Taken

“Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God took him.” – Genesis 5:24

The day had not gone well, in ways small and big, and my beloved – who usually braves the waves of life on an even keel and with cheerful disposition – had had about enough.

Her long fuse appreciably shortened, and her face deprived of its usual smile, she wasn’t especially inclined to accompany the dog on a walk beneath the gathering clouds of evening. But Archie, too, was at the end of his leash, after most of 12 hours cooped up in the house. All the makings for a collision were in place.

Exercise being the better part of valor, we set out into the rising breeze.

Things didn’t start well. The boy on the moped roared up out of nowhere, catching Archie off-guard and leaving him riled and in no mood for the little white poodle who suddenly trotted into view, half a block ahead. He commenced commentary, which produced some verbal pushback from my wife, some pulling and counter-pulling on the leash, and the showdown ensued.

They were both muttering under their breath as we rounded the first corner, a moment later. The house there, it turned out, was still for sale. My wife brightened at that. As we walked, she shared some creative ideas she’d been nursing for how to bring that domicile within financial reach of a friend of hers, in need of a better home.

I had no idea my wife’s thinking ran along such lines. For a few moments, I enjoyed that sweet pleasure a long-married spouse feels upon finding there are as-yet-undiscovered dimensions to this one he knows and loves so well.

Nose busy, eyes alert, the dog seemed to be enjoying similar sensibilities … treading familiar ground, but delighting in whiffs and glimpses of unsuspected activity. Archie and I, we like our surprises. He scurried happily along, and I kept up as best I could.

Coming up the next street, I caught a glimpse between houses of some spectacular crimsons caressing the clouds down south. I urged my wife to look that way.

Unfortunately, a gigantic tree plugged the next break between houses; a two-story house obscured the break after that. And so it went – house after house, break after break, something looming to keep her from seeing what I wanted her to see.

It became a kind of game, like spotting the rabbits that crouched behind bushes or stretched flat to fade into the grass of the lawns ahead of us. The game loosened us up, and the conversation that had been constricted by the frustrations of the day soon began flowing freely again. We admired flowers, laughed at Archie’s prim gait, revisited the ending of a show we’d watched the night before.

Round another corner. The shadows lengthened, deepened. A wider vista opened, and now the sky could be seen in some of its panoramic glory: yellows and oranges, purples and reds, billows and curves on towering heights of cloud. Glowing portals between the cumuli, beckoning us toward heaven.

Another moped sped by, its engine rending the breeze. Archie growled but let it go. Conversation drifted off, as we watched the sun slide out of sight, all the colors fading gently into a dim, gauzy gray.

Turning our last corner, we met an unexpected sight: a friendly neighbor lady we thought had moved out of the neighborhood. Until recently, she had lived a few doors down from us, and across a year of nightly rambles, our relationship had grown in the usual neighborly way: polite nods and smiles gradually evolving into spoken greetings, then cheerful comments on the dog or the weather … and finally into brief stops to chat and shade in a few details of personality and perspective.

By the time the “For Sale” sign went up a few weeks ago, we were genuinely sorry to see her go. Now, we learned that she’d gone no farther than the somewhat roomier house across the street.

She’d commissioned a lot of creative renovations, and was eager to show them off. She invited us in to see them; my wife lit up at the prospect. I volunteered to steer the panting Archie across the way to home and hearth and water bowl.

A little while later, my beloved breezed in, smiling and chatting happily about what the lady had done with her house, about what we might do with ours … about almost everything but the woes of this mostly misbegotten day. I gazed, marveling, on the dancing eyes and joyful countenance of my favorite face in the world.

So many people I know love hiking … making trips across town and countryside to stretch their legs amid nature’s grandeur and sprawling scenery. It sounds wonderful.

All we could manage was a reluctant investment of 25 minutes, treading the broken, littered, graffitied sidewalks of suburbia. We saw an empty house, part of a sunset, and a neighbor waving from her well-used driveway. For a pent-up pup and two tired souls, it was just enough.

We took a walk … and God, in His gentle mercy, took us out of our selves for a while.

He always makes the most of what He we give Him to work with.