It is Wednesday.
Middle of the day.
Middle of the week.
Middle of the month.
Middle of my life.
My mind flits about with many things.
My heart is restless and weary.
How can a perfectly blessed life be full of so many queries?
I suppose questioning is life.
Faith is not easy; it is childlike and vulnerable and trusting.
My heart is not always trusting.
Life hums along, picking up speed in the straightaway
and slowing down at the speed bumps.
Puppies, part time jobs and compassion are mere curves in the roadway.
And parenting....what can I say?
Parenting is not for the faint of heart.
I am almost afraid to write it out loud, for failure looms just ahead
but yesterday we had a runaway child.
A packed backpack, a broken heart, camera, book and an escape route.
Oh, the love a mama can hold for her children.
The heart-wrenching all consuming love.
How the tears must fall and the heart must bust wide open in the name of love.
My heart ponders friendships and hard words written in the name of truth.
The ebb and flow of community, love and grace.
Where forgiveness sweeps across the plains and hurt hides in the tall grass.
This season of thankfulness, persimmon harvest and giving.
A season of blessing.
Receiving and spreading the blessing.
The grace in all these things that give us life.
The life giving grace.