And He said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.” (For there were many people coming and going, and they did not even have time to eat.)
– Mark 6:31
Things have lain quiet in this blog corner for a while.
I was otherwise occupied.
Elsewhere, some of the time.
A brief elsewhere, but so blessed. Just husband and me: Where cell phone service didn’t reach (read “intrude”), where internet connecting required more complicated action than merited the effort.
And what freedom just those two not-havings gave us!
Together we savored five star foods, ventured quiet walks (but not too long, because he’d hurt his back with… yep, overwork!), visited the excellent bookstore at hand (of course), toured an interesting local history museum (that stirred the notion of writing some fiction), sat in nooks and crannies sprinkled with shadows, read a lot, picnicked by rushing waters, and drank in beautiful views. We laughed and reminisced on thirty years of marriage and the incredible things God has done as we’ve steered through challenges and victories, disappointments and joys, together.
I’ve been “absent” for two other reasons:
1) The “otherwise occupied” was very occupied.
Familiar faces appeared at the door, then spent afternoons stretching into evenings, or a couple of overnights.
Phone calls surprised me with long ago voices and spawned more get-togethers.
Another year’s harvest cried and pleaded and shouted and screamed (and is still at it!), for canning and freezing and drying and storing, accompanied by the siren call of peeling paint and pre-fall clean-up and all the other needs to prepare for winter.
And again we tried to squeeze in those many “events” folks around here schedule for before the nip of killing frost that signals icy roads are soon to follow…
2) Yet amid all this, I purposed not to rob myself, as last year, of precious, needful time apart, to spend with Him, looking up.
My soul needs this harvest time,
for inventorying the treasures old and new He’s put within my stewardship,
for doing the needful searching of soul, to determine: what to keep, what to use up, what to put aside, what to throw out,
to be still so I can hear His voice.
This has been a challenge, and it didn’t always happen. Summer’s blessings are also interruptions.
But we need the stilling—at least I do—need the time for soul restoring, heart reorienting. Otherwise the blessing in the interruptions, and the presence of mind and strength of spirit I need to meet them with grace and greet them with pleasure, all get lost in the overload.
So today this corner is still quite still. And it may not get exactly raucous for a couple of weeks. For now I just leave you with some of the scenes that blessed me. May you enter their moments, too, and breathe in a little of their peace…
And He said…, “Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.”
*****
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<3 a quieting post. Even with the preparing for winter paragraph. love the emphasis on restoration, continuing to come apart in the midst of getting things done. balance.
Laurie,
That’s the need God’s showing me, repeatedly. But there hasn’t been as much of it as I guess this post made it look like. It takes conscientious purposing on this teeter-totter of life today. Working on it…
Beautiful… Time well spent. A needed reminder. Thanks.
And time well needed, Floyd! Thanks for commenting.
This reminds me of Ecclesiastes 3……to everything there is a season and a time and a purpose under heaven. YOu are wisely observing the seasons. Oh! Where do you live where there a covered bridges, where the rivers run free? Gorgeous. At the base of the tree (the one before scrolling down to the covered bridges), if you tilt your head just so, there’s a butterfly etched in wounded bark. It’s ready to rise and soar. THere is a time for woundedness, and there is a time for healing. There is a time for being grounded. There is a tim for flying.
Bless you, Sylvie. I missed you.
Lynn
Blessings right back to you, Lynn. You are an encourager. I am not “wisely observing the seasons” as much as I’d like to be. But I think I’m learning.
The photos were all taken in the “Endless Mountains” of Pennsylvania.
And I didn’t notice the butterfly until you pointed it out (or a number of other things). I still wasn’t slowing down enough to look that closely at the moment’s details and ponder them. Thank you for doing that, and sharing this beautiful insight.
Visiting from Still Saturday. What a beautiful post that truly just breathed peacefulness.
So glad you stopped by and commented, Beth. Hopping over to your place I really liked your photos and your “Three Words” link-up. Good idea. Hope to link up soon.