When I was a child there was an enormous cedar in the park across the street from our home.  I had to move the park's trash barrel to the side of the tree, climb upon it, balance on its edge and stretch my arms as high as they could reach, just to grab the lowest branch.  After the first strenuous effort though, the branches grew closer together and I could climb high relatively quickly.  I would often yell up the street to our home and say "look how high I am, Mom!".  I didn't understand until I became a mother myself, why a sick look would cross Mom's face before she'd say, shielding her eyes, "Uh, huh.  Please don't tell me.  I don't want to look!  Be careful!  You're way too high." 

In that towering expanse there was one branch with a perfect crook in it, just right for a little girl to sit comfortably and make-believe other worlds and magical places for sometimes hours on end.  On the days that I enjoyed the enchantment of that tree I'd return home covered in sap, smelling of dirt and evergreen.  You see, the evidence of how I'd spent my time was all over me.

I want to be the kind of woman who evidences in her life and actions the fact that she meditates upon and abides in the word of the Lord.  Oh that my life will have the sweet aroma of Christ lingering about me so that there will be no question of how I spent my day!