...still the same

I have started walking through the parking lot of our complex every evening around sunset. On Monday, I was left breathless by the sight of birds as they swooped and danced on an incorrigible wind. The tops of the trees stood stark against the colored sky, and before I could check myself, I thought, “I hope my last evening here on earth is just like this one.” I hastily added, “…not that I want this to be my last night…” and continued my descent to the fishing pond. Emily rode quietly in her stroller and surveyed the world with calm interest.

The next night brought a wild storm that sent sheets of rain lashing across neighboring rooftops. The incorrigible wind from the night before had turned into a seemingly unrestrained beast. Objects were barely visible through the horizontal downpour, and the trees rocked violently in a sickening power struggle. A flash of fear coursed through me, but I stood rooted in awe. Such riotous display is sometimes beautiful beyond comprehension.

Tonight, I took a lazy stroll with my son. We meandered to the fountain where the ducks frolic and watched a fellow tenant reel in a bit of debris. We sat with our chins propped on the wooden walls of the gazebo as the line repeatedly floated out across the water. I remembered my makeshift fishing rod near the swinging bridge and the Heltons telling me to let my cares float down the river. I appreciate the notion now more than I did then, and as I watched the process, I realized that someone else’s relaxation was simultaneously acting as a diversion for me. I was surprised to note that even within the concrete clutches of a city, I could still feel completely at peace. Granted, I had a matchless sky, nice company, some flowers, and a few ducks to add harmony, but I think that we can create mini retreats for ourselves no matter what our surroundings. Actually, I think that these places of serenity are vital.

I’m so glad that God gave us eyes to see all the rich hues of the earth and sky. I’m thankful for the ability to breathe in the essence of each season. My fingers touch delicate flowers and my ears delight when laughter and song meet them. It is all so simple, but yet so complex. The God who designed the delicate butterfly wing is the same God who governs the raging storm. In the same way, He colors our lives with masterful artistry, and calms our fears when the waves crash high.