“Speak to me, God,” I said, while driving through the countryside. I was on my way to a friend’s lake house, in search of the space that used to exist between my shoulders and my ears.
I spoke my request and then fell silent.
Almost instantaneously, the sweetgrass smell of farms and meadows, the heady perfume of country roads, wafted in my car windows.
A mile down the road, I passed Soulful Acres, a farm aptly named. It looked like a peaceful haven.
And just before I hit what passed for civilization in those parts, two wild turkey strutted regally through a small field to my left—a reminder that it is us humans who are the interlopers here on earth.
During an all-too-brief 24 hours together, I reveled in the laughter you only share with a true friend. I watched the positive, can-do attitude of two women who are facing more than their share of uncertainty in just about every area of life. And I realized I need to watch my thoughts, lest I be tempted to whine about my what-ifs.
As we parted ways, one was headed to finish cleaning the remnants of her former life out of her house before moving on to parts unknown. Somewhere in there sits a month in Majorca to try to sort it all out. The other was headed to her former home to take a few favorite plants and flowers to her new temporary digs. Both were energized and facing uncertainty head on. Both were solely in the moment.
As I drove home, I stopped by a country nursery brimming with flowers of every size and color—choosing a few to add beauty to my back-deck view. I had plenty of work awaiting me when I returned but the flowers seemed to take precedence.
And that’s when it hit me.
God had spoken to me for about 24 hours straight. Without saying a word.
And my shoulders had taken a much needed vacation from my ears.