Friday, November 14, 2014
Five-minute Friday: Still
In that part of day in this season of fall, when it seems the earth is sprinting toward the shadows, when daylight is like sand slipping through cracks between fingers and breeze rustles through leaves like crackling wind chimes, I heard my soul's hunger and bundled for the cold.
Yes, my soul took me for a walk.
And the chill of the air embraced me, a gentle shake to the shoulders, pure joy inhaled deep into my lungs. For the first time in who knows how long I felt fully alive.
At first, I quickened my pace to reach the lake before the blanket of darkness spread across the sky, my sights set on light, those last vestiges of color and reflection across the water. I arrived in time to catch it, rewarded by percussive waves that beckoned me to sit awhile. So I sat, wrapped in layers and double hoods around my face, waiting as the darkness descended.
And here I remembered, darkness has its own secrets. Treasures impeded by light.
The stars. The moon. The glory of all that is outside, or here in the midst of, these perimeters of artificial light. The mysterious, great beyond.
How we flood the wild, the real with the artificial, because we're afraid of what we cannot see, cannot tame. So we chase the light, keep it blazing continuously at great cost, but there is beauty to be found cocooned here in the dark.
Such it is with life.
As I sat, I saw out of the corner of my eye a figure darker than the darkening sky, flying past in near stillness. A figure I had only ever seen in the daylight.
A great blue heron, perched stately on a wooden post in the lake. I moved to get as near him as I could, kneeling on a weathered dock, and wished to kiss the air.
He's been here, all along, even in the dark, I marveled. And then, he lifted his great wings and disappeared on the wind. Even though I could not possess him, could not see him in living color, he was there, gloriously alive. And somehow, simply knowing that in this moment, was enough for me.
Such it is with God.
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Joining the Five-minute Friday community over at Kate's place to the prompt of "Still."
Surrender and darkness have been themes of reflection for me lately. If you'd like, I invite you to read more: here and here.