I took this picture back in November '09 on the way back from our Thanksgiving stay in Albany. Every so often I like to drive up through Cairo and give my eyes a treat. There's a simplistic serenity that back roads offer to a human soul. We drove past many cotton fields on this trip. Some had been harvested, while others stood still at the doorsteps of Winter. I told Amanda how my dad was mesmerized by cotton fields when he made the trek up to our wedding locale just two year before from Tallahassee. He asked himself why a site such as this had avoided him all his life. I felt the innocence of his sentiment. It was refreshing to hear the childlike wonder from him. EDIT*** I wrote the first paragraph a few days before snow actually fell in south Georgia. So instead of cotton fields mimicking real snow, they got the real thing!
The sight of fresh-fallen snow on a cold quiet morning brings forth a certain clarity to the human spirit. The white powder acts as a blanket for Earth, and the untouched cleanliness of it is ruined by footprints and tire marks. Soon enough the salt-ridden dirty snow wreaks havoc for a car's undercarriage. I draw this parallel to everything else that's pure in life. My life in particular. It's funny how there are days where I feel that my life honors God. But then there are days where I'm that dirty snow messing up things that are not meant to be messed up. I'm not really thinking of anything in particular per se...more of an overall theme attributed to a life of routine. That's the thing: I really do find comfort in routine, yet its downfalls never seem to detract me far from my programmed mind. The mess-ups come in various forms. They happen accidentally, purposefully, and randomly. But most of all...regretfully. Amanda tends to be the recipient these days of my mess-ups. And depending on the severity of them, her variance of emotion ranges from laughing it off to being quiet until I'm ready to come to her professing my false sense of pride. She picked up on my temperment early on in our marriage...although only two years and three months into it, it's most definitely a relative term. She knows to give me time so that my emotional gaskets can cool off and I can approach her with the decency and gentleness a woman needs to be talked to.
In Psalm 51:7, it says "Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow." I wish I could be whiter than snow more often for Amanda. I wish that for all of the men that have regaled their way into a woman's life. To be a man of God this day and age has proven itself to be a very challenging task. Honoring women as if they're the glass menagerie of your life is the exception to the rule instead of the norm. The path I've taken to get here hasn't been one of ease. Suffice it to say that some major and minor hiccups have knocked me off the steadfast and narrow path on more than one occasion - and still does. The old adage of it's not the destination but the journey seems apropos here. But I believe there is more than just the journey to take in. It's true that wisdom comes from listening and experiencing. Every single person in this world has unique things that have shaped and made them the person they are. At some point in my life, I chose to pursue the truest of truths and the good things that God surrounds me with. Have I been incredibly blessed? There's no doubt in my mind. How did I get to this point in my life while others are suffering? Just look around you...you can find tragedy overlapping tragedy. There's a time for mourning and time for growth. But joy is constant and unwavering. People just arrive at it in different times and places in their lives.
In addition to the journey, the the close-knit group that I have held onto so dearly over the years - ranging from family to dear friends - have somehow impacted me to the point where I feel I owe tremendous amounts of gratitude and apologies to. I will be the first to recognize that within the confines of my own comfort therein lies an unorthodox behavior in group situations. Or my against-the-grain/non-conformist views inconveniencing those that I love. I am sure that over time they have rolled their eyes more than a mother does her two-year-old. Let me just say that those people will most likely grace this entry at some point or another. And when they do, please allow me the privilege to say a big thank you for your patience, love, kindness, and support over the years. The person that Amanda fell in love with certainly would've been much less of man the night she MySpaced me.
I don't know if this entry made sense or not, but it was my intention to portray that in life we should strive for purity in our actions to others. When I picture in my head a field of fresh-fallen snow, the purity of it sends chills down my spine. At just the right angle and reflection of light, the gleaming sparkles give off a beacon of hope. That very hope resides in me. And may it sparkle purely...
~KH
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