(33) morning like evening

a damp morning [the view from inside]

A morning as dark as evening has dawned and I have awoken with it, to traffic rushing through the wet streets, to wind blowing rain through the few remaining leaves on trees, to the dampness, to the morning, to the dark.

Today should be interesting, with a restless night behind us on an air mattress that absolutely would not remain inflated, but the room was quiet, dark and finally in the early morning we climbed together into the twin-size guest bed, leaving the queen-size air mattress behind. I lay awake last night wondering if we could sell it on Craigslist.

Today should be interesting, it looks busy, but busy with good things, with many sweet people, people I’ve been longing to see. The rain pours harder and I breathe, ready to drive carefully on busy wet highways, following old familiar ways to familiar places.

And in the middle of all of this, I am looking for You, Jesus. When the sun breaks through the clouds to surprise us (as it did yesterday to our delight), I see you clearly. Seeing you in the rain is easier when I’m inside and warm with my coffee and favorite blanket and more challenging when it drenches my plans and fills my worn-out shoes with water. I’m picky, particular, situationally-challenged when it comes to seeing you, I guess. You feel close when I feel loved and connected to the people I love, when I’m in geographic states and states of being that I recognize and associate pleasant memories with.

It is still raining steadily over my parents’ backyard, but blue sky is opening up in the westward direction. Which makes me smile. And now the rain is letting up into a steady drip and the blue is spreading.

Let me recognize you today, Jesus, in your many disguises. Remind me to practice a deeply grateful heart, one moment after another.


(9a) soul pleasure


He’s hungry, he says. I realize slowly that I am as well. An idea begins to form, random bits and pieces from the fridge are coming together as I envision a finished product: satisfaction, delight.
I giggle at my silly wonder upon opening the spice cupboard. My soul grins as I choose the voices for today’s choir (lunch). I’m not the kitchen’s Beethoven; I don’t know exactly what it will sound like in the end, so I just choose what I love and what calls to me today: Worcestershire, rice vinegar, sesame oil, soy sauce, ground mustard, cumin, cinnamon, fresh garlic…honey? I’m uncertain, but I’m not planning on creating a masterpiece, just moment of joy.
As it turned out, it was all quite a hit. I loved feeding him. He loved being fed. And my soul delighted in the process.