Be Still and Know


As I finished mowing yesterday morning, my husband pulled the car out of the garage and drove to where I was working.  He rolled down the window and told me he'd return in a couple of hours.  Shortly after that, I walked the length of the driveway back to the garage to get some water.  To my dismay, I discovered that my conscientious husband, out of habit, had closed the garage door.  I was locked out.


The neighbors were at work, so I couldn't borrow a phone to call my husband.  I was stuck.  And more than a little annoyed.  I went back to my mowing...and stewed.  What was I supposed to do for two hours?  The mower was about to run out of juice (it did a quarter of the way through the back yard) and the rest of the yard tools were locked away in the garage.  Besides, I had a sermon and articles to write!  When was I supposed to get those done?  This little "lock out" was going to put me way behind schedule.


As I stewed, I mean, mowed, I consoled myself by imagining the very nice "I'm sorry" lunch to which my husband would treat me when he got home.  Oh, it was going to be a nice lunch.  A very nice lunch.


Once the mower gave out, I sat...still stewing.  Man, it was hot.  Even sitting is work when you're sweating.  I decided to walk.


As I walked, it hit me--is this not the gift of time that I long for every day?  Aren't I always complaining that I never have time just to sit and reflect and pray and be?  So after my walk, I sat again in the rocker on the front porch.  I relaxed my body, I breathed deeply, and I listened.  I heard insects, birds, AC units of neighboring homes, jets flying overhead, dogs barking the next street over.  After a few minutes, I felt a breeze--a cool breeze, at that--and was comforted.  In my stillness, in my awareness, I experienced God.


Had my husband not locked me out of the house, the usual frenetic pace of my life would have continued "apace."  I would have rushed in after mowing, showered, and set immediately to work on some writing task.  Because of my "forced" stillness, though, I was able to experience God in as gentle, deep, and real a way as I have done in a long time.  What a gift my husband had given me!


When he returned from his errand, Allen was chagrined at his error.  I told him not to worry; all was well.  Then I quickly showered and changed ... and took him out for a "thank you" lunch.


Peace for your journey,