Back in Texas

First day back in Texas, we made a trip to the deer pasture to get the hunting truck that broke down there.  The whole 50 mile trip, I relished the beauty (at least the beauty to my eyes) of dry West Texas. 

We drove through what was once the largest wind farm in the world. I don't know where it stands now, but you can probably drive in them for a hundred miles.

We stopped for a few pictures along the way.

Not everybody likes them,

but they don't spill oil or chemicals

and they don't smell like gas or H2S.

They are clean and somewhat blend into the sky.

This trip to the deer pasture,

I realized that I have had a serious long time

love affair

with pastures.

My earliest pasture memory

was driving down the trail of a road

to visit someone named

Aunt (pronounced ain't) Addie

who lived in a pasture.

I think there was a cistern in the front yard

and an outhouse in the back.

She may have even lived close to our deer pasture.

Everything about pastures fascinate me.

prickly pear,

mesquite trees,

 mistletoe,

critter trails,

and critter houses.

Even things people leave behind

can take on an art form.

David,

the man after God's heart,

the shepherd boy,

song writer,

warrior,

King,

said,

"He makes me to lie down in green pastures."

(Psalm 23:2)

Can I suggest my own version of this scripture?

(RRV - Renee's Revised Version)

He created me to

lie down,

sit in,

walk through,

photograph,

and enjoy

pastures

Now that I think about it,

we were created to live in a pasture

(well, maybe a garden).

The Hebrew defines pasture as

a word altogether poetic,

a seat, a dwelling of men or God.

where flocks lie down, remain, rest.

Psalm 83:12 translates the same word

as house of God.

Trips to the deer pastures,

and lakes

and mountains

and city parks

might be nothing more than our attempts

to go back the THE GARDEN.

These could be places where we try to connect with

our Creator.

My pasture love continued when my family

moved to a cotton farm with a pasture

for me to roam when I was 11.

It's funny, but I'm not sure I could send my 12 year old grandson

to roam alone in that same pasture.

We live on the the family farm

and when we get back home to Texas,

I tell my man -

"gotta go to the pasture".

Boots, hat, snake gun and four wheeler ready

and I'm off. 

There's really no purpose there - I just have to go.

I'm pretty sure I've never laid down in the pasture,

but if I did,

the view would take my breath away

because I just might find HIM there.

I hope all your trails lead to green pastures...

and your Creator.