
These are the precious hours to soak in the quiet stillness, the lilting music of birdsong, gentle wind chimes swaying, the distant spinning whir of laundry appliances joining the chorus song of life.
I begin this week by tidying up. Clean sheets and towels emerge and playthings are tucked back on vacant shelves while I wait on a most important phone call. I begin to prepare my heart for the counseling conversations scheduled mid-week with dear clients.
I recall once again Saturday's tender memorial service honoring a life lived well ... and my heart replays many conversations during that sacred gathering. I recall friendships from decades past that have come to visit us once again, memories awakened.
My eyes brim.
And then my mind ricochets over to a crazy mosquito-infested photoshoot with the six little ones, a gentle sabbath walk, a hopscotch board chalked onto the driveway. Ice cream savored in the hot sunshine's rays, a bag of frozen grated cheese icing an injured foot, and excited young crafters displaying woodshop creations hammered together with Pa. Images of my daughters cuddling their own children close, an actively swinging hammock, a rainbow of hoola hoops strewn from here to there on newly mowed grass, and the joy of the family table all careen together, making me smile wide.
Shouts of laughter. And too many hugs to count.
And maybe when all is said and done, this is why I write on the most ordinary of days. Whether journaling or blogging, God seems to whisper deep as I put pen to paper. It's there that He invites me to fully recollect and recall, to sort and process well, and to hope and dream the biggest of pictures.
And from that place I emerge with learnings and peace that overflows and the deepest of gratitudes, even when concerns are deep and tears threaten to fall.
His Spirit prompts me to remember the glorious sight of a double rainbow filling a very gray sky several dusks ago. The anticipation of the days ahead beckons me forward. No matter what those hours may hold ...
