The sweet and comforting aroma of apple cinnamon is filling my apartment as I sit quietly sipping my tea, waiting to switch out batches of muffins. Playing softly in the background is a gentle piano melody. It is as if time has stopped. I know this cannot be as the timer is slowly counting down the minutes until I must move again. So perhaps it is not time at all, but I who have paused.
As this perfect autumn perfume enfolds me, as gentle notes impersonate frolicking golden leaves as they dance their way through an insouciant scale, as the world sleeps – I wait. I'm never really certain what I'm waiting for. I'm just waiting. Waiting with baited breath for the slow end of autumn to pass gently into the icy stillness of winter, for winter's first snowy kiss. Waiting for the steam from my tea to form a perfect spiral. Waiting for all the heart ache to mend. Waiting for tears to subside and laughter to die. Waiting to hear a chorus of angels praising the Almighty. Waiting to hear the gentle rustle of His heavenly robe. Waiting for Him to whisper gently in my ear "I love you". In this perfect stillness, I realize I'm not waiting in these quiet moments – I am waiting for these quiet moments.
It is easy to lose sight in the fast paced world I live in. Easy to lose quiet between the coffee grinder and the evening report. Yet I wonder how much time my soul spends waiting for moments like these when distractions cease and true life begins.
Ummmm.....
ReplyDeleteI really like you. Words of wisdom :]
-your friend who totally stole your laptop while you arranged muffins