My-gration.
At our home in southwest Michigan on the first of May, we enjoy the return of our favorite birds to our backyard feeder. Like clockwork, the rose-breasted grosbeaks with their striking red throats, and the orioles in their bright orange cloaks, head north and migrate back home after their winter hiatus in the south.
This year in May, we also headed north—even farther north than southwest Michigan—to our cabin in northern Minnesota. From the middle of May through next week, the first week of October, I will have spent nearly thirteen weeks Up North. My husband, who’s not yet retired, managed to squeeze in several weeks as well. It was a grand experiment, and we’re learning how to manage all the things…
home and cabin chores and upkeep
long drives to and from the cabin
spending time with our kids and grandkids
being apart as a couple (absence does make the heart grow fonder!)
walking, biking, and kayaking
entertaining friends and family in both places
scheduling, scheduling, scheduling…
finding time to write.
Although I had high hopes of completing some major writing goals in the copious free and quiet hours at the cabin, as the list above shows, writing often came last on my to-do list. I did find some perfect hours when all the stars (and sunshine) aligned, allowing me to sit on the deck and create. But there never seemed to be enough.
Though hard to measure, I do think this time spent in God’s beautiful creation—often in solitude—has brought me closer to Him. Prayer has always been a part of my life, but the surroundings here remind me of His presence more frequently and tangibly. When I see the sunshine glistening on the lake’s surface, watch the colors change from springtime greens to autumn reds and golds, or hear the call of the loons, I am reminded that God is with me—here in Minnesota, at home in Michigan, and on the road in between.
During one of those quiet moments this summer, I was inspired by the loons. I love their calls and wanted to better understand them. After a little research, I could identify the different songs and their purposes. I was so inspired, that I wrote a story about loons, their calls, and our conversations with God. It was published at TheBanner.org (the online magazine of the Christian Reformed Church).
Soon, I’ll be joining the loons on our southward migration for the winter. It’s been a good summer. I’ve learned a few things in this grand experiment that I can take with me on my future journeys back and forth.
I hope some of the insights I’ve passed along have been helpful on your path. Wherever and whenever you are, I hope you find space and time to marvel at nature, listen to the birds, and connect with your Creator.
Whether you move or stay, change or remain, journey forth or settle in—look for those moments of peace and wonder. And give thanks.
