Colors of Quiet

When the Hubs walks in from the yard and takes my hand with a gentle, "Come on. I've got to show you something." And I see our blue beach chairs nestled in the grass facing a stunning pink-cloud sky. Then he waxes a bit about life and sunsets and holds my hand as we watch the slow parade.

It's all perfect, but for my buzzing mind that won't be still.

So even as the show and his hand beckon me to quiet places, I'm taking in the hedge that needs hedging and the neighbors old maple branches hanging in precarious need of pruning...

And inside I feel the tug of anxiousness, weights far beyond my yard of hedges and trees, and find myself misty-eyed at the irony that he who once was prone to worry sits peacefully beside me taking in God's majesty while my eyes are clouded by cares.

Yet, even as I write, the waves of coral pink upon true blue linger like a Polaroid. Memory fading in to clarity. The soft call of a heart, "Come sit beside me while our God paints the sky."

Selah...

Though my mind wrestled quiet this night, my hand found safety in his. Tenderness displayed. A touch of heaven.

The One who whispers the waning colors will prevail.

Peace awaits and I am thankful.