Tuesday, January 7, 2014

It happened a few years ago. 

"I want to show you the most beautiful place. Can you come with me now?"

Whenever I hear his voice etched in this tone, I know that whatever I am doing  is not as important as what we are about to do. 

"Let's go," I say.

He takes me to a remote place that he found while hunting. He holds my hand and we ease our way to the edge of the most beautiful bluff. We stand above a babbling brook which is bursting with song. Our silence speaks of awe, as holy hush falls on us. We remain like statues for the longest time.

"Let's go around and come in from the other side," he says, "the low ground."

I follow. The bramble is tight. His hand is firm upon mine. He turns with his finger to his lips. We pause.

A massive papa deer stands before us. We dare not move til he takes flight.

We finally reach the edge of the singing stream. He sits on the ground and pulls me down on his knee. We do not say a single word forever. I finally dare to break the silence, "It is so holy here. We should pray." 

"You first," he always says.

I begin to pray, not asking for one thing, as I cannot remember one single need at moment. Praise spills from my lips, it pours and pours and pours. We never shut our eyes, we can't afford to miss a minute of glory. Tears stream down both our faces. I gaze into his speechless face.

It is so holy, we cannot speak. Breathtaking blanket of holy.Our Father is here with us, we feel Him, we are not alone.

Our first trip to this place was in spring. "Please take me again, I want to see it dressed in winter attire," I say. We load up and return to the middle of nowhere. 

The  brook sings, but with new and muffled sounds. Ice muffles the tones of spring, creating a beautiful winter song. 

"We could ask the owner if he would sell this place," he says. Dreams begin with such thoughts. We sketch imaginary walls in our minds. "We could build a log cabin. You could come here to write." We know all the while that it will never be, but neither of us add a negative punch to the billows that we create. We love to dream together. 

Our secret place is there and we are here. Our dreams of it remain only in memory. 

The time we spent in that place was so brief. Moments. It was one of our most wonderful times ever. I just had to write it down. Thank you for listening to my story. 

May you have a day full of beauty!

1 comment:

Thoughts for the day said...

That is beautiful. thank you