It feels as though a microbe has taken us all hostage. In this confinement, I can either attempt to escape, complain about isolation, cower in the corner or sing in my cell.

The current medical and economic catastrophe attempts to pull me into a tumultuous landscape of fear and worry. When I follow that path, my soul vibrates dissonantly with the struggle and strain of being out of sync with Christ and in a place I was redeemed from.

So, I take a breath (in my own private isolated space) and set my self in trusting quietness before the Lord. I listen and wait until my soul syncs with the deep vibrations emanating from the heart of God. In time, my spirit sings in unison with His Spirit and resonates with the sweetness of His peace.

I love quiet waters. I’ve been drawn to them as long as I can remember. I especially love the effect of translucent water against the solidity of rocks. There’s a peaceful calm and unchanging strength in those places. The veil between the seen and unseen is thin there, and I’m touched with a strong sense of the presence of God.

In April, I went to one of my most frequented places on the S. Santiam River to take a photo for a painting. I thought it was high time that I learned to paint these special places. I hope it breathes a quiet melody into your soul.

There are still waters running through the spiritual landscape of our souls. The Shepherd treads there calling us to Himself. His voice is ever on the breeze. As we sit with Him, we sync with the rhythm and flow of His Spirit, even when surrounded by catastrophes and hardships. In the stillness, He refreshes and repairs our fragmented souls.

So, take a breath and set yourself in trusting quietness before the Lord. For in quietness and trust is your strength (Isaiah 30:15). In time, your soul will resonate with His peace. Peace is always within reach. In great trial, it reaches for you.