On December 21, the winter solstice will arrive. You’d hardly know it around here. The skies have been so blue, you’d think it could be a day in late spring, except for the trees. They’ve all gone to sleep for the winter. My bird families have moved on to warmer places. The mustangs haven’t put on their winter coats quite yet. It’s just been too warm.
Thinking back over the years, I’ve always had several projects going at once. Crafting. Two or three books on the nightstand, so that I had a choice of bedtime story. A few DYI’s going on. There was plenty to keep my mind alert and active. VST was the same way.
These, the last few days of my 65th year, I find things quiet. The studio is dark unless I’m writing. The garden shed is closed for the winter. Fall cleaning is all but finished. Christmas decorations are in place. There’s a big lull in the action. Whatever have I been choosing for MY busy? Not much. I’ve stopped to rest for a little bit, realizing that the road of healing is a long and windy one that continues far past the place in which you think you couldn’t possibly continue.
Yesterday, my busy was filled with church family. How fortunate I am to have chosen a quiet little 40 year old building on Main Street in which to pray. From the outside, you might not even notice it’s there. Sitting back from the road, a large cross glows on the front at night. A weathered sign displays a message changed every 14 days. Changing the quote was a job that I helped with when my friend had her hip surgery and couldn’t do it herself.
When Pastor C arrived yesterday, I busied myself with a request for my own baptism. 66 years ago, I was baptized inside a country church along another dusty little wide spot in the road. Surrounded in a sea of grape vines, my mom, dad, and three sisters carried me to a church built with the help of my Great Grandparents. There, the farming community prayed for my tiny little soul as drops of water were splashed on my bald head. A lot has happened in those 66 years.
Being a woman of faith, God led me to this church at the most devastating time in my life. Probably saw my choices of busy and thought, “I better give this woman a little nudge in the right direction.” Being healthy and able to participate much more than I’m currently doing, my little neighborhood, church, and sweet town could use some help these days. Kindness and selfless helping are a great way to keep me rolling on towards Happy Town.
Pastor C, with his twinkling eyes and unique style asked me some very pertinent but easy questions, and then explained the Christian ritual. Baptism is symbolic. It’s a way to show obedience, identification, and testimony. Although not a golden ticket to heaven, it’s a Christian tradition, ritual and sacrament of admission into the Christian Church. It’s the right choice for me.
At the end of the worship service, I was presented to the congregation as a worthy candidate for Holy Baptism. Standing there with the eyes of all my friends upon me, I saw the love of family as they all shouted “Glory” in unison. I’m not alone in this life, even though on some days, it feels that way.
The rest of my day was busy with the act of being peaceful. Without a need to race around finding things to occupy my mind, I felt a soft, quiet, thoughtful glow in my heart. Just being was enough busy yesterday.
Today is another story. Miss E is already baking up a storm for Saturday night and the Christmas Dinner of 2021. The women of the church are deciding on our table decorations. The church will open at 6PM for dinner. The teenagers are already counting their “bank”, looking forward to serving the elders of the church who tip very well. A hand delivered invitation has gone out to every single family in the church, visitor or member. The dinner will be a sit down, plated, All-You-Can-Eat-Home-Cooked-Dinner with an abundance of delicious food from a menu prepared for by Miss E and approved by the committee.
In a few days, I’ll be baptized by Pastor C before I turn another year older. What the next year will hold for me remains a mystery that is none of my concern today. On December 21, winter will officially arrive. The days will again start getting longer on the march towards spring and bud break. Another year with Oliver and Winterpast. My first year in new spiritual life. So many more stories to unfold.
Have a wonderful day today. More tomorrow.