I need to remind myself to be aware of each moment as it comes. I want to put my trust out there to relieve myself of the burden of suffering. I can do that by breathing, and knowing only that breath...for just that short moment. And yet, I can extend this joy by breathing and knowing...breathing and knowing...over and over again.
And I want to take refuge in Jesus. I have this image of Him and me looking across a green pasture. It is bordered on one side by a wall of old stone, dug up from the soil by generations of worriers before me, farmers. Behind us is a narrow dirt road, lined on each side by sugar maple trees - flaming in their red and orange autumn clothes. The odd birch tree that stands among them adds a mix of green.
There is a pleasant sound of leaves flickering in the slightest stir of air.
And the sun is warming, reaching deep down to my bones.
We sit there, He and I. We have our arms around each other's shoulder, like two childhood buddies who have not let adulthood shame them. And we look across the field to the mountains beyond.
Hawks criss-cross the sky, and there is the scent of fresh cut hay.
All we need to do is rest. The silence is our dialogue.
No thinking. Just being.
All is well.
This is enough for Him…
And all I ever want.