I sit by the shoreline, my hair teased by the same breeze that skitters across the surface of the lake. Far off, a large ship sails seemingly at the edge of the world. Just two days ago, the wind chill hovered at the freezing mark. Today, the girls roll up their pants to wade in the gently rippling water.
My oldest daughter bends low to pry invasive mussels off boulders to dissect later. My middle daughter pretends to be a pirate. A missionary-pirate, to be exact. My youngest daughter collects smooth, wave-worn pebbles to paint and give away for Christmas.
Christmas feels far today.
The warmth of the sun, the happy chatter of my children, they soothe me. Everything in the world seems chaos. But here, there is peace.
There is always peace by the water, even on the wildest of days. There’s the vastness of one of Canada’s Great Lakes. There’s the calm and safety of our harbour. There are 725 kilometers of cliff stretching off in the distance. There are trees and grass, sand and rock.
There’s a sense of the bigness of God.
Pandemics will come and go. Stock markets will swoop high and then tumble. Nations will rise and fall.
But God holds His children in His hands.
A ring-billed gull dives low across the water, past a gaggle of sleeping geese. They remain unperturbed. Peaceful.
And my soul, too, feels peace.