Caught in the moment...

Worshiping...

I had a Friday afternoon free.  It has been a particularly challenging time in my world and I needed a little disruption for a few hours.  Since I live in a metropolitan area, architecture, industry and travel themes abound in my imagery.  However today, I was longing for something unscripted by human hands.  I started out driving East from my house and I wandered through back roads and found nothing that really caught my attention.  Finally, exasperated, I headed back toward home, my camera still in the bag.  I was headed West on 135^th Street back toward Olathe just past North Moonlight Road (somewhat ironic as you will see later). I stumbled on a parking lot labeled
“Prairie Center Parking.”  I pulled in the small gravel lot and took my camera bag and headed out. 

 

There is one worn mowed path that leads to the Prairie Center acreage.  I headed down the path and soon found myself out of eye-shot of my truck.  The Center is far enough away from the highway that the usual low humming hiss of traffic is not heard.  An occasional car drove down 135^th street reminding me that I was still in the city, but other than that, I was alone on a walk in the prairie.  It was one of those rare, warm January days.  The air temp was around 50 degrees and there was a slight south wind.   I was transported from the suburbs of the city to the ancient prairies of Kansas.  For a city boy this is the best way to explore the country; within a half mile of your car.

As I rounded the corner of the path I started walking down a hill and looked up to see a rare daytime waning gibbous moon.  The orb was small and bright in the sky and nestled between the outstretched limbs of a barren winter tree.  The sight caught me; it was as if the branches of the tree were reaching out to grasp the distant moon.  I snapped a few shots, and sat in contemplation for a while.  It was a worshipful moment.  I used to attend a church where people would raise their hands and arms frequently during songs, and I have been to concerts where the audience will raise their hands in jubilation as the band plays a favorite song.  The tree in front of me was in the midst of worshipfully reaching to the heavens, the breeze and the dormant brougham grass provided a gentle song, and I, sat at the back of the room and watched.  Then a giddy feeling came over me, I wanted to join the tree, to outstretch my hands in worshipful prayer and reach toward the abode of the Creator.  Sheepishly I looked around; no one in sight.  I lifted my arms and joined the celebration. 

I stayed in worship for a while soaking in the music and the grandeur, and then, my arms slowly dropped, I gazed once more at the ancient worshipers before me, and I smiled.  I was looking for a few pictures and found a concert instead.