Too many people have forgotten the art of sitting. One of my favorite things is sitting on the porch (nearly any porch), feeling the breeze caress my face, watching the birds flutter about, enjoying the trees as they dance lazily with the wind. The crow caws, the bluebird catches a bug to feed his babies, and I breathe.
I’ve stopped (or have mostly tried to stop) judging these moments as lazy and as wasted time. Sure, outwardly it doesn’t look like much, but it’s an exercise. I’m strengthening and exercising my gratitude. With every ping of the windchime, a chord in my heart sings “thank you.” Enjoying creation, these moments are visits with God. A silent exchange between Father and daughter. A subtle reminder that life is good and I am not forgotten.
In this day of busy, fast-paced, on-to-the-next-thing, rushing, few remember how to sit. They are antsy; their phones beckon; the tv calls. But this, this is where my joy lives. Rocking or swinging, all alone, in the presence of The Lord.