It is Sunday morning and there is peace and stillness in my home. I sit at my couch with my runt-of-the-litter cinnamon roll and the final swigs of lukewarm coffee. I cherish this time every Sunday, a time of quiet and stillness and individual pursuit on the day of rest that the Lord has given us.
This particular Sunday, I am grateful for the grey clouds and windy skies, for although they will mean no afternoon tennis game, they are also an encouragement to slow down and be still. Yesterday, chaos and noise were the rulers of the house as Sam had 3 guy friends over and they chatted and played music and drank coffee. I made them go on a picnic in a park by the lake first, and we had tabbouleh and chips and guac and semi-frozen peaches from a jar. Friday night was spent with Jordan and it was such a joy. I loved sitting and talking as the summery evening faded to darkness, slowly but surely. We ate brats and sweet potato fries and played tennis in the park and it truly did feel like summer. Only the outline of my school on the edge of the park reminded me of Monday to come. Saturday morning Holland came to town and she met the bread man and I had a few bites of pretzel and the last swigs of lukewarm coffee in the bottom of Holland's mug. I wasn't hungry because of the cashews I devoured after my morning run. So here's where it gets good. Did you wait patiently until the end? Last night, I had a dream in which I died. It began when two of my friends and I were a part of an investigation at the White House and all of a sudden, one of the agents that was a part of the investigation poked two of us in the back with a small, sharp key. We were poisoned and immediately passed out. (The other agent took her down via a choreographed large group dance/fight session.) The next thing I knew, I was at the front desk of the hospital and the head doctor was telling me to go home. She said I would die in my sleep sometime that night. I walked away weeping, but not with sadness. I was so overjoyed that in less than 12 hours, I would be seeing Jesus face to face. And I think that's kind of the whole point. I didn't run around frantically trying to convert as many people as I could, I was just satisfied with the fact that I would be seeing my Savior, finally meeting him. I have a hunch that may be what the moment is really like; not me sitting there in a pool of regret about all that I didn't do, but me rejoicing that I finally get to be with my first love. So there's something to take with you this Sunday morning. Shabbat shalom.
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December 2022
I'm guessing I'll have it all figured out by the time I turn 30.
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