A Still point

July 17, 2019

 It’s evening. The lights along the sidewalk are on, the lights along the edge of the driveway are starting to light up.  The air is very still - no movement among the leave of the trees.  Lightning bugs flicker here and there.

A time of transition.  That edge between now and later – what was and what is to come.

The still point.  A threshold.

And isn’t it like that every day? Dark to light at dawn – light to dark at days end.

Each day is – wait for it – a new beginning! A threshold for what is to come.

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And I hope. That the next day will be better than the last – and sometimes it is.

And if I’m honest – it is more often than not.  That’s not to say each day doesn’t have its challenges.  Empty time, nowhere to be, no responsibilities, except for Hunter (and he can fill my entire days agenda.)

But still – a threshold to something new  -  unexpected – surprising – delightful.

The song of a cardinal on the fence, lightening bugs flickering at dusk, even the chipmunk making wreaking havoc in my flower beds.   (Or someone is burring deep in the dirt).

The threshold – between now and later – between now and then, which if you stop to think about it – is very Lutheran – now and not yet.   Both/And.

The twixt and between.

But for tonight at least – a still point. Which is some traditions is where one meets God.  I‘m  not sure I’m ready for that – I’m still not sure where I am on this whole God thing…… but that’s for a different day….

For now – a still point. Period.