I’m sitting outside on the deck of the third floor of our hotel. It’s completely dark outside … except for the scintilla of lights winking across the 7×21 mile landscape.
“lost without you” is playing in my ears and I feel the wind brushing over my shoulders as the piano climbs into my mind and fills it with sweet nostalgia.
the stars here are stunningly bright, much brighter than in the states. on an island lost in thousands of miles of ocean, you feel like you are swimming in the sky. the diamond-points of light are proud, knowing they will never be lost to the world like the street lights bobbing around on the other side of the bay.
the soft whooshing of palm tree branches and the crashing of waves is accompanied tonight by the chattering of crickets. It’s quiet amidst such soothing lullabies of nature – you can look into the sky and feel the breeze more acutely – you can close your eyes and breathe in the tropical air without disturbance.
the clouds are sweeping across the sky so fast that it appears the stars are moving. the silhouette of palm tree branches points their many-fingered hands up into the dome of the night.
are there millions of tiny airplanes dancing in the sky tonight?
the wind whispers into my ears and over my shoulders again. there is so much peace; you are alone with your mind and the stars. occasionally the palm trees will whisper something to you, but they never give away your secrets.
lose yourself in the sky sometime.
feel alive and feel loved when you are lost in something so much more vast and ancient than you are.
pretend you are an emotional heroine in a movie looking beseechingly into the night if you are dramatic like me.
but then – let the sky swallow up all of your problems – hang them up for God to take between the stars.
and think about how you are worth more to Him who made this night than every night since the beginning of time.
lose yourself in love.
day 4, sitting on a deck chair, alone and thoughtful