Clarity

We’d been languishing on the pontoon boat in a favorite private cove for about an hour when a suspicious cloud grumbled a distant warning: approaching thunder.  The noon sun still shone overhead, glaring like a searing eyeball in an open blue sky, and yet we headed for shore just in case.  The threat of lightning on a body of water should not be overlooked. 

Once back at the pier, I hopped in the lake to cool off. Gentle, good-natured rain fell from a friendly-looking cloud I'd not noticed before, dappling the surface with transparent sprinkles.  They plinked around me like benevolent, refreshing, sweet-tempered pellets.  I turned my face toward the sky, inviting their touch, remembering swimming in the rain as a child on magical days like this. 

The flashback carried me back in time, but also deeper into the moment, to clarity – to the fact that I had knowledge enough to respect the elements, but also the soul to appreciate them, to test the edge of prudence and engage anyway, within parameters of caution.  Balancing these allowed me to swim in the pre-storm, to enjoy a moment of non-logical beauty before heading to the house.

In the midst of both appreciation and insight, the approaching cloud rumbled.  I climbed the steps, wrapped myself in a beach towel dampened by rain, and headed toward the house.

Although the parallel is loose and perhaps won’t be meaningful to anyone but me, this experience reminded me of something a respected author said in an article I read a couple of days ago. There’s a little lever in the human soul, sort of light a light switch.  With a quick flip we can choose to seek God logically (faith is something to study, learn about, and understand intellectually) or else mysteriously (faith is a portal to the divine beauty and mystery of life).  A careful balance that favors mystery supports an attitude of reverence that enables us to thrive…come rain or shine.