The wind blows hard, swaying the towering greens, and
awkwardly dancing the brown pine that’s in rigor mortis. Summer falls hot and
heavy. From behind air-conditioned windows, I contemplate projects, dropping
landscaping down to the bottom of the list. Paint trays stack in the laundry
room, awaiting creamy Canyon Cloud.
My daughter sits slack-jawed and glassy-eyed on the couch
near me, waiting for health to come. A summer cold and bouts with mono have
left several of us weak and slow-moving. Quiet seeps deep into our home, our bones, and
health returns with naps and time.
I have been quiet in groups the last few days -- months,
really. Rediscovering my place and role in a shifting time, learning to trust
and invest anew. Thoughtful quiet and listening is good for me. I talk to my
Abba, and gently step.
In the distance, traffic whirs subtly; cars pass in near
silence; and gauzy cotton fluffs sail past the window. The wind blows hard, silent
movement out the window.
“He who forms the
mountains,
Creates the wind,
And reveals his
thoughts to man…”
The wind blows hard. My Abba whispers and I listen quiet,
feeling like the pine in rigor mortis, awkward and stiff.
Joining with Ann, I thank the Mountain-Former, Wind-Creator,
High-Place-Treader-of-the-Earth for: wind, sun, summer’s heavy heat, growing
health, and quiet wind-blown revealed thoughts.
The random winners of last post’s books are: Allison and
Denise. Please email me with your mailing addresses so I can send out these
books! Enjoy.
What do you see out your window? What is God speaking quiet to you this week?
