I want to rest. I want to breathe quietly again.~Tennessee Williams
I pulled my ball cap snugly over my head and slipped headphones over my ears. A walk listening to classical music during the autumnal weather would do my frayed emotions good. Anxiety loomed with Covid blasting through the world. Politics splintering the country. Our house for sale. The guy who made an offer wanted to cut down all the mature trees in the front yard. The trees felt like the last straw. How I loved those trees. They were like friends.
I heard leaves crunching underneath my shoes as I walked. Hundreds of acorns lay piled along the side of the road. I carried a mug of hazelnut coffee that warmed my hands. I breathed deeply, exhaling the angst. In the coolness of the morning I let go and lifted my face to the light.
When I reached the tidal creek, the environment did not disappoint me. There was no one there. I peeked through the Spanish Moss of the ancient oak (another friend) and watched the hawk who oftern sat perched high atop another tree, preening itself. The bird spread its wings, stretching, then settled down to gaze across the flowing, sun-dappled waters. I lifted my arms and stretched too. Then I looked up into the sky. Arctic white clouds scudded along, transfixing me with their elegant pace. As I watched them glide by, I began to feel at rest. I sensed that I'd stepped into the safety of God's shelter. I could metabolize my dysregulated emotions by reviewing His promises. God could be counted on to never leave, never forsake, never lie. He would always keep His promises, His presence assured, His faithfulness intact. I could lean into these truths and keep practicing peace and rest. The bright movement of the clouds was a symbol that I could remain in the arc of His rhythm for my life without anxiety, without timidity. Breathing quietly. My heart full and protected inside His affection.