Tonight I went fishing.
Really the plan was just to take lots of pictures, but I got distracted.
The fish kept biting.
I could hardly drop my pole in before I was reeling in another one.

Shaun, his dad and Owen were all packing up the land cruiser, and I was still reeling them in, in the dark.

Not sure what it was.
My hands were dirty and slimy.
My tennis shoes were covered with sticker burrs.
My pants were stained and smelled strongly of fish.

But it was beautiful.
And not just the sun setting over the creek.
But the dirt on my son’s face.
The wiggle of a worm.
And the wildflowers blooming on the bank.

This morning I sat in a church (not my normal one!)
And felt nothing.
The service was cold and boring.
The music ( sang to a tape of backup music) was lifeless.
And the preaching, well I have already forgotten what it was about.

But there at the creek.
God spoke.
Not in words so much,
As in grasshoppers
And crickets
And fish breaking the water.


Alyssa said...

You have really hit your stride; I love this!

Margie said...

Michelle - this is worthy of being published. It's beautiful.