Life in the Valley
Last night my little Bible study group looked at the story of Naomi’s return to her homeland after the death of her husband and sons. Naomi’s daughter-in-law, Ruth decides to go with her, and together they travel to Bethlehem.
When Naomi arrives she asks the women of the town to call her Mara, which means bitter, because she feels angry, alone, and desperate. It is as though God has abandoned her.
The story is wonderful so perhaps you would like to read it sometime.
However, after learning about Naomi’s desire to change to a name that expressed how she felt at the time, I was curious about the meaning of my name.
I found that it means dweller in the valley.
I picture a scene like the one above and continue with many questions.
I get up the next morning and go on a walk, still wondering about my name and its meaning.
Would you join me on a hike into an unexpected little valley to see what I found there?
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After learning that my name means “dweller in the valley,” I head out to walk my usual early morning route, up the street from my house and into our neighborhood city park.
Alone today, I can notice my thoughts and surroundings attentively.
The sun is already up, bright and mid-horizon with a cloudless sky overhead and my mind is full of “dweller in the valley” thoughts.
What might it be like to dwell in a valley?
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Once inside the park, I pass through the open gate and start up the steep brick-covered street, breathing in the fresh morning air.
Heading down the big hill on the other side, I am surprised to notice that I am actually in a little valley! In the middle of this city park the forest floor slants upwards on the right and the left, peppered with many battered post-derecho trees.
At the bottom of this hill, the air changes, the wind dies, and I can see the sunrise above the trees. A stream bed nearby promises to bubble after a good rainfall but today it is still.
The crackling of twigs in the woods beside me catches my attention. I am surprised to find many deer standing and staring at me, their bright brown eyes as curious about me as I am about them. I notice the mixture of bucks and does, some older, some younger. Two of the youngsters are frolicking happily around the edges.
Standing quietly, I smile and enjoy this little congregation until they eventually decide I must be safe enough not to worry about and resume their morning foraging.
Suddenly, I hear a chirping noise, and, looking down at my feet, I find an anxious robin who seems to be trusting me with all his troubles. His nervous tweets erupt from his little body, as jumpy as his voice. I truly wish I could help him in some way.
Frustrated, I wonder, Where is Dr. Doolittle when I need him?
But alas, I am alone in deciphering the code! Soon he flies away to the nearest tree and I lose sight of him in the branches.
Turning around and walking back up the big hill, I discover that many white birds with black-tipped wings are flying over the park. I have never seen these birds before and the sun, glistening off their bodies and wings, makes them look like little pearls streaming through the blue sky off to some far-off destination.
I am mesmerized by their beauty!
Stopping, I chat briefly with Mary, who is walking her dog.
“Do you know anything about those white birds flying through?” I ask her.
Thoughtfully she answers, “I’ve heard that seagulls are migrating over Iowa. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
At the same time an eagle, his white head glowing in the sunlight, flies swiftly overhead, apparently bent on getting somewhere fast. (I hope he’s not after the gulls! But he doesn’t seem to notice them.)
My last little delight is to see a red-headed woodpecker poking his beak into the bark of a nearby tree, getting a start on his breakfast. Unbothered by my presence, he continues his pecking.
As this walk ends, I decide that if this is what life in the valley is like, perhaps I would like to dwell there permanently!
“Deane, Dweller in the Valley” has a nice ring!
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I share this story with you because I was incredibly delighted by everything I saw and heard that morning. God enabled me to “keep watch” so that I would not miss a wild thing He had for me to enjoy. I felt showered with delight.
I started this day wondering what life in the valley would be like and ended it with praise for the numerous gifts of the valley.
This morning walk is the same one I have taken five days a week for the past 29 years, most often with friends, always full of talk and laughter.
But on this day, alone with my thoughts, it felt like a whole new place with joy to be discovered.
In Psalm 115 David declares:
The highest heavens belong to the LORD, but the earth he has given to mankind.
Today I feel like the LORD gave me the earth as a gift and with it, unexpected treasures.
Mary Oliver would have been proud! :)
At the end of her poem, Such Singing in the Wild Branches, she describes hearing a thrush singing in the trees around her. Standing still, she listened full of gladness, feeling like she was in a magical place. She encourages those of us reading her poem to get out the door!
Listen, everyone has a chance.
Is it spring, is it morning?
Are there trees near you,
and does your own soul need comforting?
Quick, then - open the door and fly on your heavy feet;
the song may already be drifting away.
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May I encourage you to do the same?
Perhaps tomorrow, wake up early, dress warmly, tie up your walking shoes, and slip out the back door. Walk or drive to the nearest park and start to walk. Notice the invitation to open your eyes and ears to who/what is waking to the new day. Receive delight when she arrives and embrace the overflow of love that comes with each discovery. Find comfort for your soul as you realize God’s nearness within His extravagant gifting.
Sing. Lift your hands in praise. Stand in awe.
Return to your rest, my soul, for the Lord has been good to you.
Psalm 116:7