A Quiet Place

Tonight marks a week since I've returned home, and although fully "in the trenches" I cannot seem to shake a lingering haze that hovers over my days. Perhaps I underestimated the amount of recovery time we would need to compensate for such an extended absence.  Or, maybe I didn't forsee the possible need to have a more structured reentry plan.  No matter now.  Either observation only has benefit as hindsight and, by default, foresight.  Neither observation is producing atmospheric change.

Change has had its place in the last week.  Firstborn son has indicated he'd like to make a major shift in his future plans for education and career.  We have some ironing out of goals, objectives, needs, and desires but we are moving forward on action steps in the meanwhile.  It's a plan that I've been gently suggesting for several years and now it appears to be more his idea than mine.  I'm in a little bit of a conundrum though, since I did all my record keeping and administrative home educating tasks for him with a particular outcome in mind, and he's changed course, requiring me to revisit long buried files.  And, given a massive move in the last 24 months, this will be no small accomplishment to gather the necessary materials against a looming and short deadline.

I've cleaned out a couple of closets.  January is a good time to sort stuff I've found.  I'm behind my anticipated schedule by quite a bit and feeling a little stressy .  But, after I drink a soothing cup of tea and calm my anxious heart with psalms, hymns, and a stern self talk, I observe measurable progress.

All the stirring and sorting of closets have helped me to create this space.

It's quite a work in progress yet, but it's neat and set apart.

Which will be essential in weeks to come if I'm going to assist my Firstborn Son with meeting his deadline.

Our master bedroom is very small, so giving over this much space is a major commitment.

But, by setting this place aside I'm invited to come back, read, be restored, and chronicle the good gifts the week has brought and settle into the quiet joy that winter, January, and contented place affords.

and, yes, I know...I'm a month ahead of myself.

I started numbering so long ago that I've quite lost track of the number I'm actually on, and that is the first gift this week:

• Habit forming list making that brings "sozo" the full life for which Jesus came.
• When I return to this place and give thanks (like the leper out of the 10 who returned to thank Jesus) not only do I remain clean, but I receive another measure of abundance.
• Safe travels last week and the unmerited gift of getting the last flight out of my connecting airport in a flurry of weather related cancellations
• Another church potluck-soup and pie this time.  All so good! And, the fellowship even more rich than every single one of those decadent pies!
• Hopeful prognosis for my dad.  
• Shiny hair, glossy lips, polished nails and little girls playing dress up, fully given over to the pursuit of femininity.
• Electric blanket keeping Weekend Farmer Husband and myself cozy warm in the drafty farmhouse.  What luxury.
• Smoky beans, fragrant coffee, an extra dark blend, waiting for my return as a welcome home mommy gift.
• Eldest daughter planning menus, preparing meals, handling grocery shopping all by herself and finding joy and satisfaction in service.  I drop her off at the store and do other errands while she handles it all-wonder!
• Pain reliever, decongestant, steamy showers to relieve aches and pains, give comfort.
• Oranges, lemons, limes-winter jewels on the kitchen counter, in my cup, and melding sweet, sour, salty, savory in comforting nourishing food.
• Second born son, waiting up with me, distracting my fluttery heart from the tardiness of his eldest brother.
• Safe return on a winter's night for Firstborn son.
• Winter clearance sales and the pleasure of new clothes.
• And rest-for the farm, for the animals, for the children, and even for me.

Linking up over at Ann's this afternoon.  What good company is there-