These days
Our days now are filled with homeschool, writing, walking, meditation, working at Shekina Garden or making music. I teach children, call workers to arrange for sandbag installation, sit with friends to read the Bible or a children’s devotional, or work on fixing the mud wall top coat. I write and take photos. These are simple and complicated times as we work on the details of launching our oldest son into a world that has more obstacles than usual. Although, I imagine it isn’t ever easy.
I keep trying to bring myself back to the present. We think we are over the worst of things, and then another wave of infection comes into this country and we are still waiting, and we couldn’t have ever envisioned things being like this. I keep trying to pick up the pieces and race forward, but it isn’t time yet.
So. Okay. What is the work in front of me today? Where are the whispers and roars of God’s presence? How can I hear more clearly? How can I dig a little deeper for inspiration, when the world is contracting?
One of our children’s closest friends left recently. His mother is my dear friend. They were permanent people in our life, unlike short-term travelers who come and go. But nothing and no one is permanent, really, and also, they can’t ever be taken away. We love them and they have made a mark on us. Love is bigger than distance, and I say this with tears in my eyes.
The last two days were full homeschool days. A couple of extra teens come over and a few extra younger kids. We’re learning about history and literature and writing. We hold a circle first thing, sharing about what we’ve been reading or learning or watching lately. Sometimes I ask questions that push us a little more into heart landscapes.
“What thing do you do that makes you feel better in your body and heart and mind after you do it? How could you do it more?”
The answers are varied.
Make my bed and play my guitar first thing.
Ride my bike.
Draw.
Go for runs.
Wrestle in Isaac’s room with the A/C on.
What is your thing? I have a few. One is painting. Another is walking and finding beauty. Every time, every time, I am reminded that I belong on this earth, that I am allowed to be here witnessing God’s joy.
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