Perfection

My brother stood before us, not on a bank of the Big Blackfoot River, but suspended above the earth, free from all its laws, like a work of art. And I knew just as surely and just as clearly, that life is not a work of art, and that the moment could not last.– Normal Maclean, A River Runs Through It.

I am not sure if it correctly aligns with Orthodox theology, but one of the ways I know God exists, is the fact that perfection exists.

This afternoon was one of those days. We took my daughter to her very first horse riding lesson.

Now, I did not have a rural upbringing. My dad always wanted to have that for us, and for reasons I won’t discuss here, it just never materialized. For the most part, we lived in rented houses, in working class neighborhoods. I had a fine childhood–please don’t misunderstand. But I have been able to provide my own kids with very much the kind of thing he always wanted. And today I took some pictures.

I even spent a few minutes making some new friends.

I can’t go back and have a childhood with tractors, horses, wide open spaces, creeks and mountains right out my back door. So while I am spending so much of my adult life learning about farming and ranching, I don’t really have to. In some ways, being present for these moments is better. And every one of these moments is perfect. Only God could do that.

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One thought on “Perfection

  1. Surfing, enjoying the farm posts.

    I find it motivating that there are families out there somewhere trying, and doing, and working out the values I admire.

    As some guy keeps writing on his blog comments – carry on.

    Like

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