Danger in the Meadow

I have no pictures for you today, as the scenes I am about to describe exist only in my mind--and the minds of two friends who were with me when I saw them.

One Sabbath* afternoon in the spring, we loaded the car with our selves and our picnic, heading for the hills. We needed a quiet get-away to nature and the chance to breathe in the beauty of God's creation. The time was just about right for wild flowers of some kind or other to be in bloom.

"Shall we turn here?" I would ask. "No, let's keep going."

The road of choice presented itself at last, and we followed it, turning aside only when a suitable dirt road called from our right.

Father, please reveal to us a precious Sabbath blessing today, I prayed as we walked along.

Just then, a creek's babbling voice made itself heard off in the distance. Of course we could not ignore its beckoning, and off we went to find it in all its charm.

Thank You, I said.

From there we found some flowers, and another brook which met the first farther down the line. We traipsed along, mindful of all the beauties in their detail, and came to some logs where we sat, breathless, to take in the view. Seeing a meadow full of purple flowers in the distance, we thought to find it with our feet and eat our supper there.

Upon arriving in the meadow, we saw that its pleasantries far surpassed what we had imagined it to be. Only one thing marred our delight: a near-by growling noise.

We made haste back to the car, where we ate our supper and eyed a deer who was eying us.

I recall the day as one of supreme Sabbath blessings. Beauties beheld and heard seemed marred by our fear of danger, until we realized that the danger evaded only deepened our longing for the perfect world to come.
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*As a Seventh-day Adventist, I observe the Sabbath from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday.