can't run and are forced to walk, there's time to soak in the scenery. My head was on a swivel as I noticed freshly painted homes, hills with houses somehow nestled safely on the steep slopes, and more preserved old trees and green space than I remembered before. Every step brought a fresh view of rolling foothills dotted with vineyards and trees just starting to turn the colors of fall. The pristine golf course was covered with golfers and old growth trees adding challenge and beauty to the course. It was the last day of September and I giggled as I saw not one, not two, but THREE moving crews on the same street, moving family treasures into just-finished houses. I inhaled the scent of freshly spread mulch, enjoyed getting sprinkled by a wayward rain cloud, and stopped to gawk at a pristine flower garden brimming over with flowers in all shapes and colors.
The Lord reminded me of my conversation this summer with my sister-in-law about slowing down to meander. As I limped up the hill to head home, I thanked God for His extravagant provision of such a lovely neighborhood. I thanked Him for the slow healing work He's doing in my knee. And I thanked Him for the chance to meander with Him on a fresh, fall day.