The Joy of Rambling

I am here. I live, breathe and walk through this world every day. Some moments are heavenly. For instance, my mornings are generally blissful because I get to sit outside and pray, my dog, Gus at my feet and the trees chirping awake with the gentle ebb and flow of light breezes. That’s where I am right now. But I don’t live here.

I live in my mind.

A thought floats by and I grab it. It makes me happy. Another saunters in, unwanted, but I pay heed anyway. It makes me frown. My heart sinks a little. I try to dismiss it but like a tiny tick, it has begun to burrow in. I reach out for another idea that I see slowly moving in my peripheral. It ignores me but I make a greater effort, even getting to my feet, ready to give chase. It takes notice. Our eyes meet, and I rehearse all its attributes, giving it prominence and glory. It moves closer, and before I know it, it has embedded itself under the tic, forcing it out of its new home and flinging it across the universe.

Oh, it is not gone. It will come back and try to make an even grander entrance. But in the meantime, I will call on all of the blissful summer morning moments to surround me, fill me and protect me from the next onslaught.

Ever wonder why the Bible encourages us to put on the full armor of God? Not just the belt and breastplate but all of it. Especially the helmet. God knows us. He created us and the enemy wants to defeat us with these pesky thoughts. But where I live, I can choose which ones I’ll allow to affect me.

I’m watching the effortless swirl of blue water move to and fro, rippling with a gentle force over which it has no control, nor desires it. I don’t live here, but I allow the view to create a thought that causes my insides to soar. He has prepared this table before me, and I gratefully come and partake yet again.