A few years back, I joined my father-in-law in an all-day adventure in the southeast corner of Nebraska, near the Kansas border, where he was scouting a new deer hunting location for the coming season. As we drove along endless sections of cornfields, my photographer's eye evaluated everything quite differently from the lifelong hunter sitting next to me. Suddenly I saw an unusual structure in the landscape: the ruins of a stone house sitting alone on the prairie, buzzards roosting in its chimneys, a decaying wooden roof, and spacious openings that once held wooden doors and windows.
Its builder wisely chose the primary materials and location. The large square stones gave the old house stability and durability that would last for centuries. Its situation on a slight rise in the gently rolling prairie also provided an amazing vista in every direction. Three large chimneys attest to its readiness for decades of frigid Nebraska winters. And it would have been considered quite a large, stately home when it was built on the prairie nearly a hundred years ago. There's only one problem, as far as I can see: no one wants to live there anymore, except the buzzards.
Any spiritual analogies? Could be. I'll let you decide.
