After my prayers have been poured out and the sun has poked its sleepy head over the pond, after breakfast is eaten and the bus has picked up our precious cargo, it's our time. The chill of the morning air stings our faces. We walk down the driveway, past the first of yellowed leaves scattered across the lawn. Our footsteps fall into a comfortable rhythm, much like our conversation. We savor these final quiet moments before work and school crowd our day. We knit our hearts together and forge a friendship ever deepening, this man I love and I.
Crisp red apples become sweet golden sauce, emptied into sparkling jars and stored away for the winter.
The soup pot, no longer ignored, cradles the first of many meals.
I smile as I hear the music start, then stop in hesitation. The song starts again. I can picture my girl, her face all concentration, her fingers poised over the keyboard. This new venture is part of her search for her place in ministry; these lessons are her offering to the Lord. I silently thank Him for drawing her near and pray He will teach her His music, that He will sing with her.
Evenings are filled with schoolwork and reading and music and conversation. Weekends are marked by football and bonfires.
The pace of life is steady and sweet, yet my heart longs to be settled.
After a particularly long day, I glance at my girl in the seat beside me. Her voice, unusually quiet. "Are you tired?" I ask. "Not really. I'm just ready to be home," she replies.
Me, too, my sweet girl. Me, too.
I am ready to be tucked away safely with those I love most, hidden from the uncertainties and worries.
Some days bring us low, and we bow to drink deeply of the Living Water. The prayers of faithful friends have become our sustenance, nourishing us as we continue to feel our way around in this new place, these unfamiliar surroundings.
We cling to each other. We trust. We hope. And we see glimpses of the garment of praise that Our Father is fashioning for us. It is more beautiful than the spectacular colors of Autumn. May it proclaim His glory.
...to grant to those who mourn in Zion—to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,the oil of gladness instead of mourning,the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;that they may be called oaks of righteousness,the planting of the LORD, that he may be glorified.~Isaiah 61:3 (ESV)