Eddying Thoughts Tumbled Out on a Tuesday

Anuna’s mellifluous harmonies waft about the room. My diminutive blue willow teapot steeps with just enough tea for me. My devotional moments drift into prayers of the deepest nature reaching the depthless font. All stresses fade, all tensions melt . . . for just a brief moment I rest in complete peace. I am home.

My mountain-top moment begins to fade, even as I weep for it to stay. Phones jangle, appointments demand, dust settles . . . my feet touch earth with a thud.

I shy away from the computer, knowing that tidying tasks and planning details should devour these productive morning hours. Absently I pick up pen and journal and fall into another stream, swirling down a spout of tumbling thoughts and gushing feelings – a waterfall pouring forth from these moments set aside from the routine.

I came here to my little cozy spot on the web to share something . . . but the basket I carried here stands somehow strangely empty. Did it spill out? Did I fail to gather anything?

Maybe it is enough to simply say, “Hi” without a carefully orchestrated message or diligently uploaded pics. Maybe I can simply rest and fill teacups with friendly invite to send a simple “Hello” back my way.

Of late, my life has been sloshing high and low on waves of lurching activity outside the normal confines of cottage and gardens (and will continue to do so as we prepare for a trip to Disneyworld from the 14th through the 22nd), but for just this little moment I sit peacefully in my favorite cozy chair and gaze out at the brilliant foliage garlanding the gardens even as the roses blossom and bud relentlessly.

I sigh . . . I smile . . . I count the gifts of a gentle life.

I thank Him.

Though the headlines bombard me with fearsome predictions and dire assessments, though advertisers attempt to shift my thinking away from simple living in favor of indebted complexities, though accepted practices crowd life with superfluous events, I linger in this moment of complete satisfaction – knowing His grace nourishes me sufficiently unto abundance. I thank Him for infusing me with so many gifts, seen and unseen, appreciated and challenging, popular or unusual . . . still and all, I thank Him.

Dancing off to a-typical drumbeats, I think of Madeleine L’Engle’s words from Walking on Water: Reflections on faith and art:

Often we forget that he has a special gift for each of us, because we tend to weigh and measure such gifts with the coin of the world’s marketplace. The widow’s mite was worth more than all the rich men’s gold because it represented the focus of her life. Her poverty was rich because all she had belonged to the living Lord. (p. 26)

She adds the thoughts of Emmanuel, Cardinal Suhard:

To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one’s life would not make sense if God did not exist.

How aptly these words sum up my little life in this little town in such a little speck of time and yet how BIG it all feels when I awake each morning. Each decision, thought, and movement sparks a reaction somewhere, somehow, some way. May my mysterious ramblings and curious dances bring glory to God, I pray.

And now I have babbled on long enough and have yet to remember exactly why I decided to open up this window and jot down something to share . . .

Still and all, I have come to say “Hi” and for today I hope that be enough.

Happy Tuesday, my sweet friends.

: D