He is here


“I’m here Lord,” I said through a yawn as I wrapped in a woolen blanket, clutched my cup of hot tea and sat outside on the second-story deck of our mountain condo.

I had awakened a few minutes before 6 a.m. in a mid-September morning. I looked at my husband and envied his ability to sleep. He was determined to get every bit of rest out of this vacation in Silverthorne, Colorado. I managed to find my robe and slippers, leave the bedroom in silence, make a cup of tea, drag a blanket behind me and go out onto the deck to await the sunrise.

I knew God had called me to this space before the day’s activity began. So as best I could, in my stupor-like posture, I tried to obey. The cool mountain air offered temptation to dismiss the inviting voice in my head as an auditory hallucination.

Instead, I stared at the starless sky and waited for dawn’s appearance. Like an expectant, albeit not fully awake, audience member I felt familiar expectation of a spectacular arrival. The black tea kicked my senses into gear and I heard the morning wake-up call of bluejays.

“I’m here, Lord,” I repeated as if He possibly missed the first announcement.

I waited. After several minutes the birds fell silent. In the still quiet, as the caffeine from the tea infused sleepy brain cells, I returned to the worries of recent weeks. So many things to think about. So many changes to my life. I questioned God, not for the first time, and asked Him to  reveal His plans for my life. Again I confessed my confusion and fear silently while I mouthed the words, “I’m here, Lord.”

The light in the eastern sky grew in hues of grey, pink, mauve and orange. The shapes of trees emerged. After waiting a few more minutes, I came to the conclusion that I had gotten my spiritual signals crossed and could do my worrying inside, where it was warmer.

I stood and began to gather my empty tea cup and blanket when I heard it. At first it was almost inaudible. I stayed motionless and listened. There was the sound – a slight whisper of air. It was not a wind exactly, but definitely was more than a breeze.

I checked the Aspen trees, now beginning their morning bath in warming sunshine. I detected no movement. Still, I knew there was air moving-a lulling, softly rhythmic and intermittent presence. I could  feel it, even if the trees did not.

I returned to my seat while repeating the words, “I’m here, Lord.”

In air devoid of sound other than the barely discernible air movement, I heard, “So am I daughter.”

Copyright September, 2016
Laura L. Padgett
Lakewood, Colorado

Follow me on Twitter @lauraleepadgett
or check out my first book, “Dolores, Like the River,” available at Westbow Press, Barnes and Noble, Amazon and all major online retailers.

See my Publications tab on this website for other books I am featured in, including “Chicken Soup for the Soul” books and Xulon Press, “Letters to America”.

I would love to connect with you on my Author FB page: https://www.facebook.com/LauraLPadgettAuthorSpeakerDancer



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