“Deep calls unto deep . . .”
Psalm 42:7 (NKJV)
It’s half past four and finally calm. I woke first, from a dream, an hour ago and tried to go back to sleep. I think I even caught a few minutes of slumber–before Maya, the guard Yorkie, started barking at the sound of the bedroom door moving in the slight wind coming in through the open window. So I give up on sleep and begin the day.
The morning sky is a changing palette of reds. I think of that rhyme–red sky in morning, sailors take warning–and wonder if it signals the dawn of another unsettled day.
Unsettled weather-wise and unsettled Linda-wise. My mind awhirl, even as I rise, with thoughts and questions and a longing to go deeper. It’s a season of change, and although it doesn’t look like it on the outside there is a stirring happening inside.
I think of the wind that’s been blowing the past few days and how, though it was calm just a few minutes earlier, I can now see the tops of the cedars outside my window swaying in the breeze. They’re a picture of what I’ve been feeling inside.
Deep calls unto deep.
It’s a season of wind. Not a wind so strong that it shifts sands and changes landscapes, but a wind that causes me to pay attention. To go deeper. To listen for the sound of that still small voice, to seek after that voice, to lay some things down, to pick others up. To pray.
Heavy thoughts first thing in the morning and as I look outside I see the sky is no longer red and wonder if I will find what I’m looking for today. Knowing that, whether I find a measure of satisfaction or end this day with the same longing I wake with, I will keep pursuing. Going deeper and deeper.
I hope your reds turn to rose, and your swaying branches to calm.