Holy Ground

A couple days ago,I was sitting in my car waiting for my sister to meet me.  I happened to be at a rest stop off the highway, that was closed for the season.  

It is along a really pretty stretch of road, and it was a glorious fall day.  I had arrived early, and I was really happy about it.  I opened my gigantic sunroof (have I mentioned that I LOVE my car?) and all the windows, and I put one of my favorite CDs on to play.  My friend Brian is one of those people who was born with musical genius just spewing forth from his pores.  If he wasn't so darn sweet, I would have to hate him just a little bit....but I don't, cause he is wonderful.

Anyway, I was listening to one of his songs called "Holy Ground."  It is one of my favorites, and I love it when I'm all alone, because I have some tasty harmonies we came up with for it....so it's almost like we are in the car singing together.  Almost. 

Do you ever have those moments (I'm sure you do) when all is right in the universe?  The scene is set, the music is perfect...the breeze picks up at just the right time.  You could swear you are in the middle of a movie...but you know this is real life.

I was having one of those moments.  I looked up, and saw this.

And this

The first words to the song are "You are with me in this place..."

I don't know about you, but I feel most in touch with my spirituality in two situations.

1.  When I feel completely in touch with nature.

2. Through my music.

And when the two are combined...watch out.  It becomes one of those all encompassing moments of wonder that I wish would never end.  Wouldn't it be amazing to feel like that all day, everyday?  But would it feel so special if you did?  I don't know.  I think I would like to give it a try.

I have always had this sense of awe when it came to simple, natural beauty.  I still vividly remember moments from my childhood that completely revolved around.the elements.  I was entranced by the water running down the street by the school after a heavy rain.  I can see it in my head like it was yesterday.  There was nothing extraordinary, or life changing about it...it was simply ripples of rain water washing down the hill.  However, it is permanently embedded in my brain.

I also remember an afternoon when the wind picked up.  My best friend Cindy and I were walking near her house, and a huge gust came out of no where.  I can still feel it hit me, and smell the scent of sand and dirt it kicked up.  I felt like Dorothy, and was excited and wanted more....I longed for a crazy, windy adventure.

Growing up in the country enhanced my relationship with nature, I am sure.  I lived in the trees.  I "cooked" with the apple blossoms and lilacs.  I painted with berries.  I made concoctions from the grass clippings and mud from the puddles.  My playground was never cement.  It was fields and pastures, woods and hay lofts.  We biked on gravel and dirt roads, not paved paths.  The sunset was our curfew.  We drank water straight from the spring.  We never bought games to play, or spent the day in front of the TV.  We created a new role to play each day.  It was beautiful.

And the music just became a part of it all.  It was always present.  It was always encouraged.  And we had a great old milk house that was emptied out, and had a fantastic echo.  That became our concert hall.  (Nothing but high class at our place!)

I shudder to think of what those early "recitals" must have sounded like to anyone who happened to pass by.  However, I would have LOVED to hide outside under the window, listening to my kids do that when they were little!

Here I am....all these years later, and these are still the things that bring me the most joy.  

Whenever I feel like I am at a breaking point, I just need to be outside by myself....away from everything.  

Our last home was located right next to a patch of woods.  The church located on the land behind us built a "prayer path" through those woods.  One particularly hard day, I went for a walk on the prayer path.  As I walked deeper into the trees, I found myself face to face with a beautiful doe.  We stood about 2 feet from one another, just staring into each other's eyes.  She didn't seem frightened of me, but rather, I felt like she had been waiting there for me, like a sign.

I know my dad sends me signs.  They come in the form of deer, cardinals and butterflies.  I have absolutely no doubt they are from him, because the timing, and the manner in which these amazing creatures appear and often linger is uncanny.  They always appear when I am at my lowest, when I am freaking out, when I am pleading with him for help, and my very favorite...when I am just having one of those days, and he knows more than anything, I need a hug from my dad.

And so, I take those little moments, and cherish them.  The moments when I'm at the piano, and feel this overwhelming joy that I have the ability to take every emotion I am feeling, and convey it through my hands, and my voice....the amazing freedom and passion that the ability to release all of that emotion allows me.

Or those moments when I know with every ounce of my being that my dad is still right here with me, every moment of every day, and the comfort that brings to me.

Or those moments when I am sitting in my car, and I see the glorious sun peeking through the clouds, and feel the breeze blowing over my face, as I watch the beautiful leaves flutter on the branches.

And then I am reminded that indeed,I truly am standing on Holy Ground.

Knees to the earth.  Face to the ground.  Heart at Your feet.

                                               Holy Ground...by Brian Schroeder