“Time-less”-- Not in the classic, “never-goes-out-of-style” sense of the word. More like the “completely-lacking-a-timekeeping-device” sense of the word.
That was me, and because I had no watch, I have a memory
etched in time. Would you like to hear it? Oh, do, come along and see what transpired
in my time-less snippet of time whatever.
Once upon a time, I set out on a walk. To think, to pray,
really. The high summer clouds tumbled over one another until they cloaked the
sky and released their thunder. It rumbled, and then…
Tiny umbrella-like seeds alighted on the wind, twirling away
like a million Mary Poppinses, minus the nanny.
The promise of rain filled my lungs.
I scrambled to pull out my—no, silly. Not my umbrella. My
hat? No, not that, either. My notebook. One must scribble when the heavens
open, you know.
Moments, released from their endless march around the clock
(which I didn’t have, remember), whooshed through the cattails and set them dancing,
bobbing.
I savored.
I single-tasked.
I didn’t “task” at all.
And I suddenly stood in the middle of a symphony:
Pen scratched
Wind whisked
Aspens clappedGrasses kept time:
a l l e
g r o
staccato
pizzicato
An unseen Creator signaled crescendo, and the cicadas
sounded.
Stillness, thunder, and—
Rain.
I was caught, joy-filled, loving Marianne Dashwood for giving me the
words-- “is there any felicity in the
world superior to this?” The soft drops baptized
me from a grey sky that set the summer green all around afire in emerald and
jade. Green vibrant against grey-- life unexpected, like precious“streams in the desert.”
A few eager leaves spun to the ground, teasing of Autumn…
And it was perfect.
Timeless.
Like the Creator. Oh, His
glory was declared.
Psalm 19:1-4
The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
Yes, wordless speech poured forth into all the earth- and straight into
my heart.
Timeless, He is. Mighty. Gentle. Cleansing. Restoring. …Faithful.
All of this—for you.
Always.
"He will be like rain
falling on a mown field,
like showers watering the earth." Psalm 72:6
