There’s this wooden swing outside our sliding door. It’s where I meet with God. I step outside and take my place, slowly swing, sip my tea, listen to music and wait. This morning was the first time in weeks sitting on the swing because of how cold and rainy it’s been. But today was a milder cold, and the sun was out.
Jon Thurlow sang about entering the race again, birds were trilling a feverish pitch, squirrels like trapeze artists leapt onto high branches that swayed wide and wild and then they leapt again. The tree was enormous yet one I hadn’t observed before- it stood beyond with branches extending the entire length of our yard.
I didn’t pray or hear Him say anything but began to cry within minutes. It was as if He’d been waiting and then whispered, Hey, remember me? It was the noticing; it was the seeking and finding in the quiet; it was the taking of time to stop in the midst of a rolling list of to-do’s– of loading the dishwasher, wiping down the countertops, of putting away the folded laundry and finding my daughter’s drawers crammed with crumpled shirts and sweaters, of wondering if I should take a shower and how I can fit in a trip to Target to replenish a low supply of sparkling water and fruit gummies.
Those ten minutes uncluttered my mind and brought me back to myself. It filled me in a way nothing else can. A weight lifted and was replaced by a humming peace. When I came back inside, the music sang, “Your Presence is a place of peace. I can rest here with You.” My place of peace is a wooden swing that looks out at a grove of giant trees; it is a cup of tea and songs and sounds of wonder.
mijin kang 
Beautiful ❤️