08 May 2007

Random thoughts on a quiet afternoon

It's 2:20 and all is quiet here in this house. Actually, all has been quiet for the last hour or so. Annalivia and Daniel have finally begun to coordinate afternoon naps. It's lovely. I should lie down and take one myself, but I'm doing some stuff I want to get done. And that is recharging me as much as anything else right now.
It has been a beautiful day here. The sun was shining this morning. Now it has clouded up a little, but it is also not quite so warm. I'm so glad that the spring is here, but, truthfully, I'm not really in the mood for 80 degree days just yet.
We had our carpets cleaned at church this week which necessitates me staying home during the day. Not that this is anything new at all, but it is nice to be mandated to stay home by something other than my own lack of desire to drag children and self into the office. I have a meeting tonight, so tomorrow I won't have this excuse. But yesterday and today, it was nice. And tomorrow, Wednesday, my secretary is out, so I'll be home again. Lovely.
And I'm grateful for the retreat. Our church family has been hit by yet another terminal illness. This time it is the 50-ish year old husband of a beloved member of the congregation. The woman who is the member of the church has grown up in the church and was a teacher in the community for 30 years before her MS forced an early retirement. The husband has lung cancer and has probably weeks to live at the most. Their daughters are slightly younger than me. I don't know how they will handle it. The family is close, but there is also a lot of posturing and secret-keeping going on. I am praying for their strength emotionally, spiritually, and physically.
And I am also praying for my little church. It seems as though we are holding so many of these situations in our hearts right now that at any moment, they might break open.
I find that for myself it is more and more difficult to bear the heartaches of others as my children grow and change. I'm so much more acutely aware of the tender strings that bind us to each other, I guess. And life seems so very full that it can't help to be fragile. Does that make any sense?
So, today, I'm just very grateful for a little quiet time to sit here in the warmth of my home and be thankful for my loves and this too short time we get to enjoy each other. I am reminded that I should contemplate the brevity of this blessing everyday. What a gift life is.

1 comment:

more cows than people said...

so good to hear from you. sending love and strength to your congregation. giving thanks to God for your blessings.