The Remedy by Lynn J Simpson

The sky was overcast and the wind was cool on my sandaled feet. I closed the hatch of my car, my camera bag and hiking boots locked now inside. It wasn't a beach day, but I was going anyways, to a lake I had never visited but one a friend had mentioned to me just the day before.

An adventure even though the GPS said it was only an hour drives from my suburban home.

A time out, not from my work or family or friends.

A time out from my own mind, a mind that is often spinning into the past and then imagining a future. Even, I must admit, having conversations. You know-those conversations you wish you had or maybe even hope to have with a particular someone if you ever get a chance? Hopes and expectations to resolve the conflict that you are the only one really having?

I was entrenched in the battle of my lifetime. The battle for my mind.

But the beauty of these times, these times where I really wonder if I am going crazy, is the Remedy. The remedy of becoming present in His presence. It is often at these times I feel His nudge to let go, surrender, and see.  Be present in His beauty.

An hour later I find myself on my belly, wild grass tickling my bare hands that grasp my camera. Dandelions frame my vision. Click. I rotate the lens. Click. Refocus. Click. And I see.



I see His perfection in the wildness of tangled grasses, feeling the solid ground under me. I see His perfection in the uneven dandelions, the colour schemes of purples, pinks, blues, and green. Perfection in the messiness of the scattered pine needles, gravel, and moss. I clear away a few pebbles that cover a wild mushroom.

And I wonder. I wish he would have..... And I hear, 'stay with Me, Lynn.' I shake my head slightly to clear. Stay with Me.

I look up from my lens into the wild grasses. And click.