The Storm and the Stream

Life goes by.  Inalterably, unchangeably, as if we have no words to describe or defy it.

Some days it goes by as a storm, tempestuous, depressing, assaulting our senses and thinking.  Overwhelming us, stepping back as if only to make we are fully awake for the next onslaught.

Some days (hours, minutes, take whatever it offers) it flows by as an idyllic stream.  Dazzling with light in the sun, the grass and surrounding trees alternating in green, fallish colors and snow; it takes away your breath.  Quiets your soul.  Whispers hope into your spirit.

But it goes by.  The Psalmist said, “as if the mist on the lake is burned away by the noonday sun.”  It is never not going by.  So live it.  Wade out into it.  Swim when you must.  Bask for the minutes afforded; and if anyone should ask, say, “I am profoundly grateful.  Ever thankful for the ride.”  Even in the storm.

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