Two hundred.
I'm not sure why some numbers are milestones and others aren't, but two hundred seems like such a feat that the remaining days in the year seem like nothing. They'll fly by. And then what will I do on day three hundred sixty-six?
I've learned many things over the past two hundred days. I've especially learned to pay attention, to not ignore the piece of paper on the ground, to dismiss it as litter, but to see it as something that was designed by hands that shaped it into an airplane, hands that released it into the wind and trusted and hoped that it would soar.
Today I found sunglasses near the bridge and much like the paper airplane from yesterday, the sunglasses also tell a story. They belonged to someone. They didn't fall from the sky. They have been lost and someone is missing them, maybe someone reading these words today.
In the same way that a paper airplane or a pair of sunglasses were designed by and given to be used by human beings, we must remember that nature was designed by God, that nothing is trash, not the fallen leaves, not the pine cones, not the palm tree husks, even if they look discarded and cast about by the wind and weather. Everything serves a purpose. Everything is beautiful and right and good.
I'm not sure why some numbers are milestones and others aren't, but two hundred seems like such a feat that the remaining days in the year seem like nothing. They'll fly by. And then what will I do on day three hundred sixty-six?
I've learned many things over the past two hundred days. I've especially learned to pay attention, to not ignore the piece of paper on the ground, to dismiss it as litter, but to see it as something that was designed by hands that shaped it into an airplane, hands that released it into the wind and trusted and hoped that it would soar.
Today I found sunglasses near the bridge and much like the paper airplane from yesterday, the sunglasses also tell a story. They belonged to someone. They didn't fall from the sky. They have been lost and someone is missing them, maybe someone reading these words today.
In the same way that a paper airplane or a pair of sunglasses were designed by and given to be used by human beings, we must remember that nature was designed by God, that nothing is trash, not the fallen leaves, not the pine cones, not the palm tree husks, even if they look discarded and cast about by the wind and weather. Everything serves a purpose. Everything is beautiful and right and good.
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