“God, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.” –Psalm 90:1-2
Shortly before Fran and I headed off on our annual vacation in Florida, a colleague asked me what I was hoping for on my vacation. Without thinking, I answered, “Spaciousness.”
“Spaciousness…” She thought for a minute. “What you mean?” I didn’t have a good answer. I didn’t know exactly what I meant; it was just the word that came to my mind.
So on vacation, I paid attention to times I felt a sense of spaciousness. I felt spaciousness on the beach–especially the one time I got to swim in the ocean. There I felt part of something much bigger than myself, connected with God’s vast creation.
I felt a sense of spaciousness every morning, when I sat on the porch with my cup of tea. I didn’t read the newspaper; I didn’t plan out my day; I didn’t watch TV. I just sat and enjoyed my drink.
I felt spaciousness at the bird sanctuary, as Fran and I chatted with strangers we will probably never see again. There wasn’t any purpose to our conversations; we were simply sharing our mutual pleasure at being there.
Spaciousness–feeling part of the wonder of God’s creation; having time to simply be; enjoying a conversation in the moment.
As I settle back after vacation, I find myself aking how I can bring that sense of spaciousness into my non-vacation life. I might not be able to swim in the ocean, but I can look up at the glorious sky through the ice-coated trees. I might be in a hurry in the mornings, but surely some time during the day I can take ten minutes just to enjoy a cup of tea. And I can make a choice to slow down at the grocery store and enjoy a conversation in the middle of the cereal aisle.
How about for you? Where do you experience spaciousness?
Open us, O God, to your spaciousness–the glory of your creation, the gift of time, a holy conversation. Amen.