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A Place in the Sun (Vol. 5, No. 1) The spring wind stung my face. Being a native West Texan, I hardly blinked as the ever-present sand formed a crust in the corner of my eye.I edged past our garage door and around the side of the house, ducking behind a big bush. Imaginary enemy soldiers passed my location. I sat quietly, hardly breathing. When the time was right, I launched myself from my secure position, scaled the back yard fence and slid down the other side. Splinters lodged just below the skin on my wrists – just deep enough to itch, but no blood. As stealthy as I was, Lucy, our sort of a terrier-something-mixed breed, was fully aware of my arrival. She greeted me with those licks that probably had less to do with her adoration for me than with the salty taste of a sweaty ten-year-old boy. I grabbed her in a headlock and silently planned my next move in this dangerous place. I was on a mission. Inspired by too many television shows, I was a Green Beret and a secret agent spun into diminutive form. I was on my way to rescue someone or disarm a bomb set in place by a mad scientist. As I sprinted across the yard toward the swingset, I lost touch with that mission. Although it was technically spring and a sunny day, the constant breath of steady winds from the west at a little over 20 miles per hour took its toll. I was cold and without my jacket. And because I had the attention span of a ten-year-old, I didn’t think twice about diverting. I knew where I was headed. The winds blow often where I came from. Places of shelter were well-remembered. Some kids would head inside at moments like this. But I turned toward a small strip of concrete next to the red brick wall at the back of our house. From experience, I knew that the wind would be reduced to almost nothing there. More importantly, I knew that the sun would be baking there. It was the perfect place to be. From that spot, I often watched the winds push leaves, branches, and the occasional tumbleweed about. During dust storms, you could hear the sand colliding on various surfaces – making different sounds against the roof of the house, the glass windows above me, and even the hollow metal of the overturned wheelbarrow nearby. Lucy followed much more slowly. Her nose close to the ground, painstakingly tracking me even though I was in plain sight, I could see the frost from her breath. Yet, from my place in the sun, I observed all of this while wondrously warm and protected. Oft-times I stayed here until my mother called from the back door or the sun disappeared beyond the fence. Something soothing about having a place in the sun. I’ve had many. I think of early mornings on mountain tops and at lakeside. Nestled down among the pitcher plants in that little open space near Jack’s Creek campground or among the rocks as waves from the fisherman’s wake splash softly just below my feet. Remarkably, all of my places in the sun were extremely close to places that would have been more comfortable – more protected. Obviously, the house afforded me more shelter than that bit of cement in the back yard. My tent and my still-toasty sleeping bag were but a few yards from me on that mountainside. The lake cabin promised much more in the way of food and fellowship than that bare rock adorned with the smell of fish and lake water. But there’s something that frees our spirits when we sit in our place in the sun. Something about being amidst the strivings of the elements. Something about feeling the calm of such a place while winds blow about us and discomfort is only inches away. It’s not unlike feeling the presence of God in our everyday lives. I suppose we might never venture out of our secure places. Never feel the bite of the winds of life or the grit of the sand that erodes our energies and sometimes our very character. And if we never emerged from safety and comfort, we would never feel that incredible glow from finding and glorying in our place in the sun. That place where God, and God alone, ministers to us. That lovely place where He creates order out of disorder. Venture out. And when the winds swirl around you, sit thankfully in that quiet place.
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