This morning I had to pause and simply thank God once again for the beautiful place in which we live. When I was single, I had the luxury of hiking up the mountain
behind my parents' house on the mountain with our loyal, guard dog, Harley to spend time with God. I had a special place that I went each time. It was my secret meeting place with the lover of my soul. I rarely took anyone there. I took Bill there once to "define the relationship" when one of us (clears throat - namely, me) had stronger feelings and hopes than the other. After God changed Bill's heart, he took me back there and proposed. It was a sacred place to me. Holy Ground. God had healed many a wound there and showered many rhemas upon me. I found strength there. I found peace there. I could take an afternoon nap there when I had been unable to sleep at night.About five years ago, or so, that "mountain" became a development. Bill and I walked up to my "place" and found "my" log. It was in the back yard of a future home. We wished we could buy the lot, but it was not to be. We took a piece of the log, a few pictures and left. I couldn't go back there anymore. Where would my next "place" be?
This morning I sat on my porch, backed up to the mountain on my newly renovated and cushioned furniture. I watched two hummingbirds dart around my flowers. A momma robin perched herself in the top of the apple tree with a six-legged creature in her mouth. With muffled chirps, she tried to call someone else to join her for breakfast. I had intended to be reading my Bible, but couldn't help just throwing my head back and letting my face soak in the sun while my soul soaked in the whole experience. I have a very special place - every day. One where I can remember the things I loved in my youth before life got so complicated.
This spring and summer, God has been doing some heart surgery. One of the loving things He's done has stripped away caloused layers of my heart and helped me remember the things that have always brought me joy.
I have rediscovered my love for the beauty of the outdoors. I have rediscovered my joy in being creative- painting, sewing, crafting. I tend to escape to the fabric store just to touch the fabrics and dream about what they could be. I notice
people's unique clothes everywhere I go and long to make my sewing machine hum again. I have rediscovered the Balzer passion for shoes. O my!
I have rediscovered my love for taking pictures and really miss my good camera!
Bill borrowed and i-pod to bring home and "give" me a song (Where You Are by Rascal Flatts) after his rough day on the course, Monday. I redisovered my love for pumping loud music into my head with headphones and rockin' like a rock star in front of the mirror with the bedroom doors closed! :D
It is good to be alive.
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