Best For Last

I am out on the deck finishing up a supper of grilled chicken and tomato. Softly, Steve Bell's "On the Wings of an Eagle" plays into the breeze, and obligingly, as if to provide me with a real live multimedia show, an osprey floats on a current above. A chipmunk has joined me, curious to know if anything on my plate might suit his tastes. On the counter inside is about three cups of blueberries gathered this afternoon, and I'm trying to decide if I'll be taking them all home with me, or I'll sneak some for dessert tonight.

The sun keeps coming out from behind some rather dubious clouds, leaving vibrant streaks of late sun touching the tree tops across the channel, then shooting out across the top, back and forth like that.

That same breeze the osprey is floating on is delicious on my skin against the heat of this day. I breathe in slowly, deeply, and can feel the fresh oxygen rushing, it seems, to every gentle cell in my body. The stillness of my soul is profound.

I would say that all this is happening for me so vividly in these moments because they are among the last of my time here at the cottage this summer, and I am trying to grab as much of them as I can. Well....yes. But the truth is that all these moments register as vivid and wonderful the whole time I'm here - all of them. I am fully present in them all, grateful for their real time reality against the thousand thoughts of wishing for them all winter long. In some parts of me, I am most alive, most in touch with the me of me, when I am here.

And this last week has been the best of it. This does not mean that the weekend with my daughter and two of our grandkids wasn't sensational. It was! And Abby catching frogs, and Zachary's glee-intensity over the chipmunks were so much fun!

I also thoroughly enjoyed having our Staff Team up for those few days, and the truly memorable sunset baptism for Paula.

And I have to say that in 33 years of marriage, plus 5 summers coming to Georgian Bay before that, this year, the time Ken and I had alone? Beautiful!

But it seems that God has left the best for last. It hasn't really been until these past five days alone that I've been able to really hunker down and listen to all He had in mind to chat with me about. Five weeks, and it took until now to quiet down enough. But we did get to it, eventually.

First, I don't do conflict very well. Hardly news to most who know my passion for peace, and the mother-part of me that "just wants everyone to get along!". But this last week on my own, I've been able to listen, and see how this could be hindering some decision making processes and the team dynamics of the people I lead.

Second, my neglect of self care is becoming more of a threat to myself, my life's work, and all those I love and lead, as I get older. Hard fact, but there it is. I'm 54 and I just can't "do" as much dysfunction as I used to and get away with it. My sin of pushing too hard is producing increasingly damaging consequences for myself and others, and it needs to stop. And my pride has been blinding me to this.

Third, I've been worrying again, big time. Letting life's challenges threaten me, forgetting that I have an ENORMOUS God! The engery waste of this is criminal.

And lastly, (at least of the things I'm willing to blog about), I've been told to WAIT and LISTEN. Don't even really know exactly what that means yet. But everytime I would even begin to approach God with questions of direction and guidance, where the church, or my own minisrty needs to go from here, those two words would crowd right into my brain. They're all over my journal. WAIT. LISTEN.

So tomorrow I head home with all of that packed lovingly into my soul.

And tonight I sit on the deck,
resting in the vividness of it all,
revelling in God's breathy nearness.
And deeply, deeply grateful.
He's saved the best for last this year.
And I thank Him.

There are only two places on this planet for which my heart aches when I am not there.

This is one of them.
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network