You could not ask for a prettier day than this morning, dark azure sky crisscrossed with bright white jet contrails turning into huge feather clouds before dissipating. Intermittent cool breezes pinging the wind chimes, making their tintinnabulations into a yard symphony. The feeders are full of birds, enjoying sunflower and thistle seeds and apple suet in the bright warm sun. Sun rays are peeking through the nine lady den windows, warming the room. I had given up on enjoying the beautiful fall leaves this year but Mother Nature has worked her watercolor magic lately and painted the tree foliage wondrously. “If I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns,” George Eliot. I would love to perch on a limb surrounded by a phantasmagoria of autumn leaves highlighted by the sun’s rays.

Made a quick run to the grocery store early morning and saw some little round purplish clouds, floating low on the horizon, little pigs all in a row, running home, one behind the other to their farm in the sky. I love watching the clouds.

Now the pageant of sunset is about to take center stage, the sun a blinding white beam is standing in the wing shadows of the stage, dressed in a sterling silver pageant gown, getting ready to take her late afternoon roll down the horizon. As she walks on stage, Mother Nature bathes the horizon in layers of watermelon-peach hues and brushes stripes of vanilla and pale blue along the sky line, highlighting the inky black silhouettes of the old oak trees. The sun rolls down the horizon on the arm of Father Sun, blushing dark peach as she turns off the day’s lights and greets the night. Father Sky kisses her cheek, says goodnight, and hurries off to wake the twinkling stars and the milky white moon. Night slowly wakes as Mother Nature’s paintings meld into the magical twilight.

I’ve enjoyed reading in my quote book today. “If the wind will not serve, take to the oars,” Latin Proverb. Some of us always expect the winds on our sails to push our boat across smooth seas all our lives. But sometimes the wind stops, blows in the opposite direction and causes a headwind. These headwinds are the challenges and changes that alter the direction our lives take. When the winds aren’t substantial, we put our oars in the water and pull and push ourselves forward. When we hit stormy seas, we trim the sails and ride out the storm praying for calm seas, for sunshine, and possibly a rainbow. “Life is like the ocean. It can be calm or still, and rough or rigid. But in the end, it is always beautiful,” Unknown.

What if we have enough faith in God to let him be our sails and our oars on our ship of life? His winds of love will push us forward, his hands will hold us safe when we travel through stormy waters. Sometimes I think Chief’s hands felt like how I imagine the hands of God, large and warm, tanned, callused and rough, but full of tenderness and love. When our youngest son was born early weighing four pounds, Chief could hold him in one of his hands. God’s hands are strong enough to captain our ship and tender enough to hold us in his arms and wipe the tears from our cheeks.

P.L. Wilson writes, “When God is the captain of your ship, your future looks a whole lot brighter than your past!” God will hold us and make us safe. If we open our hearts to him, using our faith and thanksgiving as oars, letting God captain our ship, he will calm the rough seas, and lead us to calm waters throughout our lives.

“No matter how fierce the storm, when Jesus is in your boat, the waves obey Him.” — Unknown