Breathe

As I sit here at the end of another Sunday, I am feeling grateful. Today was a good day. It has been a very long two weeks, but today I don't feel the strain. Today, I just feel peace. And gratitude. And happiness.

Before I start another week, I wanted to express what I was feeling tonight but because I am tired, I am going to share something I wrote actually a year and a half ago. It still applies.

The leaves are changing, as they should. It is October. I took my favorite trail this morning for my run because I like the trees on the trail. This gravel trail, only a half-mile from my front door runs along a winding canal now dry. I run on this trail often. From it, I can see views of mountains and the city skyline. I run here for these views, but I mostly run this trail for the trees. I have an affinity for trees. Within their canopy, I find shade, shelter and beauty. When I seek solace, I find I am most at peace in a grove, a wood, or along my arbor-lined trail.

Today as I ran, I noticed crab apples swelling on their tiny branches, straining to hold the weight. The leaves are gold, yellow and brown. Six months ago, these branches bore tiny, white blossoms bursting with new life and in a month or two, they will change again to the bare, exposed branches of winter.

I have run on this trail in every season. I don't favor one over another. They each have a distinct beauty and I appreciate them for their unique traits and lessons. Which season comes first? Is it spring when new life bursts forth or is it winter when nourishment runs deep within making possible new growth.

Along my trail I see many different trees. The most beautiful to me are the mature trees. There is strength in them. They have withstood the elements of nature, urban growth and survived. They stand fast, immovable and act as a testament to the handiwork of God.

As I grow older, I recognize metaphors in life and I realize I am not so different from the trees I admire. I think this is why I choose this trail, for its beauty and for its voice. It speaks to me of possibility and teaches me.

When I listen carefully, I learn that we too, must nourish ourselves in the winters of our lives. With patience, we can weather the storms and with determination accept opportunities for personal growth. As we endure our winters, we make way for spring and realize the possibilities of what we can become - strong, immovable, beautiful sons and daughters of God.