Pause, Stop, Recess, Suspend, Breathe and Listen

 Mondays seem to be synonymous with busy; emails, phone calls and deadlines approach and I start to tackle my to-do list. In the midst of the hectic schedules, it can be so easy to forget to take a moment to appreciate the beauty in the moment.

So… I stopped to smell a rose. It only takes a moment to pause and smell this beautiful little bloom, breathing deeply to take in the sweet scent. Small lines of pink need to be appreciated in the midst of the swirl of yellow. Beauty of glossy leaves made me pause to admire their deep green color.

And… I listened to the rain, watching it land drop by drop on the branches of a small tree. Leaves danced with the landing of the drops; shimmering in the late afternoon light.  Small drops held by surface tension cling to the edges of leaves.

Busy moments are all well and good; I really don’t care to be bored. I simply work to remain the balance in the small moments to breathe in the scents, listen to the rain, and enjoy the pause. Giving myself that pause not only makes the day a bit more enjoyable, but lets me appreciate the beauty created around me.

Rain on a Metal Roof and Other Sounds

The rain has been pouring this evening. Plunk, plunk, plunk… as the rain lands on the metal tub sitting on the porch. It reminds me of the soothing sound of rain on a metal roof. 

Sitting on a front porch and listening to a summer rain plunk on a metal roof. The porch swing chains creak as they carry it back and forth slowly, one foot lightly keeping the momentum going as the other leg is tucked underneath me. I can practically smell the purple in the vetch on the hill. Frogs near the pond jump from logs, land with a splash and add their own songs to the rain. I feel the bulk of my book; there is the weight of the actual bound print and the heft of the words resting in my hands. The words pull me in slowly, sinking me into the moment and bringing the lyrics of my book alive. The sounds of the rain bring backs lovely memories and I think of how our senses can be such a gift. 

Ripples

The day started with a downpour. While hesitating to leave the dry space under the eaves to make a run for the car, I was also wishing for a porch swing where I could read and listen to the rain. Crossing a puddle later in the day when little drops were still falling, I had to pause to admire the ripples. One drop of water created a wave of movement that then echoed throughout the puddle. Two drops and the ripples start to touch each other. The raindrops keep coming and the patterns become beautifully complex. I had to pause because it reminded me of the ripples people leave in each other’s lives. We all leave ripples in lives we touch. Whether barely noticeable or momentously life altering, echoes of movement impact us all.

My mind is full tonight of those who have touched my life, with those in the last month especially standing out. It comes out in bits and pieces of circular waves, as images in my mind. A silver ax held behind me by a man in uniform, standing by a casket; how embraced by honor and protection I felt. Little white haired women walking with canes all told me that they hadn’t seen me since I was knee high; their greetings gave me grounding. Reaching behind for a sister’s hand, knowing it would be there; blessed by love in family. Meals, visitors, unexpected travelers, hugs, listeners, paperwork helpers and so many more offer compassion and have made these waves a bit more of a gentle swell to ride. I am still occasionally hit by the movement, knocked about for a moment and trying to regain my balance. Tears sting my eyes and I find myself again and again being ready this seasickness to end. But, the ripples today reminded me of how beautiful the movements of others have been, creating beautiful patterns across my life.  

Wash It Away

A sudden rain came down a few days ago, that for all its brevity could be called a gully washer.  I was inside, and though I paused to admire the actual sheeting of rain that blocked my view to see across the street, I did not really think much about the outside effects.  Later that day, I walked to my car to head home.  The rain had stopped and it was nicely cool and fresh outside.  I noticed that there were brown lines around cars, where the rain had washed cars and removed the layers of dirt.  Outlines now existed around cars, and in parking spots where cars were once parked.  My car shined quite nicely in the sun, looking clean and sparkly.  The remnants the rain left were not on my car, but in a car sized dirt outline

As I got in the car, and headed home, it struck me that the car could not wash itself.  There had to be an outside source to remove the dirt.  In much the same way, the sins that accumulate on, around, and in me are also something I cannot remove.  Jesus, in much the same way, performed an act that worked like that gully washer.  He shed his blood and died for my sins, in essence removing them by the sacrifice of love.  What left was a bright and shiny forgiveness of my sins and your sins in the person of me and other followers of Christ, and that human size dirt outline you see there on the ground, that is the sin that is no longer mine to pick-up. 

