Invisible Wonders

The usual late afternoon heat has surrendered to the cool breeze of late autumn. The perfect in every way air embrace that my skin waits all year for. When the invisible wonders of peace and temperature float along side each other and wash over you in the gentlest of waves. 

The ocean is calm today after a week of unusual storms and blustery days. The humpback whales have returned for the season. I find my eyes search for their evanescent fountains every time I glance out at the sea. Great whites have also returned and I haven’t been in the water since the sighting of a 15ft dinosaur descendent 1 mile down the coast from me. 

Last week my left hand found itself caught between a window frame and large sliding window.

I’ve been doing everything one handed as the bruises, that I hope are not sheltering fractures, heal. I stripped and made a kingsize bed with one hand then made an espresso which made me think I was some kind of undiscovered superhero. Wrangling the Mastiff proved more difficult, and I kind of gave up fixing my hair but I adjusted to the rest of the daily needs. But even in my “everything’s okay, I’m fine thanks” superhero independence I had to let people help me this week. I said yes, to the kind Costco employee you offered to follow me all the way out to the back of the parking lot (because I never park close) and put the 40lb bag of dog food in my truck. Although I did say no when he offered to push the cart too. “I’m fine, thanks!”, as I used all my body weight against it. I managed to get the giant bag into the bottom of my shopping cart after an embarrassing amount of time one handed but I’ll admit I was a tad concerned about the cart to truck transfer. I said okay to my dad carrying a few large items for me. I said okay when my sister offered to braid my hair. (Or perhaps the state of my hair was crying out to her for help)

My sister moved back to the mainland this week. We had been leaning on each other far more than I realized until she left the island. And this considerable wave of sadness capsized me into a sea of jellyfish. I’m alone again, it’s nearly the end of the year, all the things I thought might happen didn’t happen, and my hand hurts.

Often rest is all I want when there’s chaos and yet still so hard to surrender to when it shows up. 

This breeze though, this gentle perfect breeze becomes everything I need in the present. It swirls with peace and dives down deep into my lungs. It rests my muscles and eases my mind. And all the heavily detailed worries and cares of only moments ago become a Monet. 

I don’t have to be perfect to feel it. I don’t have to be ready and capable and strong. I can be wounded and weak and heart broken and let it take it all off my shoulders until I’m weightless. 

May peace rest upon you wherever you are. 

Psalm 61:2-4 (AMP)

From the end of the earth I call to You, 

when my heart is overwhelmed and weak;

Lead me to the rock that is higher than I 

A rock that is too high to reach without Your help.

For You have been a shelter and a refuge for me,

A strong tower against the enemy.

Let me dwell in Your tent forever;

Let me take refuge in the shelter of Your wings.

Philippians 4:6-8 (TPT)

Don’t be pulled in different directions or worried about a thing. 

Be saturated in prayer throughout each day, offering your faith-filled requests 

before God with overflowing gratitude. Tell him every detail of your life, 

then God’s wonderful peace that transcends human understanding, 

will guard your heart and mind through Jesus Christ. 

Keep your thoughts continually fixed on all that is authentic and real, 

honorable and admirable, beautiful and respectful, pure and holy, merciful and kind. And fasten your thoughts on every glorious work of God, praising him always.