I’ve mentioned it several times before, but I’m a child of an alcoholic. Actually both my parents were. (Disclaimer: Before you think I’m not honoring my father and mother, I loved my parents. They gave me all I needed growing up. I had a good childhood, albeit in the midst of alcoholism.)

But as a child of an alcoholic, I hate chaos. I pursue peace, calmness, and control. You’ve heard this before, I know, but when moments of peace come… when they happen… they are so refreshing. I feel like I’ve trained myself to recognize them. For you it may be different, but for me, they are almost always found outdoors.

I’ve had a rough week at work… actually a rough couple of months. Because of personnel problems in the office, I’ve been handling all the office duties. I’ve had some help here and there, of which I’m grateful, but now we’ve hired someone to help and I have to handle the training, in addition to all the other jobs, which can’t humanly be done in a normal workday. I can just feel the tension as I type this.

Anyway, back to finding peace. Yesterday, after a full day at work, I rode my motorcycle for an hour before going to men’s group. After men’s group, I came home to walk Bella, our precious little dog. I love our walks, because, for the most part, they allow me to pause and be still. As Bella was sniffing one of a thousand places where she stops and sniffs, a Great Blue Heron flew overhead. It was past sunset but still light enough that you could easily make out his silhouette and he flew so low, you could hear his wings gracefully flapping and carrying him across the sky. He was majestic.

When those moments happen, I can take a deep breath and know that God is with me. Maybe it sounds silly to you, but for me, those moments are gifts from God. Gifts designed to remind me of the peace that He alone brings (for me, through His majestic and magnificent creation), and to remind me that He is bigger than anything I’m going through.

That’s why I get up early in the morning and read, write, and think as the sun rises. It’s peaceful. It helps me be still. It helps me hear His voice. It reminds me that He is bigger than anything I’m going through.