A stream of cool water in a sacred and holy place. Photo by CAR, 2018
That day was a Psalm 42 kind of day. It was as hot and as humid as a North Carolina summer day could be and I had a yearning to be cool and comfortable. I had a longing to walk through the woods, on my grandfather’s farm, where the shade of the trees would offer relief from the stickiness and heat of the day. I wanted to put my toes in the cool, clear water of the creek and sit on my favorite rock while dangling my feet in the water that encircled it.
I loved the quiet, the cool breezes, the sounds of the creek and the woods. This place was my favorite place and spoke to the quiet longings of my heart, even before I could name them. Holy, holy, holy.
View original post 1,482 more words