Blissful Afternoon

I will sadly not have a photo to go along with today's post..
This afternoon Jonah kept bugging me about wanting to ride his bike outside.  I had to give piano lessons until 4:45pm, so we couldn't go out in the street until afterward.  I was so glad he still wanted to go.  He loves riding his bike now, and it makes me feel at peace as I watch him pedal up and down the cul-du-sac.  He has to level the leading pedal with his hand, but once his feet make contact his balance is excellent and he's off!  I wish he could trust himself enough to know standing up and riding won't make him fall off.  I'm sure it'd be a scary thing for him, as he's just begun to feel comfortable starting off on his own only this week. 

It's the last week in March, in like a lamb and out like a lion.  Right now it's 10:30 at night and a chilly 47F.  Tomorrow will be the last day in March, and then it will be April.  Easter.  Springtime.  But today.. today I felt like I was on a remote part of the coast and could hear boats in the bay with their bells clanging, waiting to see the lighthouse.  I could taste the fog and could almost reach out to feel the rocks in the murky water as I'd hear the waves crashing against the reefs.  It felt like something out of a movie, because I know the scene could not belong in my suburb.  The cloud layer above me was scalloped in edges of ashes and rocks, all different hues of grays and dark whites, not billowing and not roiling.. just .. settling.  Drifting, waiting.  There'd be rain later. 

I hear my children racing each other up and down the street.  I hear Tyler fall off his scooter twice.  I can see them laughing, competing, and egging on the other.  They are truly kids at play.  They have no worries.  Their eyes are light, and they have sweat on their brows and in their hair.  They giggle and wait for me to see if I'm watching.  I wrap my arms around my stomach, because the wind starts to pick up and it brushes my  hair from my face in cold and wispy snaps.  I hug my elbows and worry if my boys are warm enough. 

Then it all becomes clear.  No, not my mind.  The afternoon is suddenly clarified for me.  A halo of whispered white glows through the clouds that are still wrapped in shades of gunmetal.  It burns my eyes to look directly at it.  I turn my face away, but then peek upward trying to catch glimpses from the corners of my eyes.  The sight is celestial.  Earlier today I witnessed a similar miracle: streaming rays of light, flowing from these same threatening clouds which were bursting through their darkness, touching the earth with forgiveness and redemption.  The vision I saw now was not of that caliber.  These were not sun rays defiantly breaking through the walls that held them captive.  This was a beaming, pulsing radiation of light and power.  This was heaven saying, "not even the darkest of gloom nor guilt nor sorrow can shade my glory."  I wanted to walk into this light.  I wanted to touch it.  I wanted to put my hand upon it and caress each whiff.  I wanted it not to disappear as suddenly as it came to me.  Because it came to me.  It came upon me.  And I beheld glory this afternoon.  And it was blissful.

What was also glorious was how peaceful I felt as I watched my sons play in the street during this blessed event.  They were so light and full of laughter and happiness.  They were kids at play as much as kids at play could ever be.  They cried when they heard it was time to come inside.  They fell down and scraped their knees and palms.  They raced time and time again.  They taunted and jeered, and then they sat and drank juice until it was time to race again.  Kids take it all for granted of course, but as a parent I will never see being "just a kid" as being just a kid.  I will see it as my children make me feel it.  I hope I remember this day forever.