I sit and watch the sunlight dancing on the water, skipping
over the tiny ripples made by the warm summer breeze. Marveling at the beauty of my surroundings, I
can not fathom how someone can see what I see, and still doubt the existence of
an Almighty Creator.
The intricacies and the complexities of living things are
beyond just happenstance.
As we move through our life, we gather what we cherish, holding
it close to our heart trying to keep it safe so it will last forever. Perhaps we acquire too much to hold, or maybe
we give too much importance to some of our choices. Things should not be coveted, but rather
appreciated while they last and let go as part of the constantly changing
cycles that are meant to occur in nature. This concept is often the most difficult, to
give up something we love, or to let someone we love go. And so we move silently, desperately holding
onto what we hold most dear, knowing full well that nothing is permanent.
When we were young we’d
return home, arms loaded with packages, shoes clutched at the end of our
fingertips and tiptoe through the house sneaking past our parents’ room, hoping
they won’t hear that you’ve returned after curfew. Sometimes we try to carry too much and a
shoe slips from our grasp and falls silently, tumbling in slow motion through
the airspace until it lands with a loud thud on the floor. We freeze instantly, afraid to breathe,
straining to hear a change in the rhythmic breathing coming from behind the
door, praying the other shoe won’t follow the first as we move achingly slow
down the hall to the safety of our own room
It is with great
reverence that I tiptoe through my daily life knowing that at any time
everything could change. I have been
blessed with so much, and sometimes I fear I have accepted and held onto too
much; not wanting to lose any of the wonderful things I have been given or
attained. I hold my breath as I move
through life trying to create as little disturbance as I can so as not to draw
attention to humanity’s Sleeping Giant.
I pray quietly to our Father who blesses us and loves us
unconditionally; so much that he allows us this time here to stop and gather
what we love, and appreciate what he has given to us.
We often drop our shoe
along the way and like a most forgiving parent, gives us a pass to continue to
our room, often without comment. But in
the end, in prayer to our Father who art in heaven, we also say Thy will be
done…and we must acknowledge that this is often the unknown curfew that is
set, and sooner or later we will have gathered all that we could carry and the
other shoe will drop from our grasp and we will be called to our Parent’s room,
never to return to the room at the end of the hall. We approach that door with fear and regret,
but it is not because of fear of our Father who is calling us home. It is because we must leave what we have
loved most; to proceed to the second stage of our life. It is the ones we leave behind that
experience the hurt and pain of our departure.
We can only hope that those, whom we held close, will celebrate our life,
because we have fulfilled our purpose, and will pick up what was important and
carry our memory with them until they are given a curfew of their own.
