This morning the water in the canal outside my office window is dead still. There’s no breeze playfully distorting its calm. No boat has come by yet, leaving a “V” of rippling water behind.
All is well in canal land.
Then there’s my life.
Here too, all is well this early in the morning. Except I’ve already walked through the sprinklers — may be a harbinger of what’s to come. Or not.
But right now, I have peace, I have calm. The day could unfold in the same way, or it could bring a tsunami of events to shatter my peace.
I allow myself to reminisce — those times when my life was upended by one or the other event or person. There were the “good” upsets, like meeting my husband. There were the nasty upsets: police knocking at my door to tell me my daughter had been killed.
Ah yes, I can go further and further back to find the yin yang of life
But each wrinkle in my timeline taught me something. Brought something new to my life. From my marriage came love, acceptance, forgiveness, patience. My daughter’s death brought me to the fullness of my faith. And merging with my husband into one single unit of love and hope in the future.
I think of the sailboats of old. They dreaded becalmed seas. No, they needed the wind and the waves to move. Nothing came from hanging around.
But I’m old now. I don’t like upheaval and “Sturm und Drang.” I want to live out these last years peacefully with my husband of 40 years, my dogs that are aging, my garden, my piano, uninterrupted time with my Lord.
I don’t want yard signs and flags and newspaper headlines, TV and radio, lies and more lies and angry people.
I want life to be like that canal when there’s no wind, and no boat has passed as yet. I want becalmed seas.
I want peace.