The Birth of Our First Child {day 4} 31 Moments of Still
And at the end of that time a beautiful rainbow bridge stretched from
heaven to earth and on it came the child as a tiny baby and slid into her mother’s waiting arms.
The Wheels On The Bus {day 3} 31 Days of Still
I spent my early elementary years living in a small Illinois farming town where I took the bus to and from school each day. It was a long trek down the lane where I walked each morning to catch the bus. The schedule even varied from week to week. If it was the early route, I was picked up first. The following week, the driver would reverse the route, and I was picked up last. I’m sure I complained on those days I had to be at the end of our lane so very early, but I do have such fond memories of sitting on that bus.
I was the quiet one. I didn’t chat or laugh it up with other kids. Most of the time I had a book in my hands or rested my forehead against the cool glass and watched the countryside roll by. And what a beautiful countryside it was. Hundred year old farm houses and towering oak trees. Fields full of cattle, tractors plowing, planting, and harvesting. The glitter of freshly fallen snow, first signs of spring, and a kaleidoscope of fall color, always right there just outside my window.
Less than a year ago, I visited that same countryside. My grandmother passed away, and we were traveling from the funeral to the grave site. This time I wasn’t in a bus, but a mini-van. Thirty years had passed, but the journey on that road remained the same. It was probably the strongest deja vu moment I’ve ever experienced. Instantly, I felt a calm sense of still come over me as I rested my head against the glass and it all came flooding back. I remembered how I used to make up stories in my head about the houses and the people that might live there. I remembered stewing over fights with my sisters and dreaming about what life had in store. I watched the rain drops slide down the window and tried to guess which path they would take. I had time to see beyond the ordinary to the extraordinary taking place right before my little eyes.
My own children do not ride the bus. It’s a short 3 minute ride from our house to their school. I often wonder if they are missing out on that quiet time of preparing for the day and decompressing on the way home. It would be easy to look back and think, How many days of my life did I waste on those long bus rides? Lots of time, yes, but wasted time, no. I had a chance to sit, to reflect, to enjoy the beauty of nature, and to be still…couldn’t we all use a little bit more of that…
He says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10
Love You to the Moon and Back {day 2} 31 Moments of Still
I was an honest to goodness worrywart when I was a child. I fretted about everything from having cancer to returning my books to the library past the due date. So when my parents traveled to Hawaii for a vacation, I was beside myself with negative thoughts. A plane crash…no parents…what was a 5th grade girl to do but wring her hands and clench her stomach in fear?
But my mother, in all her love and wisdom, did a beautiful thing. She wrote us a letter for each day she was gone. Every day we opened an envelope to read her reassuring words, but I honestly remember the contents of only one. On this particular day, she figured out a certain time of night when my sister and I (only two of us were old enough) could look at the moon at the very same time that she and my dad looked at it. It was a way for us to feel close even though we were so very far away. The designated time must have been around 9pm because I remember having to stay up a bit longer than usual. We were lying on a mattress in the living room of my grandparents 100 year old farm house and there were huge windows just beside us.
At just the right time, I gazed up through those windows, my eyes staring wide at the brilliant moon above. I think perhaps there might have even been a prayer that we all said at just that same moment. What a gift my mother gave me that evening. It was a shift in perspective I will remember always.
Over the past year I traveled twice to Africa, leaving behind my own young daughters. The first time I went, I wrote them a letter for every day and, yes, one of those nights we stared at the same glorious moon from two continents away. Separated by distance, but not by love.
In times when I feel overwhelmed, I am still comforted and calmed by placing my gaze upon the moon. It holds great significance for me. A beacon of light in the darkest of times. Even more so because it reminds me of the love of the One who placed it in the evening sky. I like to think He knew we would need a reminder in the midst of our darkness, that there is light shining down on us. And just like the moon, that light we need so greatly is a reflection. It is the reflection of a love so deep and so strong that it is above our ability to comprehend. A love that always lights the way just when we need it the most…
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5
Earliest Memory {day 1} 31 Moments of Still
A trip down memory lane. That’s what this challenge is turning out to be for me. It’s a fitting time for such a trip. In the autumn season, I often find myself turning inward. As the leaves change, so does the direction of my thoughts. I find that I’m more reflective as the days grow cooler and shorter. The rhythm of nature reminding me that times of quiet and rest are necessary to thrive and grow.
For this first moment of still, I wracked my brain for a very first memory of safety and security. As a baby, I know I was greatly loved. I was the first granddaughter on my dad’s side, the first child my parents would get to hold in their arms. I had no shortage of loving people in my life to nurture (and spoil) me. So, what was my first memory of the quiet still that I seek so earnestly these days…
I don’t know what age I was, but it was definitely winter. I recall sliding my little legs inside the arm of my mother’s winter coat. I was wearing my Sunday best with the requisite legging tights because I remember feeling the silky lining of her coat rub against the stockings on my legs. I cocooned myself, warm and cozy, and laid down on the wooden church pew. The sound of the organ and voices of my parents mixing in with the congregation. Warm, safe, loved…still. In the embrace of that moment, I rested, giving in to the peace that soothed my little soul.
I’m sure I wasn’t always an angel during those early church services, but to this day sitting in the church sanctuary brings me much peace. I am thankful that my parents didn’t relegate me to the church nursery that day, though I’m sure there were plenty of times they did. How amazing to think my first memory of peace and serenity is within the very house of my Lord – the only one who can bring true, lasting stillness.
As 36-year-old adult, I can no longer cocoon myself in a pew, but I can most certainly rest in Him. That moment, more than 30 years ago, is a reminder to me that the stillness I desire is never more than a breath away. In His presence, all can find rest.
Come to me, all you who are
weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and
learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest
for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Matthew 11:
28-31
31 Moments of Still
Several bloggers I admire have joined a challenge to write a post each day during the month of October for 31 Days of {Change}. There are over one thousand interesting topics that women are writing about this month. I am late to the party. I did not have a topic planned out in advance, and I do not have a list of posts waiting in the wings. But I just have a feeling that I need to do this, so here we go: 31 moments of still.
If you take the time to read this blog, you will quickly see I have been anything but diligent in writing about my quest for stillness in my life. Perhaps this little 31 day exercise is just what I need – a reminder of why I started this journey in the first place.
Sometimes I get so caught up in thinking about what I need to DO to find MORE stillness in my life that I don’t appreciate the moments I’ve already been given. So, for the 31 days of October, I am going to take time to reflect on 31 moments of still that have occurred in my own life. Perhaps in doing so, I just might learn a thing or two.