Yesterday began with creamy oatmeal, warm in my lap and just a touch of the crunch of peanut butter.
I believe I shall have this today as well.
Made a pot of soup later and had a whole house quiet til afternoon.
“It’s a blessing,” he said, as I questioned whether I’d need a jacket to walk the dog.
The temperature just right and he’d come in from the country place where his parents lived before they died.
I ventured out and walked all the way around. We met three little girls who were new to the neighborhood and bouncy with their bubbliness “a dog!” I heard one say.
So, I eased him over and had him sit while I guided their tiny hands, one at a time to pet him. They smiled big dimpled smiles, one with chocolate on her cheek and their hair was all tousled and let be.
We walked on and I unleashed him on the trail, he started into a little trot and I walked slightly ahead then called him to come back.
As we turned back to the main road, I saw them there, their backs bent and their faces close the ground. The rhythm of their work so simple their eyes never rose to meet us.
An empty lot, a new home unoccupied and the lawn already laid down in pieces, someone had smoothed the pine straw in a sort of kidney-shaped border amongst the pines.
A few more feet we walked and I saw the determined face of the wife, not the husband. Her long gray hair fell over her face, her hand smoothing it behind her ear, I thought her eyes will see us; but, she carried on with her picking up and dropping into a bucket.
Not a sound, not a word, no invitation for how are you or what a pretty day, obliging conversation.
I thought of their tranquility as I walked on, thought of their solitude and silence, together.
The task at their hands wasn’t their responsibility, but a choice.
As if all the pine cones had been picked up from their yard already, just around the corner and they sought and found another place to do the work of their hands, the work of a simple life.
We came to the place where the three daughters now live and seeing us from far off, the oldest must have planned it just right as they skipped towards the end of their driveway to see the dog again.
Fascinated by his softness, their voices soft and admiring, I allowed them a little more time to be little, captivated by their sweet faces and the joy of their conversation.
We headed back up the hill, the big Lab relaxed into a saunter and I thought wow, he was right, it’s a blessing, this day.
This simple day.
The evening came and I thought of them again, the couple uninterested in us, singing the song of solitude, of silence, a simple life.
Then lyrics found their way in and the thought of this season, a simple season of love and grace understood more clearly, held much closer to an embrace. I thought of Alison Krauss and went searching because I remembered her wanting something simple like that.
A love song seemed fitting, more than enough, so I sang it.
Yesterday was simple, in its solitude. I believe today I shall find it too, grace, mercy, peace, and love. Find it unexpectedly when not looking or not so a surprise in my seeking.
Because yesterday had room to breathe, it was made of open spaces and things just fell into them without agenda. And God gave me grace and since I’d decided, not sure why, it didn’t seem an intentional choice, to rest from berating myself for what not done; or the agony of the fear over never being done, I was open.
Open to mercy, to love, then came peace.
“May God give you more and more mercy, peace, and love.”
Jude 1:2 NLT
I’m linking up with others here: nitaojeda.com/2017/11/26/imm-november-12/
Jennifer Dukes Lee spoke so much truth here, thank you seemed like never enough: