All manner of cardboard boxes
Good morning from frosty, cloudy Vermont. Some days are just right. Yesterday I traveled to Montpelier to meet with two sets of friends. Remember Sarah McLachlin’s lyric, “Joy and happiness surround you?” That’s what it was like with them, with even a few tears sprinkled in.
Today is the start of a full and crazy week. I’m trying to hold this fact lightly, and also welcome the calm, mysterious wait of Advent to support my back. Yes our home looks as if some gusty gale swept through, dumping all manner of cardboard boxes and upturning every piece of household gadgetry. Yes the tree ornaments are still in storage tubs, taking massive amounts of floorspace. My music for our Christmas Day carol sing lies in messy sheets on our coffee table. All that is true. But there’s also that underlying deep breath kind of feeling that all is well, and all will be well.
I get to visit with my mom this morning before heading to the library for work. Most of the time, it’s just the two of us, and we talk about everything, from the antics of the turkeys who visit her feeder, to our deep, intricate questions about life and faith. And she tells me who has visited her lately, so I catch up on family news. Crazy as the week ahead might be, I’ve got my mother to help dispel my anxiety about it. She’s my lucky penny.
A note about my manuscript. My sister finished reading it. She loved it except for one specific word, and suggested strongly that I change it. I’m taking it under advisement.
Check back next week for another segment of Finding Home.