The end of things busy at the close of the day makes me feel wrapped up.  I love to get on my furry rainbow house slippers and my yoga pants and brew myself a brave cup of caffeine at that hour and take my chances of sleepless later.  Most nights I make my way up to my second story porch, where I feel the most “secluded”, up in the tree branches, and listen.  I pretend I’m somewhere in the wilderness, just me and the crickets, and tune out passing cars and neighbors’ windows.  I imagine myself with my hands in the dirt, breaking it up, getting ready for planting.  Or sitting by a fire outside.  Places and things that call for no talking, for just being with whoever you’re with….or no one at all.

The truth is, life?  It’s joys and surprises and good talks and hugs from kids?  I put my very all in it every single day.  And my heart needs to lie quiet at the end of it.  To call up my favorite “scenes”,  to tell Him truthfully how some things hit me harder than I act, to color over everything with His brush.  To settle myself in His lap and remind myself why any of it matters and all of it does.

So I sit quieter than you might expect, if you see me during the day all bubbles and smiles.  Because I need to come down off the ceiling and settle myself with His compass.  And sip my coffee just quietly.  And be….and wonder if anybody else feels this way.