We were sitting outside for our church service last week and Elliot was rummaging in the yard
(Typically, he makes it thru worship then we play outside during sermon hour)
He was running, full force, towards the grassy knoll surrounded by mountain glory…
Then he stopped.
Right in his tracks, he stopped.
It took me a second to notice what had stopped him.
His gaze was fixed on the trees.
There was a forceful wind blowing thru the yard…
Encircling and swirling the branches right before his eyes.
That was it.
The wind left him breathless.
He cannot quite figure it out yet, the wind, that is.
He cannot fathom the arrival and disappearance of this invisible, silent, yet resilient force.
The wind is silent yet it deafens Elliot and all his energy with its power.
A deafening silence as that stream of air blusters and twists and coils all the majestic trees around.
Elliot loves it and is mesmerized at it.
He beholds it with such wonder.
And he always waits until it passes to keep on his path.
I just watch him and I watch that silent force and I am thankful.
I am again reminded of His majestic hand that creates such glory.
And I wonder how often I just pummel through the gusts of glory that come throughout my days.
I pummel through them, so very empty of gracefulness and any notion of tact
I walk right thru those gusts of glory because there are things to do and I just do not have time to stop and behold.
But what if I did?
What if I did take the time to stop in my tracks and watch the invisible force and the way it coils through oaks and pines of glory all around.
Perhaps my things to do would be done with more grace and more glory.
So I ask to be taken back to have the faith of a child…to feel and see and pause for those gusts of glory.
*thankful to have sights like this all summer long. Because, remember we fled to the mountains?