Day of retreat

Today was the first moment that I've been still in a long, long time. No people, no pressure. No phone or iPod or Bible. Nothing but me and God and the beauty of His creation. It took me quite some time to get still – I rambled through the woods, jumped over the creek, walked in a freshly-plowed field. I paused here and there, but I couldn't quite enter into silence. But I finally a sat down on a bridge over the small creek, listening to it gurgle below. I listened to the water on the rocks and thought about what a lovely sound God had made for us, so simple and so soothing for my soul. Then thoughts from the world beyond crept in and I found myself saying, "Shhhh" aloud. Not an angry "Shush!" but a soothing "Shhh," like I might say to my children when they got upset. As I called my mind and soul to be still, I began to cry. Not weep or sob, just tears rolling down. I wasn't sad – I was simply tired and entering into a rest that I've needed for months. I wasn't trying to learn something from God or pray or do anything except rest with Him, in His presence. To simply sit and enjoy what He had made, the sound of the water and the sight of the current rippling in different courses downstream. When the sun would shine out from the clouds, the ripples became more distinct, speckled and dancing. The wind blew in my face, and I was at rest. I can't remember the last time I had been unreachable by phone or text or email, the last time I hadn't had a person or a responsibility simply an arm's length or phone call away. I need that more often. As I listened to the stream, I realized that the sound came as the water went over the rock. The rock was still and the water moved. In the same way, I am to be still, letting the Lord wash over me, and trusting that He will speak in the midst of His life flowing over and around and into mine.