Unknown

Have you ever heard that phrase, "the silence was deafening"? Well its a cliche for a reason: its true.

Before bed I turn on two fans just so I can get to sleep. Its not that I cant stand to be alone with my thoughts; that I actually like. It's that we aren't living a couple blocks from the 85 anymore, but in the mountains where Jon and I did a lot of growing up. The loudest noise I can hear right now is the adorable peeping of about 30 less-than-a-week-old chicks that my Mom hatched from her own chickens out in the barn. I can go right out the front door and see nothing but grass and trees. And one sad yellow tulip among a sea of red tulips. I can go out the back door, and see mountains that sprawl out into the distance. At night, the air is so clean, that I can see more stars than I can count. Where we used to live, I sometimes forgot there were even stars to look for.

But I'm really a cloud gathering for the storm. It's quiet now because the sky is still blue, the air is still warm. But the wind will blow steadily stronger, and I will become lost in the squall. Just one more cloud in a sky of clouds. A faceless stranger in a new world. I know I will eventually turn back to this chapter of our story and exclaim,

"How Brave!"
or maybe "How Reckless!"
or even "What Were We Thinking?" 
Ill have to remind myself then, that right now all I'm thinking is, "Hurry Up!"

God has gifted me these quiet few weeks on purpose. So I embrace this interval. I am thankful for the eye of the storm, but am also thankful for the storm. Among all the red tulips, there is a single yellow one. But it doesn't look lonely anymore. I think it looks satisfied.