Typically what you’ll find here is recipes. Or food talk of some persuasion. Ever so often though, something pops into my head and nags at me until I spill it out on the page- thus allowing my brain to slip back into food/recipe mode where it’s most comfortable and probably most appreciated. Especially around dinnertime.

Let’s just agree that I’m veering a little bit out of my food lane today- OK?

Okay.

Do you ever think about the difference between looking at something and watching something?

I’m looking at my little dog right now- he’s on his back in front of the fireplace with his short Corgi legs in the air. He’s slightly overweight and terribly dirty- the curse of stubby-legged creatures everywhere on rainy, muddy days at the farm. Looking is usually quick and unplanned and requires little forethought or anticipation.

There he is. Squatty and dirty. Simple.

Watching on the other hand implies some intention on my part. I’m expecting to see something, waiting for it. Watching is looking with an end goal in mind. Let’s take a sunset for example. I watch for a sunset because I’m sure it’s going to happen. It always does. I can count on it.

In much the same way, birdwatchers prepare to watch for birds by going to the right place at the right time of the day and year with the necessary equipment to see the birds that are known to frequent an area. They anticipate that sightings will happen because they have proof of one type or another that those species have been spotted there before. They’ve researched and planned and go in anticipation.

Maybe I’m oversimplifying, but I believe looking at something and watching for something are terribly different.

Are you hoping for miracles? I sure am. But am I watching for them? Do I believe for certain that they’re possible? Do I believe that God is good and able to provide a miracle for me or you? Do I know from reading God’s word and hearing stories from family and friends that miracles happen?

Yes. Yes I do.

I suppose what I’m getting to is this- we need to pull out our lawn chairs (I’m imagining the old kind with the frayed and broken straps), put on our best shades, grab a drink and anticipate that miracles are coming. Prepare ourselves for one, not just glance about hoping that we might run into one someday. Maybe even hold our breath a bit and have our cameras ready.

Expect that a miracle is coming our way.

And who knows, I bet it might just turn out to be amazingly and abundantly above and beyond what we could hope for or imagine to see.