Pedro invited two students over for dinner, and after dessert, I slipped away to join the Five-minute Friday Twitter party. The boys have been guests at our house before, and they know the tradition—after eating comes the loud music. Toby Mac’s voice pulsates through the house—right on cue with Kate Motaung revealing the prompt for this week: DOOR.
I try to think, but the lyrics cancel out anything I try to type, and I notice that my words have mixed with song lyrics on the computer screen. I feel like saying something, but I don’t. I’ve learned the hard way to control my impulses to blurt out what’s on my mind.
Instead, I grab my laptop and head out the door where I move a lawn chair in front of the garage and settle down to write.
Five hummingbirds whiz by to my left, distracting me just as badly as the lyrics did just minutes ago. Fingers of the last light brush the treetops across from me, and the horizon turns all purply-pink around the sun’s setting glow. Bullock’s Orioles land on the hummingbird feeder and the sparrows and house finches settle down for the night while a rooster crows off in the distance.
The door hasn’t provided a solution for me at all. But it has given me a different perspective. The noises outside form a cacophony as loud as the one inside. Zoom! A hummer buzzes overhead, curious about my pink shirt and two orioles chatter and fly off together.
As the sunset colors deepen, I run inside to grab my camera (sometimes, an iPhone just doesn’t do a sunset justice) and stand in the middle of the street to frame up the best shot.
Five minutes have come and gone, and I realize, once again, how God works in mysterious ways. The hurried afternoon of trying to fit everything in, plus some extra, has ended in a brilliant panorama of color and sound that only a faithful God could imagine. I feel blessed because I exercised self-control and knew when to head out the door for a new perspective.