It is evening on the 30^th and I am preparing this for tomorrow mornings posting.

It rained early this morning, shortly after 6 am and the rain seemed to cut through and break the heat.  It left behind it the smell that only a rainfall can produce and there was a light breeze in the tree tops as I headed out for a walk and to find some breakfast.  There were clouds overhead but they seemed to be moving rather quickly through the skies and I couldn’t help but feel it would be a very good day.

I spent the day sitting in front of the river dozing off and on and reading a very small book “Can You Drink the Cup?”  By Henri J.M. Nouwen.  I went for another walk, had some light lunch, did some more reading and then actually lay down for an afternoon nap.

Something had opened up within me and I dare to say that I let go of something that I was probably clutching close to my heart (but as often happens I cannot tell you what it was – I know only that it happened and that I changed on the inside and the outside).  There was a new-found layer of peace that I sat with.  As it rained early in the morning I found myself crying as I watched and listened to it – while at the very same time rejoicing in the rain itself for it often brings new life even as it heals the old.

Was it the book?  No – although the book certainly spoke to me.  IT spoke the truth in such a wonderful way.  I can attest to the truth of it only because that is how it has been in my own experience and to read it on the pages written by a man who is known for how he loves.  That I would share with someone how it is to love and to drink the cup, to share it, to lift it and have both joy and sorrow mixed in the same wine. It has been a gift that I will want to go over again and again.

And so it is evening and I sit before the window looking out at the river.  I suppose I am still waiting for something but it is okay – it does not feel so dry, so alone.  I feel a little more one with the world and with the river that flows silently before me.  I leave tomorrow morning to return home to all the beautiful busyness that life offers, but I feel a little stronger, more able to meet it head on.  My strength seems to come from within, not myself, but from all that God gives me.  I am so grateful for these past days here with nothing to do but ‘be’.  Three days is not long, but it is enough.