(As always, this thing writes itself so let’s see where we land…)
This morning, I woke a bit after 4:00 to the rush of rain and rumble of electricity passing from cloud to ground and back again.
The Hobbit House was filled with frenetic light.
I’m no fan of lightning or electrocution.
No walk or run for me this morning.
I pushed my alarm to ring even later and settled in to sleep.
About 5:30, I woke again and though I cannot remember whether it was still raining, I do remember how I felt in my nest of blankets, books, pillows, and at least one Adventures in Missions tee shirt.
The sweet spot: that place of peace and warmth with a cool breeze chaser that slips through the barely open window. Safety. Realization that a delicious sleep was just enjoyed and that this day is tee’d up better than most in preparation, self-care, and promise for an adventure later in the day.
Who do you thank for such a sweet nesting beginning when there is no strong hand to hold or kids or friends nearby to have helped foster such sweet sleep?
Who do you thank when the god you loved and believed and pursued – all at such great cost – is no more than a shadow – a shadow mocking the grief of all that has been lost?
So I began, “If you are and are nearby, god, thank you.”
“Thank you for such family and friends
and the way that the pillows and blankets have enclosed me in warmth and safety;
for the chance to do my best today,
to do what I can so others can take care of their families,
time with the younger Mayes’es after work,
and for Spring.”
“If you are real and are near, god, Thank you for the spring rains
that wash the salt from the streets
and the soot and dust from the air.”
“If you are real and near, god,
be real and near to the kids in their good lives,
to the people we love
and the rare few that grind my burger.”
“If you are real and near –
and I cannot imagine how you could be in this universal mess of life,
but hope you are –
Thank you for this morning’s beginning
robbed of it’s ambition to run
and given the chance to rest
and be thankful.”
Today, I hope you encounter your sweet spot, too.
Still searching for the North Star.