It’s a pivot is all, the motion of the body choosing one way over the other.
I open the door and pause, I’ll either go right or go left.
Either answer the bird call, the sky going blue or I’ll walk steady, coffee sat down on coaster and settle into the cushions, sort of sinking in and stuck.
Today, I chose the right and I remembered I love the morning and why.
Morning, most of all is to me without judgement.
Time briefly uncrowded, alone and without conversation.
It seems morning is worthy.
Worthy of such respect.
Morning, I believe the time most devoid of fear and fullest of perhaps.
The bordered sky, pink buffering to blueish violet hue.
Never a harsh beckon to come see, instead a call to step outside and to stand still,
To turn one side then the other and then discover before stepping through the door back in.
The moon still hanging,
the moon and the sun the same this morning, their calling of me.
Convincing me, be still, be still.
In this morning time, the moon, the sun they say.
Be still and know that He is God.
Momentarily, I turn to go inside then look back and see.
The two of them, together like goose and duckling or buck and a doe.
Two of them catch my eye, not typically together, usually one bright, the other with feathers tinted brown, they fly by, a couple.
Two females this morning, a cardinal pair catch my gaze and I’m astounded it has happened again.
Yesterday a friend shared something she’d been told.
…a cardinal’s presence represents a time to renew vitality through developing and accepting a new sense of our own true self.
Birds, red in color appearing almost always now. It’s extraordinary if you must know.
Back inside, I sit and write. I turn to read the guided passage in Timothy and in the Psalms.
The Labrador drops his tennis ball and waits at my feet. Morning, he knows.
He waits while I read.
Quiet every morning.
And the Psalm talks of birds and escape and how my hope is in the name of the Lord, how I’d once been held captive.
Now I’m free. So much more free.
“We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken, and we have escaped! Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”
Psalms 124:7-8 ESV
And I know for sure this much is true. The maker of every sunrise and moon waiting to fade away and the red birds perched and parading are for me, not against.
The maker of heaven and earth, of morning and night, the maker of me
and of you.
I am so very certain.
Certain of his knowing my name.
Yours too.
God is everywhere.
Don’t forget to notice.
For I’m not sure how long, I’ve linked my posts up on other writers’ blogs. In the beginning, I felt uncertain, felt “Community” was beyond my place as a writer. I decided to join, a hard thing for me and my insecurities, my measure of me.
What began as a hopeful chance to be seen has now become, dare I say it, a community. Reading the words of likeminded writers and reading the words of those with different expression, I’ve been educated, am now certain that I’m the only one with my voice, my experiences and my tone even.
Last week, we were in Genesis in Sunday school, the very beginning of the book. The question for discussion was about how God’s plan of creation made us feel about Him. Some said that we should honor Him, others said He’s in control.
I kept my response to myself, shared later with some women. I realized just how intricately I am made and how purposeful God was in creation. This means no need for competing, no cause for comparison.
As if God has said all along “Lisa Anne, You be you!”
The Tell His Story Community is a place to see this truth, to honor it, to honor God.
I’m so happy it is continuing and I know I’m not the only one!
You’ll be great, Mary! You be you.
Linking this post with others here:
Tell His Story
Lisa Anne Tindal 