Eternity pauses in the middle of this moment. In this creaking chair in the corner of this coffee shop with its cream brick and rounded windows on the north end of Main Street. From southeast Wisconsin, glaring winter is mostly gone. Faded ivy climbs the wall of the building next door as buds cling to the promise of the opening to come.
I jump out of my skin, but then I always come back. Even when I don’t know where the first notes sounded or how they continue.
You see, I want to grip this life in my fist and steer it where it needs to go. Even when I do not understand where that is, I still try to direct because if I can feel the texture of my future beneath my fingers, then I can look at it and see where it will go.
Just let it go.
Baristas carve their lattes, swirling milk and espresso. A little boy bobs behind his mother, eyes orbed in wonder at the space of café and the chatter of people. The world lingers between the lines, which I have worked hard to keep in order.
When will I finally learn that my life is not my own?
The beauty of walking on this earth is not having to ordain every step of my own making and live in a paralyzing fear that I have swerved to the wrong course. It’s a renewal of a mystery within, an okay-ness with letting the wonder linger.
God is raising the dead hope in me after a season of grief. How this winter has been hard! It has had me grasping for any semblance of certainty in health, relationships, and an elusive inner calm, but I am beginning to see that out of the storm, unexplored stillness appears.
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