Catching Idle Butterflies

Do you smell that?

One thing I've always loved about Colorado was being able to go camping deep into the pine forests and far from civilization.

When Dave and I lived there, we would take any opportunity to drive three to five hours, much of it in four-wheel-drive up steep and barely discernable trails in search for that one perfect meadow to set up camp.

Aside from the cool breezes, the sounds of wildlife, much of it unseen, as they sing, chirp, grunt and even screech on their travels through the meadow and surrounding hills, the soft bubbling of the nearby brook teeming with small but delicious trout, what tantilized me most was the smell of pine.

Dave and I met when I started working at a picture frame shop. There we made picture frames of all sizes and of wood ranging from oak to ash, poplar and pine. The very first thing you smell when you walk into the shop is pine, since most of the frames were made out of it.

About two years later, Dave and I went camping. Dave stopped from setting up the tent and asked, "So, do notice something missing?"

I stopped from unpacking the vehicle and looked around. We seemed to have everything.

"Nope," I said. "What's missing?"

"You can't smell pine anymore."

I sniffed and sure enough, I couldn't. Talk about a let down. Suddenly, that pine forest lost much of its appeal, and even seemed flat. I almost wanted to cry, like I had lost something I dearly loved.

Now, over ten years later and no longer working at the frame shop, I still don't notice the smell of pine unless I shove a pine needle up my nose.

Just like the constant drone of an engine or the nuanced smells of your own home that strangers always notice, your senses become numb to the things constantly surrounding us.

I love watching children. Everything is so new and interesting to them, things we adults have forgotten. For instance when was the last time you heard the crunch of grass in a winter morning after a nighttime freeze, or even the way the sun makes your warm breath sparkle in that frigid air as you walk to your car? For me, it's been a very long time. It's a bit disheartening to know all the things I now take for granted, wonderful things in this world I now choose to ignore because I see them as common, every day occurrences.

When Jesus said, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like children.” (Matthew 19:14 NLT)

I’m beginning to understand what Jesus meant by that. The Kingdom belongs to those who retain their childlike wonder and joy of life, taking in everything God has to offer with that same longing to know and to learn. And it belongs to those who love without reservation and have complete trust in Him, just as a child loves a parent, completely and without qualification.