The great ball of fire is beginning it's descent. The day's brightness is dimming.
We meander our way up the sandy path, sand between toes.
Pausing to feel time. To watch time. To take time. Time to see. To soak in the beauty. The beauty of time.
We hurry through our day. Not sure how to stop, how to pause. In fact, if we do begin to slow, we feel anxious and fraught-we need to be doing something! This feeling is caught by our children and the moment is dull and they voice that they are bored. They have nothing to do. "What do you mean, nothing to do," you say! For our minds are always moving, always doing.
But even Jesus took time to pause and to enjoy the labor of His hands.
"And behold, it was very good."
To enjoy the beauty of life we must be intentional.
The beauty is there, if we can only slow to see it.
I feel the pull, I feel the need to pause and to notice the suns rays casting out over the water. I hear the lapping of the waves against the shore. The children are gathering shells and are quiet. They are calm. We feel the calm.
That great big sun drops, drops right out of sight. And it's gone.
But the beauty of it's rays still remain. The glow is still yet there.