To slow down home. The Kitten and I slice bags of country apples to put up for winter. We prepare for comfort on the endless frozen days and already know the blessing they will be... pie crusts rolled out and placed in the freezer. Ready for the days when we need an escape from all that is cold. Hard. Icy. Bare.
I think about friends and roll out prayers. Holding them in my kitchen.
Allison Krause sings silver shivers down my spine on Pandora Radio, and the laundry sits in neat stacks all down the kitchen table. The Shoulders keeps coming into the kitchen, and I can tell he is comforted by the sight of us. Two of his girls in skirts and aprons preparing home, making home with hearts full of him and all his strength for us. His hand slides on my hip, and I am weak. Thankful for this little life here.
The Strong Soft begins her first fast for a beloved aunt. My sister. My friend. All these prayers go up in symphonic heart strings for her, and it is good to be still and silent before God. He bends down and listens to our prayers. So we ask for a miracle.
Missing my Silent Deep son. Makes me smile to think of him. I pray for his life and for his future, and hold him too...right there in my kitchen.
The laundry goes on, the lawn mower drones, and the dishwasher tries daily to die. But inside these walls, the rush is kept at bay, and we lie deep in His Sabbath rest.
On a Sunday afternoon,
Bernadette
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