On a hilltop in Pennsylvania,
that is where I spent my first 18 years of life surrounded by aunts, uncles,
grandparents, and even great grandparents.
The only sounds to be heard outside were those of family and the farm that went with it.
My Grandpop whistling for his dog, and Nana calling her farmer home
were the most memorable sounds.
Often on sunshiny days I would wander over to the farm or my Nana.
But,
the trek home on the dirt path between cornfields was my delight.
With a blue sky above and the wind at my back, the clouds cast a
shadow on my path.
It was the shadows I raced across the fields the whole way home.
This is the childhood memory of which I am most fond.
.....
I caught a glimpse of the sky today, clouds parallel to the lake.
Their beauty called to me, inviting me to look on.
As I pedaled my bike, I did just that,
admiring ever new nooks and crannies of the clouds.
Their bellies were worn flat from the winds and above, oh, they
bubbled over with curves,
big and puffy.
I accepted the invitation and sat to admire the grandeur.
As the sun dipped lower, the light caught
the clouds on the west side,
highlighting the Artist of it all.
He draws me...
He's been drawing me to Him these last weeks.
A pondering gave way to truth, which birthed brokenness.
It was there I found safety in a new dimension with an enveloping sweetness.
There, I no longer hid from myself, or others.
All was laid bare, the rights, wrongs, hurts, justifications, and longings.
As calm as still water,
clear as glass...
peace.
It captivates in the broken space,
though my mind, a tumultuous sea, raged on.
Yet when I courageously remain, it is the peace that overcomes.
Peace of all things,
it is the flint to my fight.
Fight that had been lost in the wrong battle,
keeping at bay the Author of my story rather than the lies in my head.
Now ignited, I pray this fight continues to battle deceit
in order to maintain wide open spaces of truth that invade distances
beyond this soul.
His work is as constant as the wind.
Always has been, and will be,
always.
As much when I was a cloud chasing little girl as now.
I once again notice the wind and want to experience it's freedom,
to join in with my Maker.
I feel the wind in my being as He whispers to me,
gently turning my gaze to meet his.
I feel Him bolstering me to ride the currents of His work.
He softens my thoughts of judgement and they
stumble,
tumble,
and topple over,
into truths.
To relax in this healing,
to be carried on His winds,
to harness His power and freely ride where He desires me to be,
to carry His glory with me always,
those billowing curvatures, catching His light,
displaying the majesty of His workmanship,
that, yes, just that is my desire.
No comments:
Post a Comment