It was a night to remember. I was on a personal, sabbath retreat at a cottage by a lake, and it was getting late. Piano music drifted in magical waves through my window. From a chair plumped in pillows, I watched night envelop day. Creator God was preparing His children for bed.
Shadows deepened against the orange bar of sunlit water. Stars brightened against encroaching night. “Peace on earth”. “Good will toward mankind”. I could hear the message of the night.
A strand of lights sparkled along the shoreline. A lone fishing boat drifted dark against the sun. I thought about the night. Wasn’t it God’s engraved invitation to rest and surrender all my cares? When I shortened my night wasn’t I declaring some kind of mutiny against this care? Night was God’s good idea. From the beginning He gave us, His kids, the gift.
With a sigh, Day changed places with night. “Your turn”, it seemed to say. I was overcome with the mystic stillness. God had spoken: “Rest”. “Renew” “Surrender”. “Here is my gift prepared for you before the foundations of the earth”.
Finally came the ecstasy of laying my head down on the pillow. The songs of night played on. As I watched, silken strands of starlight played over the windowsill through evening mists. “How kind”, I thought, “and how good of God to make these jewels for my enjoyment”.
That was a night to remember–mostly because I stopped.
Lingering, at such a time, unwrapped the holy to me. And the gift comes every day!
Sharing with L.L. Barkat @ http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/
and Laura @ the wellspring: http://www.lauraboggess.com/