Maybe it was the way the sun was shining this particular day, many months ago,
trying to peek through the blanket wrapped sky.
Maybe it was how I remembered the horses that were once there,
in their winter jackets, grazing in the field.
Maybe it was the old wooden planked barn that
surely had stories to tell.
I had driven by the farm twice,
but something was there for me so I dug out my camera and made a u-ie.
As I ran my hand along the rusted iron gate,
unevenly latched
yet shut and abandoned;
I could hear it
and I knew why I had come back.
It was one of those moments I’ve come to love~
God shows up with a simple picture that speaks volumes to my heart.
A wide open field with a small rickety country gate that whispered,
this is protected space.
I knew what He meant.
I think writing will always be a part of who I am,
words for me are more then letters snuggled together on a page.
Words feel like the wide open sky offering both sun and shade;
a gift to the old wooden barn
who has a story worth remembering.
So while writing never left me personally,
I temporarily shut the gate here.
Fast forward ten months:
while running the other day I began pressing the Lord about blogging
Should I write again? and actually hit “publish”?
I’ve missed almost a year of journaling which was mainly for my kids,
and what about the gate?
As I finished my run, still listening to my iPod,
my soul felt the open space of our hay field like never before.
The breeze rushed through my hair, circled around me and
filled my questions.
And I knew.
There’s a place, a place I’ve found…
A protected space.
A sacred place.
Here is the song from that day, it is amazing!
Maybe it will help all this make sense…
(p.s.- and a special thank you to my little sneaky photographer Andre who saw me in the field and thought something was up! sure enough!)
