The Quest

Fiery Orange Sunset

The person I talk to the most is myself. Amazing the myriad of thoughts that flow through my conscience in the span of a day. If I had to categorize or place a theme on the majority of my thoughts, I'd hang them under the sign called "Quest". Because that's what my life is about. Each day is a quest. I am an explorer, definitely in my mind I am. I'm not one for idleness unless I'm so disorganized that sitting and watching television seems to be the cure. (Which we all know doesn't solve a thing!)


My women heroes of the past are those brave ones who followed their husbands, father, brothers, in expanding the west. Wagon trains. Unpaved trails, dust, packing and unpacking each morning and evening. Plopping themselves down on a piece of land and then proceeding to make a structure that would keep them sheltered, cook the barest of meals, survive with miminalist protection from the wilds. Existing each day on what you could find, preserving it if you had the means, and then work a little extra on "civilizing" the environment. No wonder most didn't make it to 40. And they looked 50 by the time they were 30.  Did they have quest thoughts each day?

God says there is nothing new under the sun. I don't think He's talking about inventions, conveniences, devices, or our modern way of life. I believe He's talking about mankind's thoughts, intentions, basic drives, and instincts. Those pioneer women faced each day the same as I do, except they did it in a harsher environment most days. My thoughts are wondering about their thoughts. What was their self-talk? Were they only following or were they thoroughly enmeshed in the quest. Survivor mode mentality! I feel like a cry baby in comparison to these female heroes of the new world. And they did it in long dresses! I wonder if they ever thought about that. (I venture there may have been less wars if the men had to wear long dresses into battle. That's a picture!)

So, back to my musing, what were their thoughts? I venture they wrestled with their thoughts the same as I do. Each day is an adventure into choices. I can lay my questionable thoughts out before the Lord and He can say, "Yep, that thinking is not new. Work with me, girl, and trust Me. Think on these things...!" (Phil 4:8) I'm sure He said the same to the wild west women!

It's hard to change habits. And thought habits are particularly dicey. My quest lately in my thought patterns has been to be aware of my daily graces and gifts. To change habits, one has to be conscience of the old and replace it with the new. For me, filtering thoughts and replacing the non-productive ones has been a lot like my filing system: I keep chucking stuff in until the draw is full and then I HAVE to purge. My thoughts build and build with the stuffing and then my brain is overloaded. Something has to give. So I'm training my brain to learn new patterns of filtering and sifting. I'm gracing thoughts or I should say I'm try to remember to grace my thoughts. I love the little worship song that says, "Open my eyes, Lord...." That is the key to changing my thought habits.

My 1000 Gifts Journal is evidence of looking for Him each day. Looking for Him changes my thoughts. In the midst of the running rampant rabid thoughts that bite, chew, and devour, I whisper, Jesus help me to see You. And then I have to make the choice to look.

I looked at the evening sky last night. It was fiery orange with a huge smear of pinks and swirls of variegated shades and tints of mauve. The sunset took my breath. A smile was automatic. The whisper of, "thank you, Lord",  was spoken out loud. All thoughts left except those of gratitude. My long ago counterparts had to have glanced at the setting western skies and have their breath stolen at such sights. And I'm sure they whispered their thanks. Generations later, I stand in the midst of my daily quest, gazing at a remarkable sunset, and remember those women who have gone before: without a doubt we share/shared much of the same thoughts...nothing new under the sun.

I have to say, I'm grateful for not having the grumbling thoughts of wrestling through my day in a long dress with long sleeves in 90-100 degree days. Thank You Jesus!