His Hands

There is a certain feel when it comes to being up early and not having to rush to do anything. No work must be performed. No thoughts of what I have to do within the day ahead. Nothing to do but listen to the rain on the tin roof along the back partial of our home as the birds sing, enjoying their free bath. Nothing to do but relax and enjoy the peace.

There’s no movement here. My kids are at their grandparents. My wife is at work. If I listen, very carefully, the stillness has its own quiet ring.

Everything is calm.

There is so much to enjoy within these limited times, and so much to be learned. It is within these short moments that I embrace a deeper appreciation for the gifts of God.

How often I am distracted by the things of the world. My mind has been a scattered mess of anxious thoughts, depression had ruled the majority of my life and the self-loathing was a practice that had me far from a place of peace. The sound of rain on a tin roof would never have been a thing that I found to be peaceful. There was nothing but the constant suffering from the uncontrolled psychological maladies I was preoccupied with. There was never time for the rain.

It is a good feeling to live in the now. Now, I can clear the clutter and acknowledge the calm. I can slow the breathing and see that there is really so much to be thankful for. I can see the joy within my life. I can witness the blessings. It is within these moments that I truly know a small part of God: His peace. All of these little things of His creation that come together to reveal a moment of gentle silence in a very loud world.

A small glimpse of what heaven may be like?

There is so much that I used to miss within the tragedies of my own making. There was a constant practice of staying within the habitual. I had to move on. I had to do things differently.

Praise God for His guiding hand. Praise the Lord for His peace. I thank Him each day for directing the path. I seek Him throughout every moment, even when I am caught up within those moments of old habits of psychological affliction.

He guides me through.

The rain has stopped and the birds are shaking the rain away. I’ll rest within the peace of the cleanse.

 

 

One thought on “His Hands

  1. Well said Damon. Everyone needs a place of quiet peacefulness. Mine is our screen porch. The birds flock to the yard in front and raise the bar on my worship. I am only disrupted by wildlife (birds, deer, rabbits and an occasional bear).
    Great end line: “I’ll rest within the peace of the cleanse.”

    Liked by 1 person

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