The feeling of overwhelm hit the same time I slid a tired finger across the snooze button of my alarm. The project my middle-schooler didn’t finish last night (because a. he waited till the last minute; & b. the batteries died on the camera he was using to video) needed to be not only filmed again but also downloaded and transferred onto a thumb drive…all within the next few minutes…along with breakfast, scriptures, prayer, and dressing all my little people to get out the door around the same time.
With the mission accomplished, I opened the door again to a quiet house and attempted to attack the sink filled with breakfast bowls and spoons (that hasn’t stayed consistently empty for at least the past week) when a feeling came over me to go for a run. I dismissed it as I shoveled silverware from one side of the sink to the other, rinsing the Rubbermaid container that held who knows what, and the feeling came again.
Go for a run now.
(I’ve learned not to discount feelings like that.)
I dropped the half-rinsed silverware into the sink and headed to my room to change into clothing appropriate for exercise. I prepped my iPod and ear buds, stretched, and I was on my way.
(Now, I haven’t been running regularly for quite a while. That’s probably an understated understatement….)
I warmed up walking, greeting a neighbor with her beautiful Golden Retriever, and headed to the path around the lake. I set my phone to track my distance and pace, and turned to the left (to avoid getting wet by the morning sprinklers). I rounded several corners as I made my way around the path that followed the not-so-oval-shaped lake. I felt all the feelings of relief, of time to think, of jamming to music that I haven’t heard in several weeks, and, seemingly suddenly, the path took me around to face east.
Guess what I saw?
One of the most beautiful sun-rising moments of my life. The sun was about half-way up its eastern path through the sky, and just a few clouds danced around the glowing sphere–enough to filter through multiple rays streaming down and kissing the surface of the lake.
(I didn’t take a picture, but this photo might give you a little bit of an idea of what I saw.)
It looked like a piece of heaven.
I felt like I was in heaven, in that moment.
And, I knew that I wouldn’t have seen that exact scene in the sky if I had waited to load the dishes, if I had let my own agenda take over my life, if I had been to busy or too discouraged to look up toward the light.
But I did go run.
And I did look up, and I was given a gift.
A gift of light.