slicing up romaine lettuce hearts dripping from a fresh wash instead of slapping together another pb sandwich
sounding out the simple words in the Dr. Seuss book: Are You My Mother? with The Babe
making that light bulb connection in my head that when i don’t list in my gratitude journal, scanning back entries, my tongue comes out fighting and grumbling
checking emails late in the bedroom and seeing hidden in a casual “by the way” email answers to prayers, prayers that only come by way of Holy Spirit’s deliberate slow moving
That is rest. Deliberate. Slow.
i have often shaken my head-mid evening rush- and thought:
“if those people I casually know could be a fly on the wall right now”
our home is loud
our home is teetering on the edge of out of control in regards to stuff, noise, needs, lots of nights
stuck up pieces of paper of all those reminders often fall and float down, get trampled, get forgotten
i shake my fist a few days later that This & That were forgotten about, scrambled to last second
but what matters always nestles into my day, and stubbornly stays, like a determined child
it has nothing to do with how organized, or awesome I am
it just happens when God makes sure that the first things are first
and i listen and nod
That is rest.
Linking up again with Lisa Jo Baker’s Five Minute Friday
Its become one of my favorite parts of the week, making Friday’s that much better.
For that I am thankful.