Why? That is one of my favorite questions.  I think it is important to understand why things happen or don’t happen certain ways.  Why would a perfect God do something to even bother with the messiness of people?  Love.  God loves us so much that He gave us his one and only Son.  We in turn, if we believe in him, we are given eternal life.  Because, the Son (Jesus) did not come to condemn the messy structure we call humanity, but to save us instead.  I accepted that Love.  I hope you do too.  

The Sounds of the Day

   It’s Good Friday and I have been thinking about the sounds that would have comprised this day in Jerusalem. It is obviously a day that focuses on Jesus, and the sacrifice He made for us. However, I wonder what the sounds were like that day.
   It’s been like living in a rain forest here, a cold damp wet rain forest, which creates lovely sounds on the roof as I settle in to sleep. The sounds of the birds outside, the dogs as they bark their hellos, the television, the wind in the pines… there are just so many sounds surrounding me today.
   I wonder what the sounds were on that day in Jerusalem. After Christ died, after his body was removed from the cross. The heckling sounds, the feet on the roads, and the sound of the hammer and nails have all faded. Now, it is the sounds of soldiers and the sigh of wood as it is relieved of its weight. The night sounds could have occurred. People would have returned to their homes, I wonder what that sound was. Doors opened and closed, and what were the conversations that occurred? Had the fever of the day been broken with the realization of the actions of the day and its consequences? Were voices lowered in fear or raised in irritation? Did children sense the tension and rev up their little motors to pitches normally only reached during full moons? Were there the sounds of sobs in the streets or laughter?
  Today we remember. Today we think back and remember the actions, sights, and sounds of that day.

Small Towns Small Things

America is made up of small towns, lots and lots of small towns, with a few large towns tossed in for variety. Each small town has some commonalities, but they are all unique as well. Each has its own flavor and personality. There is an incredible cook, an artist, a story teller, playgrounds, schools, churches, and flowers. But, each one is a little different and each is special.

Life is also made up of many small things with a few big things tossed in. Remember that saying a few years ago which became so popular? Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff – and its All Small Stuff. Well, they got it somewhat right anyway. It isn’t all small stuff, and some small stuff shouldn’t be sweated and worried over. There are some great big things thrown in there as well. The majority of my days go by with small stuff, little things, minute gestures, seemingly trivial and insignificant decisions and conversations. Then, you look back over years of the small stuff with a few big moments thrown in and realize, it was all important!
I watched the sky clear over the Mississippi River last night. The rain came and then went, the clouds parted and then gathered again, hanging lower and greyer. Sparrows came and watched from the eaves of the shelter, hoping that there was food to be shared. A light rain pattered onto the pond and was caught in the light. Ducks splashed in puddles and their muffled quacks rang just above tapping of the water rain onto the water pond surface. Small moments, but important - enjoy the small stuff, it’s important.

Faithful

Ever been for a long walk and it starts to rain? The rain gets harder and heavier, you are soon to be drenched. Wet, cold, and growing discouraged as you are growing wetter and walking quicker. Walking faster, growing wetter, you keep walking in hopes that your destination will somehow be approaching you at a faster rate and you can meet somewhere in the middle. Discouragement and frustration grows until you are starting to produce wetness of your own, tears and sweat to add to the rain.

Now, change the picture slightly. Instead of you walking alone, you are now walking with someone else. Your destination is not any closer, it is still raining. However, your friend comes along side with an umbrella, raincoat, and galoshes. Stopping to put on the raincoat and galoshes, opening up the umbrella, your friend slips her arm around you and starts walking with you.
Walking with you, it is so much easier to face the rain. We have a friend available to us who will do just this. He will come along side, provide a wonderful protection against the rain, and journey with you. He is faithful.