Still I trust you (a five minute post)

Lisa-Jo says, it's Friday! And on Fridays we all write, our words free, five minutes of paintings pictures and laughing and celebrating writing, without worries or edits. Won't you come join us, and let your words be free, too? This week the prompt is still. 


The water ripples at the touch of the duck feet and their furious paddling. They form a V to match their distant cousins who soon will take to the skies, crying their loud homeward cries and veering towards home. I sit still, my hands cupped around my phone, my feet in their new shoes dangling in front of me.

And I look at the harbor glimmering and the small shadow of me, and I think... Do you remember me? The question ripples like the ducks on the water and dips into my stomach and I tell Hannah, that in the end I ask Him, look Him in the face of this world - the cup of gelato dripping onto my hand and the sun's heavy hand on my skin and the people who color my life beautiful and rare, who tell me in their own way that to be still, and to still be still after all the silence seems full of nothing, is the only way forward.

And when I stand there in my dress and my new shoes and small shadow, and the bucket full of questions my heart keeps lugging around, I hear the reminder to be still, and be of good courage.

Because I still want nothing but to find Him. I still trust that this is all goodness, the mystery of provision and manna, the wonder of waiting. I still believe in Him though my questions roll on like storms and my eyes strain the horizon and my heart skips. I still go back, scraping up the slippery side of the mountain like the son, veering home like geese on the wing, like the ducks in the harbor back to their nest.

I still come home to Him. 


Love,
Hilary