For some odd reason I keep posting late at night. My days are so full of life and learning that despite the lateness of the hour at which I finally reach my bed, my mind is still alive with thoughts and the urge to share them.
Today began gently, with a quiet waking at seven, and the sound of my feet crossing our wooden floors as I went to Mom's room to weigh myself, hoping the nearly two weeks of fasting from my favorite things had succeeded in some loss of poundage. I lifted myself onto the scale and stared down at the waving needle. I shook my head for a moment and rearranged myself, waiting to see it move, telling me I'd lost nothing. But it didn't. It lay quiet where it was. I had! I had! I had lost some weight! Yes, it was a mere five pounds, but enough to make me smile broadly with the joy of it.
I slipped downstairs to a cup of warm Earl Grey tea and a long awaited slice of dark, moist, flavor infused zucchini bread and a page of War and Peace.
Then Mom, Johanna and I laid out our sewing and slipped into the gentle cycle of cutting, pinning, and the whir, whir, whirring of the sewing machine. I was cutting neck binding for a nightgown for Grace, and adding a wide stripe to the bottom of the gown for length, smiling at the effect of the pink floral fabric against the green gingham. The advent of Johanna from the sewing room, shrouded in the soft, floral bodice of her old fashioned nightgown, brought more happy, excited sighs from Mom and I, my eyes seeing the full picture, complete with the floor length skirt flowing from the delicacy of the loose bodice.
Lunch slipped in with the scent of fresh bread, and ripe, red tomatoes sliced in bright rings of scarlet loveliness. The cheese, between the folds of my slice of warm bread, touched my taste buds with its country simplicity.
In the afternoon, with my sewing finished, I lay on my bed to sleep away the weariness my body felt from the late nights and early mornings that had been crowding in around me like weeds in upon a rosebush.
We went to a birthday party this evening, at the city pool. I still can feel the warm, wet weight of Matthew on my back in the water, his life jacket pressing against me, and his laughter filling my ears as I bounced through the shallow water on my toes, laughing with him. Now I am lying in bed, my face clean, my hair still slightly damp, and the echoes of a new song filling my head, the high sound of Samuel's guitar and the words God laid upon me....
You made me, like a painting. I am a work of art.
You stained me, with the crimson, power of Your heart.