Quieting My Soul


In Hawaiian, ohana means family. This week, I got to enjoy ohana in Maui with our oldest daughter, her husband, and my 14-month-old grand baby. Sweet to be sure! We've taken in blue skies, sandy beaches, sunsets, rainbows, a petting zoo, under water sea life, sitting in the shade under the giant banyan tree, and great food. Lots and lots of food! Don's favorite has been Local Boys Shave Ice.


Well, I'm not sure that shave ice qualifies as food. But we've had it three times! My favorite has been the opportunity to just slow down and take in the beauty around me. The birds' songs, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, the sand in my toes, the breeze softly brushing the palm trees, so soothing and relaxing. For a moment, all my cares are gone. My word this year is QUIET. Maui has definitely nurtured that.


"I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me." (Psalm 131:2)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Adam's Tree

Image
Somehow, I mustered the courage to open the box and peek inside. Deep breath, Mary, you can do this. One by one, I unwrapped the ornaments from their tissue paper cocoons and hung them on the branches. Of course, the floodgates opened. Baby’s first Christmas – 1991, a baseball – 1997, computer wizard – 2005, red convertible – 2007, holiday camping tent – 2009. They are gifts from my mother-in-law, “Grandma Connie,” who bought each of the kids a yearly ornament until they reached adulthood. The eclectic collection used to hang on the family tree all together, but when the kids grew up, I separated them into their own boxes so they could take their treasures with them.   What should I do with Adam’s box of ornaments? I wondered. Val suggested I decorate a small tree with them, which seemed like a good idea. That is, until I opened the box. I’ve learned in my support group that we cannot go around the pain that is grief, or over it, or under it – we must go through it. Alan W
Read more

The Things We Pack

Image
I gazed out the window of our cruise ship cabin. Grey-blue waves seemed to stretch out infinitely over the horizon. We were 700 miles from San Francisco where we’d departed, headed for Hawaii. Tears welled up in my eyes, fogging up my glasses.  Why am I so sad? I should be enjoying this vacation, not pining away at this window.  But I couldn’t help it. The ocean view was just a visual reminder of the endless grief waves that keep crashing over me. Even though it’s been a little over eight months, they just keep coming.  Will they ever stop?  The grief books assure me they will eventually slow down. I sure hope so! Back in the fall, we planned the late-January vacation knowing that the holidays, followed by Adam’s birthday two weeks after Christmas, would likely leave us drained. We were right. As we packed the Sunday before, I asked Don, “Do you think there will ever be a day when we don’t think about losing him?” “We’ll never stop thinking about him,” Don said. “But
Read more

My One Word For 2016: Release

Image
A very sad thing happened to Rudolph on the way to Christmas dinner.  He lost one of his antlers on the freeway. "How can this be?" You ask. Well, it all started when my mother-in-law rolled down the window...well, actually, it started when I purchased a red nose and antlers for my KIA. Silly. Yes. But fun. And these days I'll take all the fun I can muster up. But my fun didn't last long, because when we picked up Don's mom on Christmas, she didn't know the rule about not rolling down the window. So, there I was, perched in the back seat balancing the scalloped potatoes and flowers and salad and such. In a split second - woosh! The antlers flew onto the freeway. Oops. Sorry about that.  I've been praying for the past couple weeks about what ONE word God wants me to focus on in the coming year. Last year my word was HOPE. I've been sensing that in 2016, He wants me to focus on the concept of RELEASE. Letting go. Setting free. Giving up. I think t
Read more