Monday, March 17, 2025. 48.2*
Rain caresses our faces in the woolly dark this moonless morning. How quickly I’ve lost touch with darkness; have I missed her? Solar lights breathe a low glow. Perhaps there is less snow to reflect solar light, perhaps the rain has in the woolly dark been magically transforming snow into another thing or perhaps even vanishing.
Quiet in the house, quiet outside. My mind, not so quiet. I listen to music that goes nowhere, a sound with no melody, no words to distract me. I pay attention to my breathing as I did when I awoke suddenly at 3. No dream that I can recall, my heart was not racing, lips not parched as if I'd been running. Breathe...just...breathe.
If there was a path, I would walk with the rain caressing my face in the woolly dark. I would try to be brave. Breathe… just… breathe.
For God has not given us the spirit of fear,
but of power, and love, and self-control.
2 Timothy 1:7
Photo: LJ Austin
