all must be right in the world

You know those moments of bliss- fleeting moments when all must be right in the world? It may be directly following a task where you know you did well, you delivered, you "gave it your all". It may be those first few moments in the morning when the entire house is silent... the only noise around is the buzzing of the refrigerator (which you just don't notice anymore) and the noise of silence, stillness itself. It may be those minutes your child cuddles more when he or she is waking up. It may be as simple as tasting a perfect, sun-ripened strawberry and you are surprised! I have experienced a few of those moments recently, and I just wanted to share them with you. There is nothing exciting or extraordinary about the surrounding circumstances. No awards have been given, no competition has been won, no mountain has been climbed. Just full, almost incomprehensible moments in time experienced.

It seems as though the Fall season lends itself to these moments. I wrapped up a family photo session at the WNC Arboretum a few weeks ago and was headed to my car to leave. I thank God for lifting my eyes up from the path I was hurriedly walking to take in a gorgeous landscape... complete with the sun's warmth, billowing clouds hovering a gentle, sloping mountain speckled with rusty reds, pumpkin oranges and dull golden tones. Somehow the mountain met a line of trees in transformation, and the ground was littered with drifting leaves, advancing toward me thanks to the breeze. It literally took my breath away. This still, full moment. I quickly offered thanks to the Creator, knowing my thanks just wasn't enough.

It happened again. I was on my way home a week or so later, and for a split second as I turned onto our street my eyes were directed to a flat, open field- appearing lime green because of the moon's melodious glow. It was the harvest moon. Something about its fullness and size made me feel a sense of completion. It seemed large and close enough that I could just reach up and scoop it out of the sky. It was unreal looking and framed by, of course, trees in transformation. My breath-gone. My mind, after a day of running the never-ending list of errands, calm.

There have been other moments. Some that you can relate to, some that you can't.
They have each been applauded by a resounding chorus of sighs pushed forward by a thankful disposition. I am sure this chorus is not enough, and somehow I am sure that it is.