Wednesday, September 24, 2014
By Micky Wolf
My beloved and I recently returned from a week’s vacation.
The coast of Maine.
There’s something about the ocean that takes away my breath.
Maybe it is because it is so big.
Maybe it is because the horizon seems to go on forever.
Maybe it is the scent and taste of the salty sea spray on the lips.
Maybe it is the never-ending pulse and rhythm of crystal blue-green crispy cool waves crashing onto the cream-colored sand.
Maybe it is the wispy pieces of early morning fog lingering over the masts of nearby sailboats.
Maybe it is the forlorn call of one gull to another.
Maybe it is the sparkling facets of ever moving droplets dancing in the brilliance of a fiery gold sunrise.
Maybe it is simply…an opportunity to be in the presence of God and His magnificent creation.
No need to know the why, what, where, when or how. Only the Who really seems to matter. And that will always be true, at the ocean or anywhere else. Maybe that is what we need to be alive to within our hearts, where ever we go, where ever we are.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
By Micky Wolf
The day was sultry, the sun bright and intense. I wasn’t rushing about, but intentionally working my way through a small to do list.
Approaching the main entrance to the church, the slow-moving figure of a woman emerged from the building. Leaning on her walker, it was clear she had long ago learned how to use her wheeled helper with grace and precision to open doors, without being hindered in the process.
Yes, I’m one of those folks who will usually offer a greeting or a smile to passers-by or while waiting in line, whether I know them or not.
However, almost before I could open my mouth she glanced in my direction, moving closer to the handicap accessible ramp section of the cement curb.
“Morning,” she said, a big smile crossing her face.
“Good morning to you!” I responded. “Sure is a hot one today, eh?”
“Oh my, yes, for sure.” She had some of the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, laugh lines squiggled at the corners. Neatly styled short, straight, white wisps of hair framed her face.
“Some people love this weather.” By now both of us had paused, a couple of feet apart. “Me, I prefer the seventies and low humidity.”
“Amen! Me too!”
Her smile broadened, if that was possible. An angel in disguise? Surely someone’s wife, mother, or grandmother. Maybe a sister or an aunt. It didn’t matter. In the midst of her focused effort to keep moving with a body that gave silent witness to the wear and tear of the years, she seemed oblivious to anything—but me.
“You have a wonderful day,” I said, oddly reluctant to move.
“And you too!”
Passing through the doors into the church I turned for another glance. She was gone. Vanished.
Not sure why this encounter has left a lasting impression. I can still see her face, her smile, the lovely white hair, the walker.
What I do know is there is no need for an explanation or answer.
What I do know is God often chooses to manifest His presence in the most unlikely ways, at the most unexpected times.
And that, fellow sojourner, is the way He would have it to be, for each of us, every day.