this time of year.
Being home all day Saturday. Just. Being. Home. A slow in-seeping of joy as I wrapped presents, sipped tea, ran through a few loads of laundry. Not having to be anywhere else. All day.
Early, early this morning, alone at the front of the church. Lit only by the lights on the tree. Listening over and over again to Breath of Heaven (Eaton/Grant) and keenly aware - again - of my desperate need. Such a gift to be so vulnerable before a terrifying God... and feel so safe.In my office after church today. Packing up, sitting at my desk, I felt two slender arms encircling my neck. I hadn't heard her come in, but it was Abby. She didn't say anything. Didn't ask for any of the candy she knows I keep in my desk drawer. She just hugged me. "Everything okay?", I asked, because she was so quiet. "Yeah," she said. "Just wanted to come hug you."
Finally. Finishing. Greek! I've been working on an online credit since the beginning of August. There's been computer-related challenges over and above the brain-brutality language learning is famous for. So to reach the designated level that crossed me over the finish line made me close my eyes and fill my lungs slowly and deeply. I held the relief in there for a little bit. Then let it out slowly, reveling in that wonderful sense of having accomplished something important and difficult.
Receiving word that someone wants to give $1000 towards the costs of bringing our Thai friends to Canada next month! A surprise, this. Didn't see it coming.
A December with space to breathe. And plans for family gathering that lack the painful complications of other years. Oh yes, this is truly a gift.
And it's all a gift, in the simplicity of it. That's all. Just quiet and beautiful and life-giving and sweet. I receive these gifts with gratitude of magnificent proportions, inside a soul fully aware of all there is to grieve.
Yet stubbornly, I notice the peace. Because it's there. Simply.
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