Sunday, April 12, 2015
For the past few years transparency and simplicity have been my themes. I've done my best to embrace the changing seasons, and part of that began with looking for the good in winter. The trees stripped to their branchy essence and the light that filtered through the spaces between their boughs inspired my themes. I've held these close as I pared down my belongings and worked my hardest to become the same person to everyone (which I have since questioned the possibility of actually doing, but nonetheless still feel the value in attempting).
But this year has felt different, for a variety of reasons, and I'm sensing a new theme emerging: peace. I've felt it in my heart, and I've seen it manifested in the world around me, this draw to stillness, contentment, and rest.
I'm feeling flooded with its importance as I sit right now in Starbucks, watching the sun reflect creamy yellow, marigold, and rose light, almost fading into white before turning the palest shade of blue; then it deepens. I thought on my way here, as I drove in the darkness, how assuring it is to have a clock to count the hours because otherwise I might wake unknowingly in the mid-night darkness and wonder if the sun would ever again appear. If I didn't know the hour, I might wait expectantly for what felt like forever, and my hope for light would eventually wane.
This season has been a long, early morning, but I'm finding that when I open my eyes, invitations to hope abound, and I'm challenged to cultivate stillness, contentment, and rest no matter the hour. And my prayer is that this may become a year of peace.
(For those interested, Instagram has become my ebenezer of sorts, a life-giving way for me to record reminders of God's work and beauty around me.)