Breathtaking beauty in the ashes of a burning past.

Night falls earlier now.

The days are getting shorter.

And I’ve seen juncos in the yard. At our house, we fondly refer to them as ‘snow birds’. Because every time they show up, snow is soon to follow : )

Another cold front is making its way in this evening.

Emma is busy wrapping up some homework for the weekend. Dinner is on the stove, warming in companion pots. And the cats are all curled up. Cozy and sleeping.

So, I decided to take a few minutes and step outside into the chilly darkness.

To breathe in the air and reflect on the day.

…

With autumn’s arrival, there is a notable quieting of the lake.

The night sounds have almost disappeared. The cricket’s song. Bellowing frogs. Mallards who have a penchant for gathering and laughing together late into the warmth of a summer evening.

They are all gone until spring.

Now there is silence.

Occasionally I will hear the whispers of swans at night as they chatter to each other before bedtime.

Telling stories, I suppose.

…

Tonight I sat on the old wooden bench and looked out over the water.

The only sound was that of the wind moving through the treetops. Rustling leafy stragglers on branches spread barren and empty.

I couldn’t see the wind, but I could feel it.

Cold met my face as it blew swiftly by.

I could hear the wind rising and falling.

Over and over again.

Grand gestures, then lulling into the slightness of circles. Swirling piles of leaves that had been raked the day before.

I couldn’t see it.

But I knew it was there.

God is sometimes like that too.

Present, but invisible. 

---

I’d been going through the motions of my days recently.

The ins and outs of things that need to get done. Pick-ups and drop-offs of high-schoolers at various points of interest. Running errands and making calls.

All the while I’ve been peering out windows.

Watching leaves in their process of glorious change.

Vibrant foliage on annual display. 

A visible affirmation of our Maker.

The miraculous conjuring of Creation to transform what was green just weeks before. Now honey ochres almost luminescent on an overcast day. Burnt siennas and chestnut browns.

Like that wind this evening, there was evidence of Him all around.

But I haven’t been really feeling Him. Or seeing Him move in more grandiose ways. When my life feels monotonous, I long for that kind of big stirring.

I especially love it when you can watch the unfolding before your eyes.

Another masterpiece in the making.

You know those days, those moments when His presence is unmistakably there in your midst. In a big, certain, you know-with-conviction kind of way.

This afternoon was one of those. 

We had journeyed north for an hour along the highway.

My Sweet Louise and I.

Soon we found ourselves off the traffic-laden freeway enjoying the beauty of the back roads.

Winding our way through the countryside.

Brushstrokes of autumn. A palette of vibrant hues painted broadly over stretches of towering trees. True marvels of His work.

A backdrop for golden leaves set loose by the wind.

Fluttering.

Twirling.

Meandering, too, to their destination.

As we witnessed this exquisite display, my darling and wise Emma commented:

“Sometimes a picture just doesn’t capture the beauty that you see. You have to just be in it.”

I smiled and nodded.

Soaking in the profundity of her words.

Our destination ~ a retirement party for her grandfather.

On her dad’s side.

That qualifies everything.

That means that she would be immersed in a roomful of people that she hasn’t seen since she was small. Likely, not to remember a one.

Other than her grandfather.

He had reached out in genuine longing just years ago. And the feeling was mutual ~ we held reciprocal hearts.

You see, after the divorce we didn’t see him. Years passed and he knew little of the woman she’d been becoming. Until recently.

My Sweet Louise is his only grandchild.

Reconnecting with him has been such a blessing for them both.

But especially for Emma.

Though her father has all but dropped out of her life, her grandpa has been a connection to the family. A family that had otherwise mistreated and abandoned her. He gave her a sense of belonging.

His love let her know that she was wanted.

And she was cherished.

Something every girl’s heart longs to feel.

…

She prayed before we left for the party.

Apprehensive about the possibility of seeing her father again.

It had been years.

Anxious about the awkwardness between them.

Repeated memories of distrust and manipulation run thick and brown in her heart. Like mud downhill. Seeping into cracks and wounds. Leaving hardened spaces with the passing of time.

…

We eventually arrived.

And as God would have it…her dad was there.

Isaiah 41:10

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

After a half-hour or so, he made his way across the roomful of relatives to greet her.

I watched over the next couple of hours as this incredible Christ-centered young woman touched the lives of so many in that space. 

She was love in the form of a daughter.

A granddaughter.

A niece.

A cousin.

Softening the other hardened and mud-filled histories in the room that day.

Aunts and uncles who felt the opening of old wounds at family gatherings.

Faces became reminders of memories. Bitter tales of their own father whispering in the recesses of their minds.  Painfully recalling the terror of night and the darkness of days ~  wishing they could run from their existence. Bystanders and victims to a childhood filled with poisonous threats and violent abuse.

We spent the afternoon with those broken and battered souls.

But today…today was meant for kindness.

And laughter.

And healing.

For Emma’s presence was like a salve to their hearts this afternoon.

I watched as God moved on a grand scale, in gentle exchanges.

In personal connection.

In conversation.

In smiles.

And in hugs.

My Sweet Louise had arms outstretched to these aching and vulnerable souls. People carrying a child’s wounded heart. Now aged and lonely.

One of the eldest sisters of the family has lived a bitter and angry life. I remember her from the past. Today, she couldn’t take her eyes off of Emma.

I truly believe she saw redemption in her youth.

Pondering its beauty.

God’s grace had come down to meet us all this afternoon.

And for those few hours, I watched as that roomful of family shared a closeness that had been so rare in their lives.

All by God’s miraculous doing.

His weaving together of the generations for healing.

This was so much more than a retirement party.

God had much bigger plans!

Instead, it ended up to be a celebration of forgiveness and surrender.

Infused with joy.

Sprinkled with hope.

As Christ’s overwhelming love poured out over the day.

God was breathing life into hearts where there were once ashes.

Colossians 2:2

That their hearts might be comforted, being knit together in love, and unto all riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the acknowledgement of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ.

And just before we left for the afternoon, I watched in breathless awe as Emma gestured to her dad from across the room. Inviting him into a photograph. A capturing of the day.

There, together, stood three generations.

Her grandfather in the center.

And in that moment I saw the wisdom of age.

A once broken man, this retiree, now a bridge of redemption himself. His arms around them both ~ a loving connection between two broken hearts.

In faith we will watch and see what takes hold.

We anticipate goodness.

For that is the promise for all who love Him. In His plan. In His time. 

…

And by the way…in case you were wondering ~ it is true.

As I discovered today,

Sometimes a picture just doesn’t capture the beauty that you see.

You have to just be in it.