Peace like a river

Creating space in a relationship amidst the mundane routines of life isn’t easy to achieve. The very moment I need it, I frankly don’t feel like making an effort. At the end of one particularly busy, stressful week, JD and I were driving on the Cascade Highway toward Stevens Pass in Washington State to watch our son play football under the Friday night lights. To save time, I had packed sandwiches for dinner to eat along the way. What I hadn’t anticipated was the beauty we discovered as we made our way on this winding mountain road. At one point, we couldn’t resist pulling over to eat our sandwiches by the side of the Skagit River as the sun started its descent—slipping down and playing hide-and-seek among the trees. I don’t recall the words spoken, but I remember the peace and contentment I felt as I snapped a few pictures. Peace and contentment like that can be difficult for us to come by. Our days are crowded with kids, school, and sports—chock-full of the mundane rhythms of day-to-day tasks. JD’s rigorous and demanding work schedule leaves little time to be alone as a couple. This evening was the typical fare, hurrying from one thing to another, not wanting to be late or miss the starting time. But this time of stepping away from the typical to experience the extraordinary was a valuable lesson for me. By taking fifteen minutes from our schedule, we created a memory. The two of us, just sitting and eating sandwiches, watching nature, listening to the gentle movement of the water, experiencing beauty together—a long-overdue peace-filled moment. Later I captured this scene on canvas, locking in my mind the significance of being proactive in my marriage. It takes conscious effort to make the most of the little ordinary moments we do have, to “breathe in” life, making space, however small, for harmony to grow, instead of complaining or arguing about time that has already slipped from our reach. I recognize that, far too often, I can destroy the good between us by pointing to the deficiencies rather than creating margin to re-discover, remember, and be thankful for the love that binds us. This doesn’t mean it solves all our problems with communication or the tension that sometimes stands between us, but it brings a healing salve to our emotions. These moments cause me to stop and remember that there’s good in this marriage, there is good in this man, and there is even good in me. A bit of mending occurs at a time when both can receive it. Just as I take the time to capture pictures of beauty (like this river), I want to make time to take “pictures” of the goodness and beauty I see in my partner—a moment for my memory to be nudged, allowing grace and love to win the day.

“Oh, that you had paid attention to my commandments! Then your peace would have been like a river, and your righteousness like the waves of the sea.” (Isaiah 48: 18, ESV)”

(Painting and writing from 2001, but I am still working on this life lesson )

— Art and Soul: An Artist's Reflections by Leigh Fitz