Took Penelope for her morning walk and watched an acrobatic routine with the squirrels jumping from the power lines to the bamboo forest. Looked like they were practicing to join the Flying Wallendas. They always jump off the bamboo right before they’re slapped to the ground. Later I took oldest sister-in-law to the grocery store because her car is in the shop. On the way to the farm to pick her up, I saw a beautiful hay field of yellow and purple wildflowers. I took a photo from the car window but it just didn’t capture the field’s beauty. I’ve always marveled at the color palette of the natural world. Never cases to amaze me, the wondrous hues of wildflowers. Vet brother is working on a small piece of earth to plant some wildflowers at his home. Looking forward to their blooms.

I bought the squirrels a bag of peanuts and put them in the top of an old bird bath on the ground near the old oak tree trunk. When I went out to watch the sun set I could tell they hadn’t eaten any. I bet one of the night critters will eat them all. I filled up all the bird feeders and went back to the porch to wait for the sunset.

I’m sitting in the double rocking chair on the porch watching the sunset play out in the brush strokes of Mother Nature’s watercolors. Mother Nature painted a small pale orange wildfire on the horizon at sunset and the watercolors of her flames reached the clouds and colored them in beautiful shades of oranges, aquas, blues, grays, and purples. The glorious wildfire clouds are moving quickly across the horizon, purple ones with pink bellies and pink ones outlined in white. As the fire dims the clouds move swiftly away taking their purple rain to Georgia.

I love this time of day. It’s quiet and it’s peaceful and the neighborhood is getting sleepy as twilight rolls down the street cooling off the porches, All the birds have gone to roost except the faithful crimson cardinals that flock to the feeders as sunset begins. I hear a train whistle, breaking the silence of twilight, its lonely horn sounds echoing down the track. As it gets closer I hear the clickety-clack of the metal wheels hugging the steel tracks.

I’ve lived my whole life by the train tracks, so used to hearing them sometimes I forget to listen to their wails and rumbling sounds. Never thought about the train and its tracks representing our journey of faith till tonight. The train is symbolic of our spiritual journey in life and the passage of time. As we roll along the tracks of our lives, the train of our faith has a specific destination, chugging along and staying on course lead by the metal rails of God’s guidance. As we grow and change, we have to be willing to overcome obstacles that block our path of faith. We have to pray when the tracks are full of stumbling blocks and call on God for help getting back on track.

We have to trust in God and roll down the rails straight to him, letting him choose our journey’s path. Life is a train ride. God is our engineer and heaven is our destination. God calls us to board his train and helps us reach our heavenly destination. We have to stay on the tracks of our faith, trusting in God to lay the rails to guide us on our journey to heaven.

“When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.” — Corrie Ten Boom