Chasing the Clouds Away

And the Spirit shall lead us . . . as a follower of Jesus I have to put some stock into his words.  He told us that we--the followers--would be led by the Spirit.  On this Sunday evening I give credence to the Spirit and it reminded me of this song by the Moody Blues--The Afternoon: Forever Afternoon (Tuesday Afternoon).  Though the lyrics speak of Tuesday afternoon, it does not matter which day one plugs in there, they all work, and today the Spirit moves me.  It moves me as I contemplate the day that is ending and the week that is yet to come.

Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.

I'm looking at myself, reflections of my mind,
It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind,
So gently swaying thru the fairy-land of love,
If you'll just come with me and see the beauty of

Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.

Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.

Sunday evenings become a time of pausing, reflecting, and preparation as we take stock of the week that has just past and look towards the week that is to come.  Sundays have not always been the start of the week for me, but the culmination and end of the week.  Sundays have always been the climax for my week as it is the finale of what I do as a minister in the church.  Everything I do prior to Sunday builds towards that ending, that ending that is just the beginning for everyone else.  Thus it is that Sunday afternoons and evening become that contemplative, quiet time of reflection, discernment, and prayer--that time of listening to the Spirit.--that something that calls to me.

As the sun is setting I hear that something call to me--those voices speaking to me.  The work has been done, the message has been shared, and now the challenge is put forth for me--will I follow the Spirit or will I retreat?  

The Spirit played a significant role in my move to Montana.  I truly believe that I am here for a reason, but exactly what that reason is I am not sure.  There are times I wonder if I came to Montana on a lark, but in those moments of questioning and doubt the Spirit reminds me to be patient.  The Spirit works at the Spirit's pace and it is rarely at the pace any of us care for--we want it now!  Yet, the Spirit plods along often dragging us kicking and screaming.  I have had glimpses of why I think God wants me and the wife here in Montana.  The visions of what could be are quite exciting and exhilarating, but the path they point down look as if they have never been traveled down before.  It looks overgrown, dark, and scary--the path least traveled. Despite the fearsomeness of the path the Spirit seems to keep pushing and pushing in that unknown direction.  The visions always point to the end, but rarely allow me to see the journey between the start and the finish.  Thus it waits with a sigh.


In each of our lives there is something that calls to us--urging us to come.  There are gentle voices that we hear--urging us to come.  From where these come we are not certain for they are like the wind that blows--we know their presence but we know not where they come from.  We hear them and for a moment it causes us to pause and consider . . . 


. . . to consider chasing the clouds away.  Chasing the clouds away and finding that which makes us whole.  Yeah, Sunday evenings are kind of funny like that . . . to dream and hope.  There are worse ways to end one week and start another.