My Last Best Year: Reorientation by Soaking

If it weren't for the Psalms of disorientation, I would have lost my faith a long time ago.  They are, in fact, the lion's share of the Psalms.

February was a blur.  Dan was traveling a lot, (a blessing in disguise).  I am pretty sure I breathed.  Walked some.  People sat with me.  I cleaned out my Netflix queue.  And got OCD with my Pinterest boards.

And then, I felt a movement to reorient.  Realign.  To Life.  With God.  So, the last weekend of the month me and my guy went to the best hot springs spot and soaked, and ate, and soaked, and indulged, and soaked.  It was wonderfully cold and snowy; the water was its hottest and the steam rose enough to keep your head warm, yet flew away for a view of the stars.  Our worries floated.  Our fears melted.  Our spirits warmed.  There at the foot of the grand Collegiate Peaks.  A blessed, holy spot where I went after I lost a job;  where you can sit in the river; where I bond with my (grand)mothers.  Where I went to soak away what was to be and soak in hope for what is to come.

But me he caught – reached all the way

From sky to sea; he pulled me out

Of that ocean of hate, that enemy chaos,

The void in which I was drowning.

He stood me up on a wide-open field;

I stood there saved – surprised to be loved! 

Psalm 18