This is my perch. Can you see it? The speck of blue peeking through the trees?
Hiding behind those rocks and plants is my secret spot in the corner of the yard, where I can hide from even those approaching the front door (if I’m quiet enough).
Don’t ask me why I told Bryan to repaint that table bright blue. Our beloved retro (code for old and falling apart) house is spattered with dark brown, tan, cream, army green, and red brick. (Someone was not thinking this through.) But when he phoned me from the store, that was the color that formed on my lips. And here is the table, contrasted with the greens and grays of our zen garden. (I really will do a photo tour of our place… someday.)
Today is Thursday — BEST club sports day. I begged Bryan, and he woke the little two up from naps and packed them along to hang in the sunshine while the college students play soccer. They had vaccinations; I canceled them. Ezra was more than relieved, as the idea had been tormenting him since breakfast. Jones was planning on coming home from school to an empty house for 20 minutes (his dream) and playing iPod until we got back. I’m faking the empty house from my chair, waiting to see him walk up the stairs.
During naptime, I made a list: “Things I used to suck at, that I don’t suck at anymore.” It included items like “vacuuming the dining room daily” and “waking before everyone to pray”. I also wrote down “fighting fear” and “speaking Japanese” and “surviving without a dishwasher”, as well as a few more savory items I’d rather not post to the blog. 😉 It made me proud to think of the ways in which I have grown. I sometimes fall into the trap of thinking that the narrow road should be easy, and if its not, then the fault lies with me. This is not how Jesus described it.
There is another list inside me that is something like, “Things I want to be second nature, but aren’t quite yet.” This list has “feeling loved by God” and “reacting with grace”. It also has “worry” and “pouring a beautiful cappuccino” and “letting my kids be kids”. (I used to think I was pretty good at that last one, but with three of them, it just got harder to let them be kids. Kids are too loud. I want to improve on this.) “Laughing at my faults” is written there, too.
Perhaps I will start with the faults of my house, and then move onto myself. I can see them all quite clearly from my perch. The sun is angled perfectly on the morphed and warbled paneling (yes, paneling) spread onto the underside of my foot-long eaves. (This deserves a picture.)
Yes, let’s begin with my house.