I sat on the porch swing this evening listening to David Gray and watching the cardinal couple dine at the feeder. Just as the sun slipped below the trees, I felt myself slipping, too, into worry about the future.
But right away I hit the brakes and scrambled back up to reality. It hit me that I was sitting in what used to be a future I worried about years ago. Over and over again, most likely.
And I was fine. Broke and unsure of what was ahead, but overall fine. At least in that moment, I sat on a porch swing of a dream-come-true home, healthy, knowing my kids are relatively okay and that I have friends and family and really, really good credit.
So I stopped worrying about what was around the next curve and just enjoyed those moments.
There's been so much going on, so little going on. Words are getting tangled up in my mind, but I'll try to give you an update...
Max barely ate last night. Didn't eat anything this morning. Stayed in his doghouse all day, refusing to go down to the pond with me and Belle for a swim this evening.
My heart was breaking. He's old, and I know it, but I hate having to face it.
I fixed his dinner and called him as usual, although I really didn't expect him to respond. But he did. And he actually ate almost all of his food. Sure, I held the bowl for him while he laid in his dog bed, but we do what we have to do, don't we?
And then he barked ferociously and ran off into the woods chasing something with Belle.
I was happy again.
It rained yesterday.
I didn't go out and dance in it, but I was tempted. I'm pretty sure my crape myrtles were dancing.
The sun came back out today, and I admit I was happy to see blue sky and fluffy white clouds. But I do hope the rain comes back soon.
Do you remember Haley, the neighbor dog with a heart of gold who was hit by a truck or something but survived because she's a rock solid pit bull?
Well, she's also a little creepy, too, like Cujo, in that you'll look up and she'll suddenly be sitting there, silently staring at you.
That's what happened this evening. But I was happy to see her because she doesn't actually live next door anymore. The son, her owner, flew the nest to a house of his own.
I've missed Haley. And I think she missed me, too. After I snapped this photo, she came over to see me, tongue hanging out.
Then she waded into our creek and ate some frogs.
Three pennies and a nickel sit on a shelf in my closet. Alone they wouldn't buy much, but they're worth more than their monetary value to me. Each one appeared on the ground in front of me a few weeks ago, whispering "In God We Trust" at a time when my heart was dragging behind me. Five coins in one week reminding me to trust God.
I heard "trust" whispered to me all that week from quotes, fortune cookies, songs, emails. Soft reminders that lifted my heart.
And then the next week, just when fear of the future began sprinkling seeds of doubt, everywhere I looked I read "Courage!"
...and love, the greatest of all.
On my quick trip this past Sunday to spend Father's Day with my sweet dad, I noticed this heart-shaped reminder resting on their front porch.
And then on the drive home...
...black-eyed susans and new grass flourished beside the charcoaled trunks of pine trees near Bastrop, victims of the fires that swept through last Labor Day weekend.
From the ashes, life arises.
Whispers of hope.
This is my command - be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. ~ Joshua 1:9
That's my week. How's yours going?