October 9th, 2009

Reaching

Peace (no prize required)

Mostly keeping my head down and nose to the grindstone of late—we're in the throes of event season at work, which is exciting but takes lots of attention and effort. Pushed a few things back a couple of weeks because, while I could fit the meetings in to my schedule, there's no way I could really be present at anything beyond an operational level. The biggest of the events is this Sunday (our annual vision dinner), and though next week is full, they're all "objects in motion," so I'm hopeful that momentum can help.

Got lots of simple odds and ends done around the house today, which left me feeling settled enough to take in the last few moments of dusk on the Seattle skyline. The quiet is peaceful and centering. I'm spending so much of my days doing things (many self-imposed), and when I'm not, I'm strongly bent to let God have none of the rest of my time, often actively running from Him. Part of me believes He's the one who takes rather than the one who gives (and surely both are true, yet surely not as simply as my insecurities lead me to believe), so I hoard whatever of my time and energy I can claim for myself. It's childish and selfish, telling me so much about what I really believe and where I need to be transformed.

That all melts away with the sunset, not because I feel better, but because He is trustworthy. It's a gift to be able to see it, and I write it down because I'll forget again, all too soon. It's true regardless of my memory, but oh, how much better I can rest when I remember. The breeze rustles through the leaves just for me, a gentle shushing that reminds me of my place and my Father. My grasp of the truth is a tiny, tiny seed, but He can work with that.