The last morning at the cottage this year

There isn’t a soul out on the water

Not a single boat or fisherman

It feels like I am utterly alone

Even the birds are hushed this morning

The only sound the wind

Blowing the leaves of the trees

My favorite sound on earth, I think

I went to bed thinking about loss

Praying once again for the lives lost in the Texas floods

Little girls in a campground

Such a terrible tragedy

My heart aches for those families

At the lake one or two people

Die each year from drowning I am told

We religiously wear our lifejackets

Never go down to the beach without a buddy

Small children never unattended here

Water can be so beautiful

And so very deadly at the same time

But what can  you do

When the flood waters rise

Too fast to escape?

You can’t always avoid drowning

Unless perhaps you choose to live in the desert

Which would be a sad place to live, I think

Risk the price we pay

For living alongside such beauty

This year I have come to terms

With my anxiety and worry

Fear of the unexpected

Wanting to be prepared

When bad things happen

Always asking

How could I have avoided this?

Sometimes the answer is that I could not have

You realize quickly

You simply cannot avoid all heartache

Control is not a gift we have been given

God alone yields that power

And sometimes heartache comes

Due to my own foolishness

God allowing me to feel

The consequences of my choices

The tears that fall this morning

Are tears of sadness and joy

Like the water, both beautiful and dangerous

Joy at having been here

The peace and quiet and beauty of this place

That steals my breath

And sadness we are leaving

I have lost some things this past year

Lost trust in people

Lost a sense of security and worth I once had

Sometimes working hard is not enough

But I also have gained

Gained an even deeper relationship with Jonathan

Gained a deeper sense of purpose

Gained thankfulness for the things I once took for granted

Gained understanding and empathy

A greater sense of God’s goodness

His presence with us through every difficulty

The last day at the cottage

As I reach the very last page in my once-new journal

I think about what I want to lose

And what I want to find

In the year ahead

I want to lose weight

Lose the fear and anxiety that paralyzes

Lose the worry which is a massive waste of time

Lose my addiction to sugar

My tendency to believe criticism and disbelieve praise

Lose my insecurity

My sometimes prayerlessness

I want to find motivation

Find time and space to exercise

Find a deep well of joy

That can’t be shaken by circumstance

I want to find moments like this

To quietly reflect

To sit in the stillness of the morning

And listen

I know it doesn’t take a dock and a lake to do that

But it does take time

All the things I want to lose

All the things I want to find

Require time

That most precious commodity

I can’t control all of the things that will happen

The new school year fast approaching

But I can be more intentional

About how I fill my time

I have learned the hard way

That you must leave 15% of space on your hard drives

Unused

Or else the entire drive will fail

Even computers do not survive without margin

I wonder if I, too, need 15% free

No coincidence that 15% is about one in seven days

Free of work and effort and demands

Free to paint, however poorly

To photograph nature

To make lanyards

To write

To listen

If I am to find those things I’m looking for

And lose some of those things I’d rather be without

This time next year

Lord, help me to see

To really see

Open my eyes to the eternal

Help me not waste another minute of my time

On fear and self-doubt

Help me find a joy in you

That can’t be shaken