“I have been drifting,” she said.
This week and one day later her words still with me.
I turn them over and over, let them hollow me out.
Haven’t I been also?
A broken heart turned her rudder.
What of me? What will shake me out of this hapless meander?
Beginning to wonder.
So I wander instead.
Outside at dusk.
Sit on front stoop and listen.
Watch bats flap maniacally.
Full moon rises over three of Billie Jo’s trees.
She planted them when she wanted a baby so badly. Empty inside; so she grew things. The yard is lush with shrubbery and flowering bushes.
But these three—Cyprus trinity with golden eye above.
They make me think of little Sarah who now sleeps in Billie Jo’s nursery.
They seem so…frantic.
Crazy wings fanning, senseless dips and dives.
I turn my mind to Him. Deliberately turn the rudder. Focus heart on Him…
One of my patients recently told me that when he was dying, in the moments when he almost left this world, he felt it.
“The peace that surpasses all understanding.”
“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
I grope around for it, blindly reaching.
Where are You in all this, Lord?
Sometimes He makes me wait, further molding my character. But tonight, He knows my desperation. He comes to me and tends my heart. Wraps me in His love. And I feel it too…this peace.
A firefly alights beside me.
I am bemused.
Lucy Mae tries to eat it.
I think of the love trees. And the crazy flap of a bat’s wings.
And it all makes sense.
The Spirit inside directs my steps.
It feels haphazard. It feels empty sometimes.
But there is a reason.
This, I trust with all my heart. Sometimes, I just need to remember.
For other stories of how His Word lives…