We are not here by chance.

There's a quiet route I like to take when walking near our farm. It meanders past a field of at least 50 donkeys. Though they are curious when I pass by, they are always respectful of my longing for silence.  Because of this, I often wish I had 50 carrots in my pocket to share.

Tonight I am recalling one such walk when the silence paid off.  As my path turned, I saw three of our neighbors with whom I have developed a close friendship.   They were chatting and examining the hooves of a horse.  Just as I glimpsed them, a voice from beyond my own imagination seemed to whisper, “This place is set apart, protected.  It is for healing. And right now it is for them.”  That confidence grabbed my attention and I stopped to consider what I was hearing.  It was as if the veil between heaven and earth opened and I was allowed a glimpse of something rare.  Three very different women, one quiet country pasture, something at work beyond their awareness. I think I felt the peace intended for them.  I have no idea of the hurts they may have. But I am aware that my friendship with them is calling me to more diligent prayer.  As I am woven more tightly to the people of my community, I am beginning to understand why we have been placed here together. 

One of these women later thanked me for the singing she said was coming from our house at a time we were asleep. That will be my next post.