“My Dear Mrs Watson,” you might say to me, “Judging by the amount you’ve written in the last year, I suppose we might conclude you’re Mighty Industrious at home and care nothing a’tall for these forsaken pages of your fledgling blog.” But I say to you, little blog, I deserve “Neither such praise, nor such censure”, for I’m not so very industrious at home as not to have time to write; neither do I care Nothing A’Tall for these pages, as I do have that sort of hesitation of spirit in writing. For I want to write something Good, and Of Worth, and Resonance to the Heart and Memory. So, I ponder and procrastinate. But I resolved to write once a month this year, and as silence is the Great Barrier, I write to break it, even if it is only to say how pleasant the light of the front room is in the afternoon. How light dances in gold on the floor, and how laughter now reaches down the hall. I remember being alone with a belly full of growing life in our old house – the one before this one – and thinking how nice it would be one day when I wasn’t the only one making noise in the house. I day dreamed of hearing play in other rooms, voices, music, the clatter of curious minds Figuring Out Things. This week as The Man sat at the table with the two pink, round little mouthed babes hollering requests and chattering to him and me and each other, it dawned on me, half-way across the table as I reached over to dish out a plate, that That Day Dream Is Now. What a lovely thought; what a sobering one. In the dark of the quiet mornings, the thrum thrum of the heater hums in the background and all the tick-tocks of clocks swing in mismatched patterns. What a lot of life to live. My thanksgiving this week has been that God sending Jesus for us has given us So Much To Live For. So much purpose, and peace, and reasons to truly radiate and shine for Him.
There is my breaking silence. A few mismatched thoughts, like multiple ticking clocks in the dark, quiet dawn of this year.
If you’ll notice that shadow in the right hand corner, you’ll perceive the reason for that delicious grin – that being Daddy, of course. That boy’s favorite Man.