Recently, I had an email exchange with a friend about things that bother, gnaw at, weaken, or paralyze us. You know the things I mean -- the ones that begin to loom large in our minds, worries we can't seem to banish. Or, the habitual sins ... those things from which we try to flee, but seem only able to inch away, slowly and painfully, and only a bit at a time.
All of these things were on my mind when I went to bed that night. I woke up about 4 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep. The windows were open, and I felt very hot and sticky.
And as I lay there, all those things -- the worries that gnaw at me, the sadnesses that sometimes permeate life -- seemed overwhelming. And, just as some tears welled up in my eyes, an unexpectedly cool breeze blew in through the window ... over me, around me, through me. It was lusciously sweet, and welcome relief from the heat.
And, I thought of how God's hand in my life is like that ... just when I begin to think that I can't take whatever cross or sacrifice He's asking of me now, just when I think it's too much, just when I begin to cry, He sends a cool breeze. Deceptively simple, at times: an unexpected note from a friend, a prayer I've stumbled on, sublime moments spent in Adoration, provision from a surprising source, a small kindness bestowed ... These breezes blow over and around and through me, and remind me that He is there, that He is everything. That He is, really, the only thing.
And, after I've been refreshed, I know that I can go on. I can and will assent to whatever He wants, whatever He allows, whatever He sends.
He is, and will always be, the cool, sweet breeze that sustains me.