Day Before Quietly

I am resolved to stay home today.

Yesterday was the running-around-for-the-stuff-that-always-has-to-be-done-at-the-last-minute day.  No amount of advanced planning, or number of repeated times doing this seems to avoid it.  But at least I have been able to push it back by one day this time.  It looks like I can be quiet and stay at home today, this day before.

There's still some packing to do, of course.  And the final weighing of bags.  And the laying out of the traveling clothes.  Stuff like that.  But staying home, indulging in my introversion a little for this one day, being slow and methodical about all the final check lists, stopping to just think in unhurried ways, means my mind and spirit can be quiet in order to prepare for what's about to unfold.

By now I know the routine.  And with the time between these two trips being the shortest ever (two months only!), the packing and preparing is that much more familiar because it's more recent.  Perhaps it's even becoming something of a ritual, here now as I stand over the suitcases, and go over the lists. 

And because I have this day, it's a quieter ritual this time.  In the house, by myself, getting everything ready, especially and needfully, getting my soul ready.  Ready for another month away.  Another month not away.  Both at the same time.  Ready to release my Canadian life for a bit, and receive and be received in that other family, that other life that waits on the other side of the planet.

And I am here today, staying home quietly, this day before.

It's a praying day.  I ask frequently, "What else?  What else might I need to be fully available for Your good ideas this time out?  What else should I bring to be prepared for what You have in mind?  What else?"  And little things come to mind.  Like recipe cards, and an empty picture frame, and double-sided tape, and to enjoy the quiet of this day.  Just be quiet in it, this day before.

And tonight we will be quiet together, Ken and I.  This magnificent man who releases me for this, time and time again.  And I'll enjoy the warmth of the fire and our quietness, and we'll pray together to offer this again as a wonderment of grace that we get to do this together, even as we are apart for a while.

This day before quietly.  Yes.  It settles me and strengthens me in ways I've badly needed these past two months.  And I'm grateful for the space I'm in now, marking this day before quietly.

In these weeks between the two visits, I find I am quite keenly aware of the crazy amount of love I'm allowed in my life.  The scope of it.  The years of it.  The intensity of it.  It comes at me in waves, as I'm packing, as I'm shopping, as I'm driving, as I'm worshiping with my community on Sunday.   I love and am loved, know and am known in ways earlier versions of myself yearned for painfully.  But now, there is a wild excitement, that also balances and centers me in love, quite securely.  And on this day of quietly before, I am more aware of it all.

This day reminds me of words penned by a contemplative shepherd leader a very, very long time ago.

"I have calmed and quieted myself,

I am like a weaned child with its mother;

like a weaned child I am content."

Psalm 131:2

Calm.  Quiet.  Content.
Even as, like a young child, there are great adventures ahead of me.
Tomorrow.
Today is the day before.
Quietly.