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About the AuthorLooking South
The little cottage I call home, for at least a hundred years, has been a compass landmark. It has served as a vantage point for viewing the landscape in every direction. It sits on the highest peak for miles around.
My cottage is a happy, peaceful place. The front door faces due North. I have windows all around, but sadly the view to the north, east, and west show only the devastation of war. North-east of the cottage in a little valley is a town.
The buildings and houses there are all riddled by machine gun fire. Every edifice shows some signs of the constant air-strikes of the enemy. Bombs fell one right after another. My view to the east and west reflect the same effects, but instead of buildings, it’s with the forest. The trees look like skeletons with limbs broken and bare of leaves.
Thank God for my window in the back of the cottage. It faces south and overlooks my beautiful garden. I can’t take credit for this garden. It was well kept for many years before I moved here.
In my own little way I’ve tried to keep it up. The hedges, flowers, and some vegetables grow here in harmony. Some larger trees surround the garden as if to protect it. It must be working because no bombs have hit the garden, nor the trees, nor for that matter, the cottage itself.
I can’t block out the ravages of war. I can’t ignore the ugliness it’s caused. Death and destruction constantly plague me. I weigh all this, and wonder how I was spared, and how my garden is still blooming. I deal with all this the best I can, for who I am. “War, what have you done?,” I ask myself.
To keep my sanity intact, I have learned to completely enclose my windows to the north, east, and west. I never open the heavy drapes and curtains in those directions. I have my devotions, and my morning while looking over the garden, thru my window to the south. My faith sustains me. I’m reassured that in the midst of the most gruesome adversity, God always provides a south-window.
The cottage is God’s keeping power. The garden is my hope. The trees are the valiant men God uses to protect my hope. I’m not oblivious to the war, but I refuse to allow it to be my focus. I choose rather to focus on the paradise in my backyard, and keep looking South.
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