Not even the tops of the trees are moving this morning; it is an uncommon stillness on this eastern edge of the Great Plains. Go west from here and you soon see trees leaning to the northeast, shaped by the constant push of the wind. But for this moment, there is no wind, no bending of branches, no stirring of cool morning air.
Hummingbirds dispute acquisition rights to one of our feeders while a bumblebee buries itself into one of the lavender blooms on the Rose of Sharon growing by the porch door. Others busy themselves on the bee balm and butterfly bushes. A new burst of rose blooms, beaded with dew, frames the lower edge of the view from my lounge chair.
There is such peace in this moment, such welcome calm when it seems that all I can see is as it should be. Everything in its place, doing what it is intended to do, giving and receiving. It is such within me when I yield to the work of God and release all claim to things being as I think they should be. I find this calm when I trust that he will one day accomplish all that he intends to accomplish.
I sometimes struggle to release myself from my own plans and believe that he has included me in his. Beyond that struggle lies the place where peace passes understanding and where I can live the abundant life.