Son on the Water

 

In the midst of the happy chaos that is cottage family time, there are moments.

Like this.

Sunday night just David and I, out in the kayaks on waters flat with healing.   I find myself vibrantly present in this hour.   The only gentle noise is our strong and rhythmic strokes, the sound of us of quietly being us, mother and son, in the simplest way possible.

Minimal words. 

Maximum inspirations, slowly.

We tuck into the second secluded bay along the route, and there is the sun all red and giving way to the end of another run across the heavenlies.  And there is my son all muscular and pushing forward into the stillness of it.

Like this.

I feel as if I am in the very centre of many prayers answered.

It makes me braver somehow. 

For him. 

For all of us.

And I take none of it for granted.

Take no credit, how dare I?

This is grace, all of it.

Grace upon grace.

Like the sun on the water with the son on the water.

Simple and magnificent, as long as I’m living…