All Is Well

The worst time of day for me, is that moment when I slide beneath the covers. When, save for the radio playing softly, the house is quiet. Through the house there are low night lights to prevent running into furniture that hasn’t been rearranged in years. Otherwise the house is dark. Soon, as the heat of summer having allowed Autumn’s arrival to begin the cool down, Winter’s cold will arrive. That will make the solitude that is the night more intense.

My husband, in life, was a long haul truck driver. I was accustomed to night’s alone. There were always phone calls during the day, right up until the final one of the evening. The conversations keeping that connection even over the miles we were apart. At that time, my son was living in the house, his video games and music filling a void as he is a night owl, playing games into the late hours. Now he resides mostly in his camper outside. Though he is in and out during the afternoon-evening hours, there comes a time when he calls his day done. He has to get up early for work.

Now, as the hours pass and the day wanes, you can feel the quiet. As I walk through the house, locking doors and turning off lights, the quiet falls like a blanket over the rooms. This time of year, the windows are closed, so even if any of the woodland creatures of the night sing, the sound is muted to nearly inaudible. On rare occasions, one of the resident owls will call out from somewhere close. Rather than comforting, it can be an eerie, sad sound.

As I shove my pillows into position and pull the covers over me, the silence seems to be a living beast, moving ever closer as if to draw me into its depth. Though the room in truth is still, the quiet brings a vortex of emotions that threaten the peace that should be there. The sadness, the grief, the loneliness, the feelings of being worthless, and more, that swirl within the quiet.

It is then, that I have a conversation with my Lord. It is then, I seek forgiveness, it is then, I offer and recognize the many blessings I have been given. I remember where I have been, what I have endured in the past, and where I stand now. As I pray, drawing closer to the One who loves me enough to die for me, I feel the vortex slowing, fading away as if having been told like the storm, to be still.

The longer the prayer, the deeper the calm it brings. My prayers are not solely for me, but begin there and extend to family, to friends, to their friends, then outward to our world. With each whispered mention, with each request put before the throne, the feelings of solitude ease and the feelings of healing love and peace move into its place.  The near silent darkness, no longer something to dread, but something to welcome as it brings rest from the day’s events and preparation for the next day’s.

Even as I often find myself in prayerful conversation during the day, depending on what is happening around me, it is these late night conversations that are more precious. Though I have felt the comforting presence on walks alone, while standing in my back yard, while holding one of God’s creatures, it is those late night moments, where I feel most vulnerable. It is those moments, when the comfort of conversing with God. giving Him my worries and sorrows, when I feel the closest and I know, even should I not see another morning, all is well with my soul.


About rebecca s revels

A writer, a photographer, a cancer survivor. An adventurer of the mild kind, a lover of the simple pleasures such as long walks and chocolate. A Christian unashamed of my faith and a friend who is dependable and will encourage readily. Author of three self published books with more waiting to find their way to paper. An advocate of good things, a fighter against wrongs.
This entry was posted in adventure, encouragement, faith, family, inspiration, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.