The elm rustled

The Psalmist says, Psalm 46:11, 'Be still and know that I am God'.

I have experienced many trials in life. This doesn't make me special as we all deal with the various challenges which make life at times a chore, if not, of course, worse. At times worry and fear come close to devouring us. And then, life becomes still. 

Way back in 1985 as we were expecting our second child I went through a period of intense worry. Adulting had become scary; we had the one child already and I couldn't avoid fear for his future and how I might see to it. Now there would be another to add to that worry (and a third a few years hence). You quite easily feel small. You don't know that you can live up to the responsibility. All those things which you can't control well inside you too. The future becomes daunting; what will you do? What can you do?

I dealt with such feelings for several weeks in August and September 1985. It led to an intense sense of fear and, oddly, loneliness. I felt too alone to deal with it.

While walking the dog one day this worry seemed to reach a peak. We, the dog and I, were next to the big elm which still rises above the south side of the house. The future stared me square in the face, the fear was trying to overwhelm me. I remember exhaling heavily. Then a breeze came up, and I noticed the leaves rustling. After a moment all became quiet, and I realized the quiet. Next was stillness. In the stillness, all the worry left. Vanished. In an instant I was eased.

Although I have in the 36 years since still experienced my share of foreboding I have not again felt the same near despair as I had up until the day the elm tree rustled and the stillness descended. It is a fine calm on which to moor my boat.