Soul Comfort
Evening sunset ~ photo by Susan Izard
Dear Soul Friends,
Last night the sun broke through the clouds just as my grandchildren were climbing out of the lake to come in for dinner. The quiet shimmering of light on the lake felt like a calm peaceful blessing. This morning as I sank into my chair on the dock staring at reflections of clouds on smooth still water, I felt wrapped by the same kind of calm. But just as I settled into the stillness of the morning, a sudden commotion on the lake drew my attention.
My eye caught a distant loon frantically flapping her wings in clear distress, urgently calling and making shallow dives in a desperate attempt to protect her chick. In awe, I watched as seven or eight other loons from remote parts of the lake began flying in and landing nearby to quickly encircle the mother and her chick with their protection. Suddenly a massive bald eagle swooped down and grabbed the baby loon with its talons carrying it away. The collective mourning calls of the loons filled the cove echoing the feeling I had within. The calm, centered stillness within my soul was rattled and heartbroken. Life can be intensely violent and hard.
As I sat trying to reclaim the stillness and calm from earlier in the morning, I remembered a line from a favorite family hymn, Dear Lord and Father of Mankind. Once my father told me it was his favorite hymn. The final words gave him comfort and hope during his long months of prison camp in Germany during World War II after he was captured during the Battle of the Bulge. The words continue to comfort me as well.
Speak through the earthquake wind and fire
O still small voice of calm.
Choosing inner calm and stillness is a choice, especially when faced with the pain that enters our lives. Inner calm and stillness are soul gifts. It is where we hear wisdom and guidance from the still small voice within.
As you travel through your week, may you find time to rest in the calm stillness of late summer and soak in the glory of knowing that you are loved.
Deep peace to you,
Susan
