Where I Find God

This morning was cool and crisp and sunny and beautifully unusual for August. I enjoyed two cups of coffee, Facebook, Instagram, Bible study, a crossword puzzle, reading and a little writing outside. I think I could have stayed in the hammock all day, but alas, responsibilities awaited me inside.

Part of the reason I didn’t want to leave the deck was that it felt almost holy to me. I’ve been very contemplative lately and my thoughts have gravitated more towards discontentment than gratitude. This seems particularly unsettling to me because there is nothing in my life that warrants such negativity. My guess is that it has more to do with this stage of life and coming to terms with the fact that our family dynamics have changed. With all the first day of school pictures posted today, I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic. This is the first time in 22 years I haven’t had a child starting school somewhere.

Suffice it to say I was feeling the teensiest bit tender as I settled in for some quiet time. But in true God fashion, he reminded me of all I have to be grateful for and filled me with such peaceful contentment. He awakened each of my senses, revealing himself to me as I sat on the deck:


The beautiful blue sky dotted with wispy white clouds glimpsed behind the trees.


The cool breeze brushing over me and the soft warmth of Sookie’s fur as I give in to her wet-nosed nudge.


The faint hint of far away ocean carried on the wind, along with a mixture of fresh earth and fragrant flowers mingled with the aroma of a steaming cup of strong, black coffee.


The sound of birds at the feeders, of children laughing at the bus stop, of singing cicadas and the muted voice of Todd as he talks on a conference call in his office.


The delicious burst of flavor as I sip my morning beverage.

I will always remember the various stages of raising kids with fondness and there will forever be a part of me that yearns for those days again. I’m grateful for those memories, but those joys have passed and I find myself discovering new ones.

I want to enjoy this stage of life, too. Even in all of its weirdness, because that’s how it feels to me. Weird. And when I start to feel melancholy over days gone by, I’m going to find my joy in the presence of God, thankful that he shows up in every beautiful sight, every comforting feel, every delightful sound, every refreshing smell and every exquisite taste that points me to him.

And next fall I’m probably going to go through all of this again.




  1. ruth m sill on August 28, 2017 at 9:01 pm

    Funny how those chapters go. This morning, the loud chatter of voices caught my ear, and I looked longingly for a minute at all the kids and parents and probably grandparents waiting at the bus stop within my view. Aaaahhh, kids going to school, I thought…all that merriment… and realized that I never realized when I was in the middle of those days that there would ever be another kind of day…another kind of life…another chapter.

    Enjoy this chapter…I am enjoying mine, and that doesn’t mean that I don’t sometimes (for a minute) wish life was as simple as it was then, when the biggest worries were what color pencils to buy…or how to label their binders…

    • JustJenster on August 29, 2017 at 11:37 am

      It’s hard to grasp the simple joys of the ordinary when you’re in the middle of it. I can look back with much more fondness than I probably had at the time. I’m hoping to figure out how to notice the simple joys of my current ordinary. 🙂

      I am VERY happy, though, that I don’t have to do any more school shopping or labeling or paper signing or first day of school clothes shopping or, or, or… lol

  2. Diane Karchner on August 29, 2017 at 8:39 am

    A beautiful remembrance of the past, and a wonderful musing on the present moments. Thanks for reminding me that each day is brand new – not quite the past, not quite the future – but a present moment in the in-between time that will soon be a memory. I love what peace comes through your words!

    • JustJenster on August 29, 2017 at 11:39 am

      “not quite the past, not quite the future – but a present moment in the in-between time that will soon be a memory.” That is quite poetic and very beautiful. 🙂

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