storms

As I awoke to the ping of ice crystals pelting the windows, the blankets of my bed could not have been more inviting. As if a newly-transfigured butterfly resisting emergence from a cocoon, I finally pulled myself from slumber around 8:30. There was a mental list of things to accomplish for the weekend: wash and wax the car once more before the county trucks encrusted everything in winter salt, do the bit of Christmas shopping my pitiful checking account could afford, get some groceries, etc. But unlike the sweet whipped delight that covers holiday goodies, the icing that coated the midwest had nixed all plans. I was a hostage in my home.

I had lunch with a friend today. He recently was released from a ministry role he had poured himself into entirely. Now he is adrift, questioning, searching, wondering.

I think sometimes God allows storms to arise, permits boulders to fall from the mountain tops and come to rest directly in the footpath that leads to the summit, and otherwise alters our plans so we are forced to rest. To take a break, re-evaluate, regroup, and resolve. Sometimes we get so caught up in running our own race that it takes a broken ankle to get our attention and regain our focus during our recovery.

So I rested during the storm. I relaxed for the first time in weeks (maybe months). I did....nothing. and HE was there. in music. in friends. in silence.

Lord, send more storms...