Oink, Oink

Once, when I was about ten, my father churned past the outer edge of the field that he was plowing, face ruddy with the dust of our Oklahoma acreage. He idled for a moment, bright red Massey Ferguson tractor roaring, and gestured to me with his broad farmer’s hand to hop aboard for a turn around the house. As I stood on the running board, braced for the lurch of first gear, I gazed down between my feet at the churned earth below. Etched there in the field by some random act of the plow was the shape of a heart.


Remember this moment forever, I suddenly told myself. I don’t know why. There was nothing memorable about it; it was just another humid day in mid-America, heat undulating in ribbons of vapor from the ground. But something in my childish soul recognized that it would not come again, and therefore it is etched in my mind with a permanence that very little else can rival. The bucolic bouquet of sweat, diesel, and stubborn clay soil saturates my memories like incense, turning the mundane into something holy.


I wish I could say I’ve been just as wise to tuck precious everyday moments away in my memory banks ever since then, but I’m afraid quite the opposite is true.


Have you heard? Life is fleeting. Time is deceptive. The days are evil. That’s right, I said evil. Says so right here. In other words, the days are crafty little buggars. They lull you into a false sense of security, of feeling like nothing will ever change, and all the while…it is.  Antique Mommy’s post here was yet another reminder to slow down, enjoy the moment, and most importantly, to plan for joy in our everyday moments. She does not advocate trying to fabricate joy, but to simply expect it. To be ready for it.


To have eyes to see it.


There are pearls in these days of ours. Pearls straight from God’s hand in the form of sunrises and sunsets, gentle breezes and fierce storms, clamoring voices and bubbling laughter, messes and mishaps. Is it possible that the irksome interruptions that derail me from my goals are themselves the goals instead? Too often I am the sow trampling those pearls of opportunity under my feet: unthinking, unappreciative…unwilling.


You’ve heard all this before. So have I. Taking our lives for granted is a priviledge only possible for a small percentage of the world’s population, and I’m part of that. I don’t want to be guilt-ridden, I just want to do better. And so I’ll keep saying it, if for no other reason than to remind myself to pull my head out of the mire.


Because someday, instead of mindlessly mucking about in the feed trough, I want to spy the pearls that are right in front of me. I want to pluck them up out of the mud, polish them, and string them on cords of gratitude to the One who scatters them with such indiscriminate liberality.

23 thoughts on “Oink, Oink”

  1. I was thinking thoughts along these lines yesterday and laying awake last night. You have expressed it so beautifully. I have handful of those ‘remember forevers’ tucked into my brain. I did that from the time I was very young. Not so much these days, when I really ought to be more grateful.

    Thanks for reminding me.
    PS how long til Rose’s Posey is due?

    “Rose’s Posey”…I love that! She is due April 4th…we’ll see if she takes after her dear old mum in going late. I hope not, for all our sake’s. ;o)

  2. After reading one of your posts, Jenni, I feel like I have the writing skills of a six-year-old. I am so glad you share your talent with all of us. You are one of my pearls today.

  3. Thank you for the reminder.
    “Is it possible that the irksome interruptions that derail me from my goals are themselves the goals instead?”
    So very true.
    And now, I go to clean up another mess. OH – I mean enjoy my children! 🙂

  4. True DAT! I often tell myself “remember this moment” but I think I do it too often…they don’t stick. But I guess it at least proves that I am able to stop and savor every now and again and have a moment worth remembering. Thank You, Lord!

  5. Jenni,
    A comment from wonderful you to silly ol’ me – you made my day!
    And the Lord knew I needed to read Psalm 112 – verse 7 is perfect for me as I am in the middle of a conflict right now, and I need to just be fixed on the LORD.
    Thanks for sharing those verses with me.

  6. How could I have forgotten? I don’t understand.

    Thank you so very much for this. Meat and potatoes for my soul. (Or should I say BBQ’d pork and beans?)

    Seriously though – I’ll be passing this on.

  7. Jenni, you were the final pearl in a strand of beautiful ministry that God used to restore, encourage and bless me today. Thank you dear friend. I love you to pieces.

  8. LOVE this – so true. I have often had that “remember this moment” feel, but usually when I’m at a famous European landmark (years ago). Lately though, I’m experiencing it a lot with my kids. The years do fly, and I want to remember these sweet moments while they’re here with me. Bless you for the reminder!

  9. A most excellent post. I pray that I take these words to heart and remember the truths in it constantly. Thank you.

  10. I’ve commented before but it’s been months. I truly enjoy your blog even though I haven’t written. So, delurking again to say “Amen.” What a great post. Am struggling through some muck right now, so this was a needed reminder. Thank you.

  11. I found you through a link over at the lovely “Prairie Prologue” today and just wanted to say how beautiful this post was for me to read.
    Thank you :0)

  12. Late showing up, but love this. There seems to be this thread weaving through the blogosphere lately. One reminds another and another, and next thing you know, we’re all having tea parties and slowing down and noticing. Seeing. Taking in a moment.

    Thank you for weaving the thread through here with your own insights and observations. Where will it flow next?

  13. Wow. I’m a new visitor here, but felt I must comment. This was superb. You are a GIFTED writer. Thanks for a wonderful read (and a timely reminder to go and play with my kids RIGHT NOW!)

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