Blogging in the wee hours is a liberating feeling.
All puppies and children are fast asleep in this neck of the woods. Tucked in their beds. Safe. Most of the city is quiet. New Moms are up with their thirsty babies. Some are pacing to seek calm. Some are rocking back and forth. Some are sitting under a blanket nursing quietly wondering if they will ever have another full night of sleep. The fridge whirs........ dreams float on by. I wonder how many little ones weren't rocked, tucked in......unsafe?
Outside, even the wind is quiet tonight. Stars alight. The moon, high up in the sky now looks like its bursting to be full. Soon. It will be full. But the constant river flows it's timeless meandering. Comforting predictability, my river flows............... I can't hear it, but I know its out there.
I've always enjoyed witching hour writing. When I can't sleep, I come here to reflect on the lives of my loved ones and how everything is unfolding. We have no control over most of life's roll out. The best we can do is recognize it, accept the tangles of it, and just be grateful for the goodness every single day has to offer. And love one another as we set forth...... We never have to tackle life's tangles alone.
Last week, I held a baby for the first time in a long time. He sat in my arms drinking his bottle while his Mom cut my hair. I had forgotten the soft comfort of a little one, so trusting......... so dependent... nestled in my arms. New life. A miracle. A smiley, wiggly, curious little being happy to be held. Happy to be fed. Satisfied enough to fall sound asleep......... those heavy eyes opening and closing until they settled into a nap.
Last week and every week I too am held. Big strong arms wrapped around me. Loved. There is no other feeling that generates a sense of security as someone holding you in their arms. Sharing a moment when words sift into the ground beneath us. I've come to the conclusion that if there is ever a moment when time takes a breath, it is when we are in the arms of another.......... when we have our arms wrapped around another human. Time remains in the present and forgets to creep forward.
The other night, my son crawled into my bed. Snuggled under the covers, he settled in to watch TV. He looked so content........... so comfortable, and I kind of wondered if taking over my bed, the duvet up to his neck full of my scents, head on my pillows that he felt my presence like a hug. One that he may have needed as reassurance that his Momma is going to be alright. He fell fast asleep.......... like a little boy again. I kissed him as he dreamt. Secure. Safe. Relaxed. All is well.
On Sunday, I drove 2 hours to Sackville to pick up my daughter and her friend. It will be a familiar drive beginning in January because that's where she will be living and attending university. I offered to pick them up this weekend because I wanted the time in the car with her........... conversations always flow more sanguinely. But, I selfishly wanted to drive on my own, free of duties and drama....... liberated on the highway listening to my music. A little landscape adventure accompanied by Paul Simon. Have you heard his latest CD? It's gorgeous. Layered and full of sounds and thought provoking words about God and gratitude. Toe tapping too. He's a genius.
Before I hit the road, I attended the church service at St. Paul's United. I'm now a member, switching from the church I attended years and years ago in another province. It felt right. It was time.
I always sit in the same spot. Near the front. On the right. I like that vantage point. Morning light filters through the deep coloured stained glass.......... through a Bible story. Coloured rays touch upon the front of the church like a wand of miracles. Gentle beauty. Sometimes it touches upon the head of a baby being baptised and on the arms of the Minister holding the baby. Kissed by the spirit of light.
Sunday's service, as always, was thought and feeling provoking. There is always something that touches the chord.... that one we often lose. It brings it back to life again for another week. But, this service was special because it plucked that chord over and over again. Turned it into a heart-hymn that continues to radiate as well as to calm my inside fears. The message, based on a story from the Bible was of being prepared because you just never know........ the future is unseen. The prayer, written and spoken so beautifully by a dear friend........ was about remembering our ancestors.... our veterans..... and learning from their valiant efforts. We live a blessed life.
Tucked into the middle of the service was a very moving rendition of "In Flanders Fields" followed by the strong resonating call of the Last Post. Is there another piece of music that can bring to attention our collective thoughts of the fallen? While we stood deep in thought-full remembrance in the silence after, I heard the sound of wind. Winter wind. A little rush sound high up in the peak of the church. I have no idea if anyone else heard it. I did.
My thoughts automatically shifted to pictures in my head of young men, shivering, wet, lost in trenches away from home, fighting in fear. I tried to conjure up what it must've been like to live, eat, breathe, suffer, fight amongst their comrades during the bitter winter months. For our freedom. For our future. Courage. Resilience. Hope. Optimism. Determination. Belief in what they were fighting for.
That one errant wind sound brought a spirit of insight. It offered the gift of reverence. It allowed little me to go deeper in time. It left me wondering. It left me feeling holy grateful. It also put some perspective into my fears and thinking about my own journey this week. Was I the only one that heard it? Spirit wind.
Life is an uncertain. If we can get our heads around that, we're doing well. So often we try to hold onto reasons and rationalizations. We soak in our own dramas forgetting that others have experienced far worse and have come out of it with new eyes, and perhaps some emotional weariness. It is the burdensome weariness which we humans needs to pay attention to......... if we can lighten the load of others, we bring the Word of God alive. Our actions make them matter. Faith is an action word.
Tomorrow, Wednesday November 9th at 10 am, I am having that surgery to get rid of the breast cancer. I take in with me calm, and the embrace of many.... those strong arms that hold me. Love. Radiant strength. Don't know about the future. Can't know. That's the scary part. But, what I do know is that it is the story unfolding that is life..... not skipping to the end to see what happens.
Time to love bomb that cancer. Let the sun shine. Let the stars sparkle. Let that moon burst into a full one. Let faith be the strength and love be the healer................ and may relief feel like a sleeping son wrapped in his Momma's blankets.
I'm ready. Just gotta do a few load of laundry first............!