I’ve been trying to be more intentional about pause,
about figuring out what it means to rest…and then doing it.
(Or, in some cases, NOT doing whatever it is that isn’t restful.)
I’m recognizing how easy it is to neglect this kind of self-care, soul care. I want to be mindful every single day of the wonder of “the holy present,” but it's an unending challenge.
Ironically, this goal is particularly slippery for me to catch hold of on Sundays. Our household is deeply, (joyfully!) involved in the life/work of a faith community, and keeping track of “the holy present” can get lost in the shuffle of teaching, leading worship, preaching, connecting. Don’t misunderstand – it’s good stuff; it just gets a little crazy. And finding the way to pause and refresh isn't easy. Sometimes a nap just doesn't do it.
So, this week, we took to rambling.
My online Merriam Webster’s dictionary says a ramble is “a leisurely excursion for pleasure; especially: an aimless walk.”
Maybe our journey wasn’t truly a ramble, because we were in search of something. We just didn’t know quite what. But I think we found it.
But apparently the bird migration superhighway shuts down in the late afternoon, as temperatures drop and thermals cease so we watched but spotted only one broadwing who had apparently also taken a longer nap than he intended!
We thought we'd watch the sunset here, but the due west view was obscured by trees. And so, our destination of disappointment was the starting point for our next adventure. (I want to remember this life lesson...)
Seating options were myriad; the stadium was empty.
But you had to bring your own seat cushion.
And refreshments. Mmm. Sweet and salty.
Even without a sunset, the view was vast and varied. We were peering into the 'Shire as I've always imagined it, mellow and soft in the angled rays of deepening day. (Only our 'Shire was behind us...)
And I've run out of adjectives.....let the sunset speak.
"The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork." (Psalm 19:1)
God did this.
God is like this:
no two sunsets exactly the same,
and happening every minute around the globe.
From a certain perspective,
sunset is continuous.
The beauty.The peace.
The mystical tranquility.
The sun dips below the last cloud bank, the last mountain range. It's gone.
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
(from Bilbo's Walking Song in ch. 19 of The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien)
the heavens are
telling the glory of God.