It is 92 degrees on this second to
last day of September. Thunder rolls in the distance, while heat lightening
dances overhead. The air is so humid that the dog and I are sweating and
panting after the first few steps of our walk.
“Where are the cool, crisp days of autumn?” I lament.
Then I recall how just a few days ago at work I shivered in my white coat despite three layers underneath, and secretly prayed the office air conditioner would break. That day I longed to feel warm.
And in just a few months, when I go out for a walk in the snow, today’s weather will come to mind. I’ll wish for my sweaty T-shirt and shorts instead of my heavy boots and stuffy parka.
It is raining. Hard. The wind blows horizontal sheets of rain that bombard the window like plaques of pebbles. Thunder rattles the walls and the wind gusts through unseen cracks in the door jam. Lightening flashes across the sky, showcasing the trees as they bend and dance in the wind and lighting up the river that now streams down my driveway.
Ever
wonder if you heard God wrong and you’re supposed to be doing something
different? Periodically those thoughts tiptoe uninvited into my brain, and I
wrestle with what-if questions, too
Last week I met some very powerful and accomplished women at a conference. Jealousy crept in as I mulled over how old I am, questioned dreams I have yet to fulfill, and wondered about where I am in life. One of those powerful women happened to be with me at the time and my doubts spilled into our small group sharing.
“Maybe you’re exactly where your
supposed to be,” she said. “Maybe Satan is trying to discourage you because you’re
doing such a good job.” Her comment caught me off guard, and frankly, surprised
me. I rarely think about the devil and speak of him even less. I thanked her at
the end of our session and headed outside for time to consider her words.
What an interesting theory, I
reflected as I meandered onto a nature trail next to the conference center. As
usually happens when I am outdoors, my thoughts lightened. The sunshine warmed my
perspective and my face; the birds distracted me with their song, and the plants
and flowers perked my curiosity. Gradually I felt better and headed back for
the next meeting.
As I crossed onto a boardwalk over classic
North Carolina swampland, a dozen birds up ahead pranced on the path and squawked
loudly. I didn’t pay much attention, until the stick they were fussing over
raised its head and hissed. The snake was sill a good fifteen feet ahead of me,
but the wooden path was narrow and the swamp below squishy with mud.
