I stepped outside, the feel of change in the air, only slight.
Rain for several days, so much that I'd go from one place to another unconcerned over umbrella and my hair sort of wilted.
But, I stood for a bit, listening and heard faintly only one bird or two. I wondered where they'd gone. I wish I'd been coming out to listen more, my days taken up by other than quiet.
I stood and allowed my mind to empty.
Had a morning talk with me.
If you think about the times whatever "it" was came through, came to be, happened when least expected, you'd understand more the wait.
lost jewelry found
the voice you so long to hear, try hard to hide the excitement in your hello
the lifting up your feet, the lightness in your step, floating more, dragging less
love light that faded surprising you sweet and strong
finding what you're looking for once you stop searching, you'd surrendered
But, you may step out into the wide open and try to grasp the day, grab hold of some sense of deep peace and wait to feel its embrace. No one around, you might close your eyes and tilt your face up towards the morning and breathe deeply a slow and seeking prayer.
You may open your eyes, expectantly to see or sense the intervention you've conjured and so, you wonder where the moments may have gone, to return back to you void.
You might turn to go back in your house, groaning in your acceptance of the same, prepare yourself for day and duty and begin to understand.
You've tried to make it happen.
Tried to manufacture hope, attempting to do things, pushing, looking, straining ears and eyes and heart and soul.
Your striving made you weary and you remembered then how it happens, how it happened before.
So, you say "yes."
Yes, I know. I remember.
The light came in, the rescue came through, the sweet things no longer delayed.
They came on their own.
On time, and maybe on purpose, to surprise me by surprise.
"…At the right time, I, the Lord, will make it happen.”
Isaiah 60:22 NLT