Ruminations on a Windy Night

Wind.

It swirls around me tonight, with November’s brittle leaves. It stirs mystery within me—the unanswered questions, the life my mother now lives in heaven, things out of my control. Things that might or might not happen.

Its mystery always seems more enhanced, more noticeable, in night’s darkness, in the gaps between seasons.

Wind, how it takes me places, places both dark and bright:

Mystery—that of faith, of beauty in this world, of friendship. Of Christ’s cross.

Wind and Mystery, the voice and the nature of the Holy Spirit, the pain and joy of letting go and taking hold,

Of choosing to believe, whatever is stirred.