"If the God you believe in as an idea doesn’t start showing up in what happens to you in your own life, you have as much cause for concern as if the God you don’t believe in as an idea does start showing up. It is absolutely crucial, therefore, to keep in constant touch with what is going on in your own life’s story and to pay close attention to what is going on in the stories of others’ lives. If God is present anywhere, it is in those stories that God is present. If God is not present in those stories, then they are scarcely worth telling." ~ Frederick Buechner

25 July 2011


I'm still going through this bout of sad loneliness, but the sun is shining cheerily this morning. I got up to let it in through the bedroom windows and then crawled back into bed, soaking in the warmth and light, reading my book, and listening to Nich's shower.

He came after he got dressed for work and nuzzled me with kisses before he left. Then he backed his car up just because, somehow, he knew I would be waiting at the bedroom windows for one last wave goodbye for the day.

The best miracle of it all is that Brennan is still fast asleep in his room, and it's nearly 8:00. I almost hesitate writing that down for fear I will jinx it all, and he won't ever do it again, or worse, wake up before I brush my teeth.

These are the sort of things I appreciate these days. Waking up and lying in bed - on my back - with no baby next to me. Brushing my teeth, putting up my hair, getting dressed in blissful silence. In those moments, I almost wonder if I resent motherhood, but then I tiptoe into the nursery and peer over the side of the crib at my sleeping boy and I fall in love all over again.

I read this from Song of Solomon (2:11-13) this morning: "See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance." This is the nugget of hope from God for me this Monday morning.

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