Where You Go

7a91d34732658d9b1fa6a77491304a93I always feel sad when the hummingbirds leave… the summer was a continuous heat wave and there’s a part that is glad the humid days are fleeting, but, there is also that familiar creeping sadness while staring at empty feeders, hoping to catch a glimpse of one more…

This past summer season was unique, filled with many weekends away and many days in the sand; sun and waves, whales and seals, and a small senior dog near our campsite that captured my affections. I’ve been sifting, for a few weeks, brimming with thoughts and memories, feeling inspired to write but not knowing quite where to start, seeking a common thread.

I didn’t know it, but this summer was transitionary, a break in rhythm, in preparation for a change. Change is difficult, and I especially struggle with it. I find comfort in routine. I don’t like to let people down, to shake things up or turn against the tide. But as summer was ending, I realized that tangled within that familiar nostalgia was the truth, the truth I couldn’t run from or deny… the truth that God was moving us… that I needed to let go and move on. God has a way or working things out, He’s always working, even when we can’t see Him. And God is good… we forget that.

You never know which hummingbird is the last of the season. I suspected they were gone, but I stared at the feeders anyways. For nearly a week I lingered out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of just one more. And God is good. After one week He sent just one more, most likely a quick stop on his migratory path from the North, but I was looking, and I saw it. I lingered and then gave thanks. A small gift, designed for me. I knew that was it… an end of a season, and the beginning of a new…



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