Contentment with Limited Perspective?

How does it make you feel when you know you can't see the whole, big picture? Being "limited" is a bad thing, right? I can only make an informed decision if I have all the facts! But we cannot possess all the information that exists. We may think we know it all, but our minds are distinctly finite.

Open Sails on the Sound

These limited perspectives were photographed through the stationary binoculars at the Nisqually Wildlife Refuge.

Far-off Bridge

Top o' the Mountain

More of the Mountain

Although the size of the viewing field is small, the magnification is great -- better than my camera's zoom, and much better than the naked eye.










Across the top quarter of this photo, you can see a portion of the Narrows Bridge. That's a good ten miles from where I stood.













And then there's Mount Rainier. Here you see part of the summit. Distance, about 40 miles as the crow flies.














This pic of The Mountain reminds me of photos taken from the windows of spacecraft, looking back at Earth.







I had fun playing with my toys, both in shooting these photos and cropping them later. Taking advantage of limited perspective, if you will. The narrow view (no pun intended) lends itself to a different kind of contemplation. Maybe it's good to be reminded of our limitations.

Paul noted something like this --

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I shall know fully just as I also have been fully known.

One day, we will know all about everything. One day, we will understand. One day, all will be revealed. Until then, I can trust God who fully knows, completely understands, and whose will is being accomplished. He's looking out for my very best interests, and He sees the minute details as well as the really big picture.

"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the Lord, "Plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope."

We don't get it all now, but it's okay. Might as well make the most of this and enjoy what we've got!

Quiet Day

Maybe a little headache is a good thing.

Busy day yesterday. Went into the city for a wedding. Traffic was icky, but the wedding and reception were wonderful. Weather was perfect. Came home to do some prep for tomorrow's painting/flooring project. Took a two mile walk with Rufus. Spent time with a son, including a trip to the hardware store for a tool... and a jacket for him, and a good colander for me, and browsing new light fixtures.

Today, I woke up with a niggling little headache. Coffee helped some, an after-church nap helped some, but it's still there. I had a good chat with my sponsor (that's 12-step talk for a mentor), stopped at the store for a new computer mouse and some much needed glassware. Sigh. Still that little headache. Came home and stretched out on the couch next to an open window with sudoku and bird songs. Nice.

I am an extroverted introvert. I love being with people, and it energizes me to be with a variety of folks. But I also need distinct alone time. Quiet, unencumbered time to ponder and listen and rest. Time to listen to God and maybe talk to Him a bit. Nice. Very nice.

May you have an afternoon of rest and relaxation, or an invigorating time with friends, to restore your energy and bring a song to your heart.

I Love "The Sound"

After my NaNoWriMo plotting workshop today, I detoured to the beach to eat my lunch and soak up the view. It was a glorious day. Blue sky, golden and russet trees, and Puget Sound was dark bluish-green with whitecaps. While I was there, a cargo ship crossed way, way out in the channel, moving from Tacoma to Seattle and eventually to the Pacific. The wind and the distance gave the ship a cloak of utter silence; this, too, was beautiful. At the tide line, I found a tiny clam shell, perfect and clean.

The tide was way in, leaving a narrow strip of sand. When the tide's in, it doesn't only make the beach smaller. The water level is noticeably higher, so that it was almost at eye level from where I sat. The difference in perspective from high tide to low is subtle but powerful. It really does make a difference if you're looking down on the water or straight across it. Somehow, high tide invites me to share the water experience. At low tide, looking down at a broad expanse of beach and water, the Sound is emotionally distant. High tide comes to play, to lap at the bulkhead, and taunts you to take out a canoe and paddle over to the overhanging trees against the shore.