The Beauty of the Wind
By Rita Davidson
It’s been one year since our fire July 19, 2013 that took everything we had. A swift, wind fed the fire that leveled 29 years of memories and heirlooms in 10 minutes.
There is a violence in nature that can leave one speechless. Like tornadoes that level an area in minutes, or the tsunami’s so grand yet heartbreakingly as they flood the land, and then clear it by pulling it all out to sea.
There has been a longing in my heart since the fire. A longing for beauty. I think it’s always been there. A striving to a-right ourselves after such a devastation, blackness fills my mind. The sheer amount of what needs to be done overwhelms the emotions at times. I look back and see all we have accomplished in one year and it amazes even me.
Our lives felt so fragile at first, like we were just hanging in the balance. Things were so out of our control, it was like being washed out to sea, and just riding the waves. The tiny beauty of a leaf would make me cry, or the sweet laughter of Liam would make me cry. But I craved those little touches of beauty that made life sweet again.
In “Behold the Lamb” Marie St. Ellerker writes, “We depend entirely on this great, good God who is our Creator. Because He has made us He has the right to everything we have and everything we are: He has a right to the life He has given us.”
Who were we to ask why? Who were we to doubt what God had taken away was for our good? But the agony in the soul is not quenched. The pain arises from memories. You do all you can to push down the tears, after all it’s been long enough you tell yourself, but the pain still spills over.
Lest everyone think I am always happy.
My soul continues to ache for something it does not know. A beauty beyond the obvious, a home. I remember the first time I felt this was last December. Still with no home, we were doing a lot of driving back and forth. Then moving from cabin to motel. Driving in the dark, you could see the glowing lights from other homes. People sitting down to eat, or people talking in their homes. We would get this glimpse of them going past and our hearts would ache. A place we once belonged, a home, something we once knew is gone. Would we ever find a home again?
This came to the forefront again this past week, as we realized we do not have enough money to rebuild. It now looks like we may have to move. Again that ache rises up. Where is home? Liam says it so perfectly, still everyday, “Mama, I wanna go home.” This started the day after the fire. We didn’t know what he meant as ‘home’ was gone. Now we know what he means. It’s a collective ache for all of us.
What does home look like? My mind wanders as I look over real estate pages…Green fields swaying in the sun, sunrises releasing fog on an early morning, the glistening dew on boards of an old barn, the smell of old hay in a dusty barn. There is a beauty in home, that I miss. Sadness fills my heart. Where would you have us go God ? God is silent.
Then I remember the wind.
I look out and see the wind rustling through the leaves. As if it is calling out to me. The beauty of the leaves move, as if an invisible Hand is moving through them. Is it Him? Could it be?
Oh yes…Do you not see Him? He is there on the wind…the subtle breezes through the trees remind me of Him… You close your eyes and listen to that still voice. It has no words, but you can feel His presence there. You bask in the glow of that joy, and time disappears for a moment. Then in an instant it is gone. You almost cry out with the departure. Could it have really been Him?
Nature calls out to its Creator. Its very actions built into its DNA it worships the God that made it. The growth of the Maple Tree, the sprouting bean plant, or the cool breezes after a rainfall. They all pay homage to their Creator by doing, what by nature, they are meant to do. It was this same wind that burned up our house, the same wind that blows invisibly through the trees. God giveth and He taketh away.
That is why we can always look to nature and find God. Just like I found Him in the gentle breezes. That is the beauty I crave. That delicate balance of longing for heaven, and wanting an earthly home to call our own. He is my Hope that carries me through each day.
Where will we go now, O Lord? I do not know. But for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. So I wait…God’s time is not our time. But I do know that God has a plan for us. A plan for you! A perfect plan that we cannot see. But at the right time, at the right place, He will set it into motion for all of us to see. Patience, patience He teaches us, His children. For now…I wait for His beauty on the wind…and I will go where His LOVE leads me.
Are you waiting for God right now ? Where do you find God? What beauty are you craving right now?
What is beauty to you?
Copyright 2014 Rita Davidson All Rights Reserved.
Rita is a Catholic wife, and mother of seven, with three autistic boys. Currently a writer, & published author, she is a former hairdresser, professional make up artist with a degree in Natural Health. She is now a Young Living Distributor. After overcoming a stroke, disabilities, and more, they recently lost everything in a devastating house fire that made them homeless for six months. She is determined to lead souls back to Christ by carrying their crosses with Joy!