She wrote this 

and my hard, cynical soul melted to tears

i arrived first, to our chalet on the lake

the sky was angry. twisting. blowing. yelling.

the management of the property was just as angry. accusatory. mean.

 

and i started to get angry.

i didn’t yell, but it was boiling inside

right under the surface

being alone

the distrust, the defenses, the walls that are built.

and then a gentle soul ushered me out of the office, away from the angry woman inside.

 

she apologized for her superior’s rudeness and assured me, it was not my fault.

i accepted. her apology. the key to our chalet. that hurt people hurt other people.

i didn’t even stop at the chalet, I went straight for the shore

knowing the beauty of the chaos of the storm would move quickly

and i had to capture it

(i never stopped to think it would be symbolic)

(until now)

The being alone, the storm, the chaos and the angry surrounding me. swirling around me. (trying to bring me down?) I went back to the chalet and sat. listened to the rain. felt the cool air rush through the open windows.

quiet for hours

and when she showed up, it was like welcoming my long-time friend. we hugged and chatted and got down to the serious stuff quickly. then sat in silence again creating Visual Prayers. a comforting silence of understanding.

then the two came. the two i met in a blizzard are now here with me in the blazing heat. (not just fair weather friends. no. not at all.)

 four song birds chirping from afar, finally flying toward the same landing spot for one night

 

indeed. we landed.

grounded.

we broke bread

we shared wine

and stories and tears and laughter. so much laughter.

the storms gave way

to the healing rain

and the healing rain softens my hard, cynical soul

to the point that i cry in my coffee as i understand the healing God is pouring down over me. He brings me around to the pain inflicted on me, spirals around it and shows me the truth.

 

 

 as quick as we landed

we had to fly again. each of us going a different direction.

but like birds migrating, we will  fly together again

the seasons change so quick

the sun sets so fast

we don’t know the first thing about tomorrow. we’re nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing.

Every Thursday we share the harvest of intentional living

by capturing a glimpse of the bigger picture

through a simple moment.

This week, we’re sharing life at Jade’s.