Photo cred: Urban Rose Photo
"Usually when I can't find something, I just automatically pray," Myra says. "I did that with my writing book." She flattens her lips. "Then I found it." Her eyebrows arc pulling the corners of her mouth up.
"Hmm. Yep," I say. The kitchen a flurry, children popping popcorn, some gathering bowls and salt and melting butter, I pause. "God takes care of us," I say. She follows me like a kite tethered around my elbow.
Photo cred: Urban Rose Photo
"God knows what we need," she says. "We just have to ask."
"Yep," I say. "Where is the good salt?" I ask.
The swirl and clatter of whriley-pop spluttering, iron skillet scraped across stovetop, butter bubbling, popcorn bowl clanging, white Corelle bowls jangling, the stack lean-leaning -- salt? No one notices. So I stop.
"What was it you were looking for, again?" I say, Myra still bobbing at my elbow, memorizing me.
"Oh," she says, "when I prayed I was looking for my writing book, and another time I was looking for my shoe, and lots of other things too, but I can't remember."
Photo cred: Urban Rose Photo
"Oh," I say and memorize the ease of her sentences laid down like rail track, perfectly strait transport, and her moon-face telling me the story of God, self-evident, perfect God. We just have to ask, framed by rapturous acceptance of the lost shoe and the lost book and the lost everything, every one a doorway where God may appear.
Gratitude:
6597. "Mom," Myra says, "do you think I could stay outside a little bit longer? We are in the middle of a baseball game, and I got to second base on my first try. And, and, I was sooooo wishing..."
6598. Spring arrives. Moist soil and winter-fermented leaves permeate the air.
6599. The children play ball.
6600. "Kindergarten, first, and second grade," Jane says, "are really just about learning a work ethic. Pretty much everything else can be learned at any time."
Photo cred: Urban Rose Photo
6601. We plant and transplant. Craig completes the second greenhouse. It's double the size of our first, plus some. Everyone helps.
6602. The children shovel 1050 gallons of horse manure for a friend.
6603. I begin reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer's The Cost Of Discipleship.
6604. "I think it's amazing that the creator wants to actually know us not just what we can do," Jack says.
6605. We complete another year of wrestling.
6606. The children go fishing with Craig.
6607. Joe turns seven.
Photo cred: Urban Rose Photo
6608. "Sometimes in the morning," Betsy whispers to Myra, "Daddy takes his shirt off and he as FEATHERS in his armpits."
6609. Spring settles in. We perch in it's branches.
Photo cred: Urban Rose Photo
