Reset

Rain pounds down, relentless.

I pack up my suitcase for another long weekend away, away from my current state of adjustment to a new life in a new state. Supposedly, storms bring newness, refreshing and renewal. Everything still seems to be the same.

I had thought by now I’d have more solid answers to this life, but I only have the certainty that all I can expect is the unseen. To be satisfied in the shimmer, clear ripple across the air, instead of solid ground beneath me.

Here I go, grasping at my head, my heart, my mind, attempting to piece them together as I see fit. As I keep guessing about the work of God here, He reassembles it all, disbands what I desperately strain to hold.

I thought a great many things would have materialized by now. But, like the next batch of rain moving in, I am held in suspension, kept in wait. Heart hovers its hope and flesh exposed as I am charged with stepping one foot in front of the other, only today given a true glance at what God has called me to at this moment.

Be patient and trust, the still, small voice kindly says. I want the tangible, proof laid before me for what this trust even looks like.

Relax, I tell myself, release your grip on what was never even yours to begin with.

Branches bow low in the wind, already heavy and loaded with water drenching leaves. In this severe weather that draws charcoal in the sky and has all counties on edge, there is a beautiful calm in its wildness, the unexpected patterns and how these clouds hammer wherever they desire. Unscripted orchestration, power and pause, lightning lithe down its walkway. A beautiful terror, or terrible beauty.

Who’s to say they aren’t the same?

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Honored to have an essay over at The Mudroom. Won’t you head over and read the rest, then stay a while and read other incredible work that’s there?