It’s 7 (something) a.m. and I’m sitting (semi-reclining) in my chair on the deck in our backyard in Wilmore. I’m still in my pajamas with two little blankets cozying my early morning repose–love this privacy! The birds are making a cacophony of music and noise. Light filters through the leaves of our trees. The geraniums, vincas, marigolds, petunias, and lobelia that I planted just two weeks ago welcome me in profusion. The very green grass rolls out in a carpet before me.
I am home. Tears come to my eyes. I’m so tired. And I’m pretty confused. So much good, and yet how do I make sense of all this transition? Where do I belong? We are so blessed by the love of so many. Many have opened their arms and hearts to include us in their worlds. If only I could draw them to myself and include them as part of this place and this moment. But I cannot.
Is there anything more powerful and more beautiful than love? Many live life with only tiny tastes of this most wonderful elixir. But, not I. God has chosen to fill my cup to overflowing; I am thankful. And yet, somehow, my greedy self feels just a bit “hardly done by.” Oh, my! How do I make sense of all this?. . . jt