I've been working with the carrots and apples and crab apples (small, grumpy apples) tonight and will be making carrot pickles and jelly tomorrow. The apple crisp is baking as I type, the hour turning past midnight. I couldn't help it. The thought of coffee and apple crisp in the morning was enough inspiration to postpone my bedtime a bit.
Nora and I doctored the houseplants today and finished redecorating her bedroom. I had to completely dissect the daybed that was downstairs to make it a one person moving job, but it gave me an excuse to use a crescent wrench. [in a manly voice] Oh, yeah. (Flexes muscles, picks teeth, smells armpits.) After we finished her room, taping the alphabet to the wall, pulling out polly pockets for a bit of "polly pocket animal rescue," I looked around and thought, "I want to be a little girl again. I want to live in this room." That thought made me giddy.
I looked out my window today and noticed the mailbox door was hanging open a bit. Approaching the mailbox, I realized that our mailman had stuffed my amazon boxes into the mailbox and tied the whole thing together with rubber bands. After admiring his determination, I freed my mailbox from its tethers, plucking a few notes on the rubber bands for the fun of it and pulled the boxes free. My Book of Common Prayer had arrived. And here's one for tonight for anyone going through a major life transition (I'd argue we always are):
"Lord, help me now to unclutter my life, to organize myself in the direction of simplicity. Lord, teach me to listen to my heart; teach me to welcome change, instead of fearing it. Lord, I give you these stirrings inside me. I give you my discontent. I give you my restlessness. I give you my doubt. I give you my despair. I give you all the longing I hold inside. Help me to listen to these signs of change, of growth; help me to listen seriously and follow where they lead through the breathtaking empty space of an open door."
For all of you who are asking and looking and seeking and praying and finding a still space to listen for God so you might know what to do, I send my love and this prayer. Courage, dear friends. He says, "I am always with you," even when you are unsure what to make of this life or what this life is making of you.
I just pulled the apple crisp out, leaving the oven door open like my dad always did, using the warmth to heat the house.