Refreshing

 Good morning!

It's a quiet Friday morning here. There is some traffic on Broadway, but not much and it's pretty quiet. A few birds chirp, a cicada sings, and a faint breeze stirs the curtains. It's 61º right now though it is supposed to get into the low 80s today. Time to savor the quiet and calm. Have you ever wished you could bottle up the quiet of early morning so you could pull it out in the middle of a crazy day? I don't know where that thought came from, but it sounds nice. ;)

This week has not been a writing week. However, I did get my proof copies ordered of "Lake Wood," "What Tommy Didn't Know," and "Saving Miss Christmas." And if you are wondering, the last book is the title of this year's Christmas Collection. And the middle title is a New Years story. I posted it before, but added a new ending to it. :)

I've also been really working on updating my website! It needed it! So far I have the bookshelf updated, and all the pages with one book. I even added all 4 Woodbreak books. Yes, "Lake Wood" has a page now! I haven't gotten to the Short Stories page, the Christmas pages, or created a new Pocket book page. But I've made progress. You can check them out on Read Another Page.

Yesterday I got a phone call asking if I could start work next week instead of on the 6th of October. The County Clerk's office is crazy. People are coming in waves, the phones keep ringing, and the filing is stacking up way too high. So, I'll be going in for 4 hours each day next week Mon-Thurs.

Today's story is one I wrote and first published many years ago in 2011. There is so much going on right now with everything that I thought we could all use a reminder of who is in control.

 

Refreshing

    It was quite chilly when I crawled out of my sleeping bag and, unzipping my tent door, stepped out into the crisp morning. Everything was quiet and still. The brown grass at my feet crunched with each footstep. Stately, old pine trees stood guard on the bit of land which juts out into the aqua and teal lake where scarcely a ripple disturbs its placid face. Across from my camping site, on the other side of the lake, march row upon row of trees, up the mountainside, until the snow-covered cliffs halt most of them.
    I gave a sigh of contentment. This was the first time I had gotten to be alone for more than fifteen minutes since the whirl of things began. I don’t know when the whirl started exactly, it just seemed to creep up and then I was in the midst of it all. Now at last maybe I can get some much needed rest, to try to sort things out, to understand, to consider, to decide. Out here alone I hope to be able to find the peace and joy I had. Alone? No, not really. My Heavenly Father is here and that is all I need. It was His hand that guided through all: weddings and funerals, births and deaths, over-work and no work at all, excitement of courtships and heartache of breakups, tornadoes and earthquakes, political unrest and political victories; all combined to frazzle a mind already bewildered with the many decisions of everyday life.
    I think I’ll just sit here today by my campfire and let the quietude of the mountains and water calm my feelings as I read the dearest book in the world. How can I help but grow refreshed when the Author of each word and thought is my Lover and Friend, my Father, my Savior, my Jesus? If I knew Him not, I would surely be the most miserable of all persons.
    Some people thought my coming away into this wilderness alone was just a way of trying to escape from everything and hide. They were somewhat right. I am hiding from everything. But not as they think. My Hiding Place is the Rock in a weary land, the Shelter in storms, a Tower, a Shield, a Refuge. No, I don’t expect everything to be perfect when I return, but it will be okay.
    The sun on those snow covered peaks is glorious! The birds are singing above me, and I hear a squirrel chattering somewhere. Maybe I’ll go sit on that rock in the sun. No worries, no cares, no thought for tomorrow. Isn’t that how life is supposed to be? I can echo the psalmist when he penned the words, “Oh that I had wings like a dove, then would I fly away and be at rest.” But it wouldn’t be the same rest which the Shepherd gives to His sheep. On the whole, I am glad, thankful even, that I have a heart which can feel pain and joy, love and sorrow, and my Savior’s matchless, boundless, endless mercy, grace and love!

    My days alone here are ended. I’m going back to be ”in the world but not of it.” Peace and rest fill me as I go with my All-In-All.
 

Would you like some bottled up peace and quiet?
Did you go check out the Woodbreak pages?
Would you like to go camping?