The sun is higher in the sky now. The grass is glistening like a crystal blanket covered by the dew brought to sustain it. The birds sing their cheerful melodies. In harmony with one another, they dance across the sky to their own serenade.
The squirrels are always busy. They find their joy in the simplicity of the scurry. They race back and forth awaiting the prize of a morsel nestled somewhere in the dirt like a long sought after treasure…the scurrying pirates of the yard. ARRGH!
The trees barely move at the gentle prodding of the wind.
The wind is apparently exhausted after the storms of the past few days and is taking the morning off. It has carried away with it all of the clouds, leaving the sky a pale shade of vibrant blue with no obstructions left to block its exhibition.
The morning is alive all around me as I sit at my window with my coffee. All I can do is smile.
I always thought of peace in the still, the calm of the water as it sits like glass; so pure you feel like it could hold you. Maybe there’s peace there. But as I sit here listening to the babbling of the brook, the trickling as the water flows gently over rock, white tops bouncing playfully as creek meets stream, I see a peace I’ve never known.
Maybe that’s just another way your peace passes our understanding. We expect peace in the still when noise is dimmed to silence, when movement fades to freeze. Yet greater peace is found in the chaos. It’s in the way the water goes whichever way you send it, the way the speed increases as the path narrows. Yet the whole time it’s guided by the boundaries you’ve set in place. The banks were built to hold it, the boulder sent to divert it, the tree limb sprouting aimlessly out of rock like a mystic, misplaced giant.
There’s a comfort there in the noise, the splash, the motion. There’s an alcove ahead where the water rests, if only for a minute. It pools with the other drops around it lazily descending toward the next narrow place where it will flow further down the mountain. There’s a safety in knowing that you guide the mountain. You hold the stream. You bring the melody I sing to the sway of the trees you created. You’ve given us this moment. You’re romancing me.
As I leave this place and find myself back in the clamor and commotion of life, let this moment sustain me. Let me remember that you are holding me.
Without the noise, there’d be no music. Without the movement, we’d be stagnant. Without the narrow, we’d never be sharpened and grow.
You are my peace.
She wore white. Her simple white sundress flowed almost poetically in the wind as she walked along the shore. It seemed fitting to wear the same color she’d worn on this day so long ago. A large, floppy hat sat atop her head attempting to stop the wind and UV rays from assaulting her long, stringy, gray locks and still freckled shoulders. She felt as if she were in a dream.
Despite all the changes 50 years had brought, this place was still the same. The years and waves had slowly changed the shape and contour of the shoreline but she could still feel him, his strong arms wrapped around her, the comfort of his chest as she lay her head against him when she’d truly relaxed for the first time in years. The way he softly kissed her neck and breathed her in deeply. She missed him but she was so thankful.
Soon she’d be with him singing praises beside him on the other side. For now, she would celebrate her 50th anniversary. She sat down and began to write
I can’t say I don’t remember the days before you. Their memory makes yours even sweeter. To think that I was once broken, shattered and almost useless. To think that I almost gave up. Then there was you…A hero sent straight from the ultimate hero. You turned my sad songs to rubbish. You turned my weeping to nonsense. You made me believe again. You woke me from slumber and numb to life and deep emotion. Though it seems cliche, you rescued me. I never knew love before you. I couldn’t even fathom the deepest of loves from heaven itself until there was you. Suddenly, life was alive. Suddenly, color had substance. Words lost their meaning because none of them could express what I meant to say or the depth of my emotion. In the place of gray you brought more joy than I could have ever dreamed. I am so grateful for the many glorious years we shared. I will always love you!
With that, she closed her eyes and drank in the warmth upon her face. She breathed deep and knew she’d truly lived because she’d truly loved. She prayed a simple prayer of thankfulness. This was a glorious day.
In the cushioned seat of the local church rests untold, often abandoned potential. There is a wealth of songs unsung, plays unwritten, sermons untaught. We sit idly by awaiting permission to move or for that illusive “door to open” with a myriad of excuses; “I’m seeking direction” or “I’m not sure what God’s will for my life is”. I can tell you. God’s will is for you to be who He created you to be. Allow what He placed inside of you to shine. Let His life live through you. Create, thrive, sing, build, clean, dance, add, answer phones, drive. Do whatever it is that you do for Him and unto Him. Allow Him to occupy and move in every part of who you are. Most of all, don’t be afraid! He wouldn’t have placed something in you if He didn’t intend for you to use it. Don’t hold back.
1 Corinthians 7:20 “Let each one remain in the same calling in which he was called.”
Colossians 3:23 “And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men”
On it goes, life. The procession of the here and now. The often rote existense of waking, eating, working, moments of laughter, hugs, love, friendship, rest, lather, rinse, repeat. Like brown lines traced in stone we walk on.
Then comes the divine. Blueish bursts of something more to interupt the cortege, motion subtly shifting the monotony to flux. The fierce passion of the living soul and spirit to bring meaning and purpose…to alter the course of sameness and banal to a place of destiny.
Fight against the ordinary dear traveler. Find your adventure in the heart of God and RUN.