I am sitting on the front porch of a lovely house on Peaks Island in Maine. (Thank you Jon and Beth!!!) The western facing porch looks over the harbor and I am watching as a fiery orange sun slowly sinks below the horizon. Time moves more slowly here. I sat on the ferry enjoying the scenery on the way over and then arrived at the house wondering what to do first… and then I realized. I don’t have to do anything. I got changed and rode a bike around the perimeter of the island. Came home, put on PJs, read the lectionary readings for this week and then decided to just sit on the porch and watch………………
The sky is now a brilliant mash of mauve and lilac and rose with a trace of tangerine lining the clouds. The sun is gone. The bell on one of the buoys is ringing in the distance. I love Maine. I love everything about it. On my bike ride I started going around and could smell the salt and the seaweed. I breathed as deeply as I could trying to take it all in. Then there is a wooded part and immediately upon entering that I could smell the husky pines and the clean wood air. I could have continued riding all night if it weren’t for work in the morning.
I am a lucky girl. I am loved and supported. I live in the greatest of the 50 states. I am in formation for a calling which encompasses my entire being. I can see and feel and sense God’s presence all around me.
Next week I will spend 3-4 nights out here. I cannot wait. I want to run around the island perimeter. I want to have a picnic on the water. I want to breathe deeply. I want to put my toes in the Atlantic. I want to be still and know that God is God.
Now, if only my sermon would write itself. Alas, this too can wait.
Holy and Gracious God,
Thank you for the sounds of maritime bells and vessels, for birds over head.
Thank you for the orange sun and the purple, velvet sky it leaves behind.
Thank you for the cool fresh air and the smell of home.
Thank you for people who love me: crazy and all.
Thank you for night and the stars it will bring.
Thank you for shadows, and thank you for sleep.
I can feel your peace. The sermon will come. Gail.
Thank you that the oil has not made it up to the Maine coast line.