“My nest was empty…my life being resorted. Old habits were no longer useful….a new parenthesis had begun. The depiction of this evening in my life was symbolic of new things to come…new goodnesses to be explored and enjoyed. God spoke loudly through the beauty of earth. And I loved hearing His voice.” – Linda
It was getting late. Evening pressed hard on the heels of day. We had just finished a leisurely dinner, and I had begun to clear the table. I had feasted on this day already: so sunny yet cool; crisp and bright. My morning glories had outdone themselves, and spilled over my porch railing in heavenly blue abandon. I watched from the kitchen window as our kitten chased his elusive golden tail in a frenzied series of circular leaps and turns.
Yes, all was very well with my changing world.
“Get the dishes done first, and then take a walk,” I told myself. I had purposely said “no” to having a dishwasher installed in our new home, and enjoyed the dishwashing time as my personal ritual–a time to think and plan–a soft transition between daytime and night. I began to wash the first dish, and was distracted by a low ribbon of sun lying across our row of sunflowers. There wasn’t much time. I sighed, slipped the dishes into the silken bubbles, and obeyed the swelling of my soul.
My husband came along, picking up the walking stick his mother had used, and donning his wide-brimmed hat. Hand in hand, we strode across the hills surrounding us, keeping to the little trails made a generation earlier by some farmer needing access to his cropland. The ducks flew low–so very close to our heads: silent, moving black dots against a tangerine sky.
Two deer watched us, alert and graceful on their tiny spike heels. A farmer climbed brown wrinkles of plowed earth on his tractor, and fitted his land for planting.
Breathe deeply, man. Breathe deeply, woman. It is earth, and it is now. It may never be again exactly as it is this moment.
On our right, God had hung the moon, a single pearl: gossamer against the dove-gray sheen of an evening sky. On our left, a continual parade of color washed the horizon: now pink, now gold, now scarlet–a palette of luminous color moved about by a celestial hand. We were transfixed between the two, incapable of speech. “And evening and morning were the first day.”
The valley below unfurled into undulating fields of corn, and tiny yellow lights blinked comfortably from farmhouse windows.
It was time for all God’s creatures to settle in for the night. The ducks nestled happily in the marsh. The deer were secure in the maze of corn. Farm families were gathering in their homes. We walked in silence up the steep gravel drive toward our house, savoring the exquisite moonglow lighting our path. Our spirits touched the hem of His garments in thanks for our home, our family, our internal peace, our future with Him.
The banquet of nature had been spread, like a feast, before us, and from it we drew sustenance for our souls.
Some gifts are given every day.
And to think: I almost stayed at the sink.