A Day Of Rest

The windows are open, soft cool air stirs the sheer curtains, sweet potatoes and garnet yams are baking in the oven. "Chants" plays softly in the background. A steaming mug of maple tea beside me. The day feels normal, not rushed, slow and steady, ordinary....how wonderful a word, ordinary ! Signs of autumn in the gray clouded sky....sweaters, wool socks, wood stove burning brightly all in the near future, blessings, small and ordinary, yes that word again.
Its a day for cinnamon and apple smells.
Now that Mei-Ling is on her way home, I can sit back and reflect a bit, instead of just living off the cuff of each moment. I don't do well being out all the time, home is my haven, it is the place of comfort and immense joy, the kind that makes you feel "all is well." Not the exuberant kind of joy, but the deep abiding joy. The joy you know comes from a kind and loving God.
This whole morning feels a bit holy, even though its ordinary in so many ways. Perhaps in that is a great secret, to know that the ordinary contains holiness. These days folks are all out looking for some great emotional high in their religious experience, for me that feels odd, strange, uncomfortable. I feel the presence of God in the simple, the nearly silent moments, in the stillness of the day when I can hear his small still voice whisper to me, or when I can see the magnificent show of His love in what He has created for us and for His astounding passion for order and detail.
It is not the sabbath day, but it is a day of rest for me, a gift from above for a tired weary soul that hardly knows which way is up lately.
The cool air filling the room with freshness and a gentle renewal. God is indeed good.