Skip to main content

Savoring the Moment

Yesterday was spent preparing meals to freeze to make it a little easier over the next few weeks. I collapsed into bed last night exhausted but at peace. But sleep proved fitful at best. I got out of bed in the early light of the morning. It was just light enough to find my way downstairs to my Magnificat and the morning readings. Not too long after that, I heard heavy footsteps overhead and knew my husband was getting ready to go to work. He came down and we went through the mail and what the day might hold before sending him off with a kiss. I got the laundry started and puttered about the house organizing a little bit. I went back upstairs and laid down to do a little reading while the house was still quiet. One by one, the little ones wandered in and snuggled around me. By then, it had started raining outside. I opened the back door to let the sounds and smells of a gentle morning rain drift in and around us as we started our day.

The rest of the morning has been less than ideal, but I think I will cling to the good part and carry that with me today.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Walking a New Path

 Well now. It has been quite a while, hasn't it?  I have kept silent about my struggles for the past four years, mainly because I was in the midst of something that I never imagined could happen to our family. And it wasn't just my story. It still is not.  A friend once told me I am an external processor, and I suppose she is right. I find that saying things out loud help me find the answer, if there is one. There was no good answer, as it turns out. And so, I am sad to say, that I am now divorced. A single mother, navigating a life I never imagined.  But there are some things that haven't changed. My faith, for one. I know that God is with me on this journey and that He is way smarter and wiser than I could ever be. He has held me close as I wept and grieved the end of my marriage. He held my hand as I packed up what would fit in a moving truck and drove our belongings to a new home. He has led me to new jobs and I can only trust that all will be well if only I cont...

The Door Table

Once there was a store in Georgia. It is no more, but how I wish it was. I likened going in there to treasure hunting. One never knew what was going to be in there, and you had to dig through and wade through all the "other people's treasures" to find your own. I once found a set of blue and white teacups and saucers from England. I found lace handkerchiefs, a rocking chair, and an end table. But by far the best find was my kitchen table. I had stopped by one day while the kids were taking horseback lessons and the then little ones were asleep. The store was not open, but I went up to the window to see if anything new was there. And it was there. The table. And six chairs too! We were in need of a bigger table with Jack on the way. My mom had offered to give us her old one, which I was going to accept if I didn't find something I liked better. I didn't want anyone else to even see the table because I knew it was supposed to be ours, but one can never tell abo...

Fog and faith

 I stepped out into the coolness of the November morning to start the car and defog the windows, preparing to take Jack to school. Daylight had yet to appear. As we drove the many miles, the sky lightened, and we could see the mist hanging out just above the grass. We usually listen to a story together on our drive, adding commentary, exchanging a knowing glance or a shocked expression as the twists and turns unfold. I relish this time with Jack. I know that all too soon he will be preparing to leave the nest, like his sisters before him.  On the drive back, I pull my rosary from my purse and pray. By this time, the sun is just about to appear, making the sky a beautiful orange-pink on the horizon. I am pondering much as I pray, for the path I am on is once again rocky and uncertain. Such is life, whether we have faith or not. Faith makes it bearable. For the most part, the road home is a straight shot and I can see the ribbon of road laid out before me, narrowing in the dista...