What We’re Missing

Mornings are sacred to me. Being Winter in Texas means the day breaks on the front of the house. My bedroom is on the side, but I love watching it become light outside from my bed.

waterway (191x340)

This photo is of a driveway. I always feel a burst of excitement that is childlike when driving over it. The sound of the tires rolling through the overflow of water awakens my inner child.

I am sure many people drive through this each day, but I wonder what they see. Do they just see a flooded road, or do they take time to see the natural beauty of it. Do they notice?

When I moved to this little farmhouse, the first thing I noticed was traffic. I had been living on 40 acres before, so I could hear the traffic, but couldn’t see it. This house is on a main road, and a car drives by every few seconds. Will I ever get used to it?

It’s been nine months living here and I still notice the traffic. I believe God played a little game with me a few moments ago. For many minutes it was perfectly quiet. It was so quiet, I actually stepped outside just to see for myself. There were no cars riding by, and it had been that way for a while. I noticed.

Barbara is a writer, Entrepreneur and Mom to her 16-year-old daughter. She loves dipping cookies in her coffee in the morning and has a pretty healthy obsession for chocolate. When she started this Blog in 2014 Letitgocoach was what stuck. She enjoys helping people Let Go of what is holding them back from having a beautiful life. Her life today is an example of Letting Go and Letting God. You may connect with her via email. Letitgocoach@gmail.com

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s