On the GO in the Valley

“Now the LORD said to Abram, ‘Go …’” Genesis 12:1

The weather was beautiful yesterday. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping and singing, the deer were grazing in the peaceable kingdom that is our valley – all was and is as it should be.

Of course no day is perfect. It was too nice to sit in front of the computer all day, so my bride and I went out and spent some quality time in the yard cleaning up the winter’s debris from our lawn. There was the usual assortment of twigs and branches that have blown down in the varied and sundry blasts of wintry wind; there were the leaves we didn’t quite get to last fall for one reason or another; we also managed to scoop up many tokens of affection left behind by our ever-growing herd of local mule deer. Ah, spring!

You may think I am complaining, but I’m not. It isn’t that I enjoy playing pick-up-chips in the yard, but I do enjoy the sun’s warming embrace. The other day I drove over to Virginia City on roads that were quite treacherous in the morning – a veritable ice rink – and by early afternoon those same roads were bare and dry.

Winter’s not done, of course, but her icy grip is weakening. The frigid blasts of cold Canadian air are giving way to more moderate breezes from the south and west, and I like that. Where we have spent much of the past few months hunkered down, weathering the winter storms and sub-freezing temperatures within the confines of hearth and home, we and our neighbors are increasingly anxious to enjoy what is yet to come: spring thaw and warmer, more pleasant days.

“I lift up my eyes to the hills,” says the psalmist. Each morning the sun rises a bit earlier and makes its appearance just a tad north of where it rose the day before. A month ago it hove into view just above the saddle to the south of Fan Mountain; today it came up over Bee Hive peak just north of Fan Mountain. Wow!

In short, shaking out the cobwebs of winter’s sleep, the world around us, like the sun, is on the move.

The trumpeter swans have signaled their return with trumpets blaring; the Canadian geese are honking (their love of Jesus, I presume); the crows and/or ravens are paired up and dancing with unabashed joy in the skies above; and the ground squirrels are skipping their way across the snowy fields in search of food and who knows what else.

The world is on the move. It is as if God has fired off a starter’s pistol that each soul can hear. Like Abram, millennia ago, we hear God say, “Go,” and like the psalmist we break out in song – the song of cattle calving, ranchers repairing their fences, store keepers stocking up on supplies for the seasonal influx of fisher folk, hikers, campers, and sojourners.

God said “Go” to Abram but God did not just say, “Go.” God added one more thing to his command: “I will bless you so that you will be a blessing.”

I wonder what life in the valley would look like if we were to take seriously God’s call to go AND to bless.

I realize that scooping up deer drops isn’t the most romantic, exciting thing one can do, but I also know the yard looks a lot better for the effort, and one is now free to roam about the lawn without fear of tracking certain treasures into the house. That may not sound like much of a blessing, and yet to one’s spousal unit it surely is and was!

I wonder if the Land of Promise isn’t less about land and more about one’s attitude towards the world in which we dwell, and the people around whom we live. God told Abram to go, and the story continues, “So Abram went …” He didn’t just think about it or talk about it; he just went and did it.

That’s what I’m going to do. I am going to do what needs to be done, enjoy it (even if it kills me), and I’m going to keep an eye out for the deer in this, our valley.