Yesterday, i drove to pick up Taylor from the top of the hill on campus - as i usually do. It had just stormed, a good long one that woke me up several times in the middle of the night and continued to periodically dump down its bucketfuls throughout my work day. The sky was starting to clear in that magnificent way it does, patches of bright blue visible behind the billowy clouds. Looking down from the hill for the first time, I noticed them. The light was just right, highlighting the very horizon and the army of windmills that turned steadily on its edge. They glinted as if only a mirage, a miracle vision brought by the storm and soon to be gone with the sunset.
I'd been wanting a good storm for a while. The longing had buried itself somewhere deep in my bones (which was disconcerting considering I longed for a very specific type of Abilene storm - that being in my bones worries me slightly).
While I sat there on the top of the hill waiting, watching the gleaming power-generating landscape, I came to a conclusion: this storm was the answer to a craving, a deep-seated plea from my soul sent up the to universe, please... please, let it storm!
I've formed a habit of trying to meet my own needs and first recognizing these cravings for sleep, carbs, a phone call, some fruit or chocolate. I'm learning to recognize them, then satisfy them. I'm not perfect , nor do I intend to be, but I am improving. Slowly, I'm understanding that the more I give my body (and mind... and heart...) what it asks for, the more subtly it asks, the less it demands. And herein lies the solution for binging, over-doing the sweet and running on empty (for me, I believe).
That's my part - that's what taking care of myself means. That's the charge of my stewardship.
And the rest, well, just like that storm, I'll leave that to my Higher Power and trust that no bone-deep longing gets left unattended for long.
