New Day Dawning

 

 

 

I went for a short run this morning and when I pulled in the driveway, this is what I saw.  All I have been thinking of since is this song that we hear at the beach.  "There's a New Day Dawning"  We attend church service at the beach down on the gulf when we're there.  Years lapse and they sing the same song when we return.  "There's a New Day Dawning"  This past year, it rained and rained during the service.  The kids' service was held in the back of a small trailer on wheels.  We ducked as we stepped in to talk to the preacher's wife.  She was cleaning up from the service (I'll admit we sat in the van for most of the service and really couldn't hear much of anything). We met her years ago when G was 3.  She told G as we stepped in out of the wetness, "You're special.  God is going to do great things with your life."  I laughed as I talked to her about our first experience at the beach service.  G threw a terrible tantrum, screamed "I WANNA THEE JETHUTH" (I wanna see Jesus) as we tore her away from the service and forced her into the car.  Before we got that far though, G flipped a rubber band and it hit said pastor's wife right square in the eye.  It hurt.  I could tell.  She acted kind of aggravated.  When I told her of our memory of the service...she didn't say she did or did NOT recall it...she just said what I mentioned above..."God is going to do great things with your life."  I wonder if she realized this before or after the rubber band episode.  No matter.  She spoke the truth.  This momma knows it!  

Falling

Fall runs at us with open arms.  It's warm once we embrace, but cold at first as it blows by us, through us, over us, around us.  It's beautifully colorful.  The leaves crack, crunch, split apart beneath our feet.  Alarm clocks ring, schools bells ding, church bells sing.  Children rush, teachers hush, parents push.  Bright white papers fill up line by line by line.  Brains fill up hour by hour.  New concepts are taught, many in the books, but most, after the book closes.  And we pray.  We pray.  We see prayers answered.  We wrestle with, grapple with, laugh with, hug on each other.  People scurry and hurry.  We try to grab them but they're a mist.  People linger longer.  We pause for them but maybe not long enough.  We plan and plan a span of time.  We think we can.  Fall pulls us in, offers us warm light to warm our hearts.  We bask in the faint glow, we wrap up in it.  And we fall.  We fall for it.  All of it.  And it's a whirlwind.  And we love it.  And it's a lullaby.  And dusky peaceful quietness falls as we fall to our knees.