In This Place

            Doing dishes, I look out the window at the familiar scene.  My wild, climbing rose bush has bloomed.  Last week’s storm tipped the tall thorned stems so the top pinks face downward instead of reaching to the eaves.  The driveway is littered with pollen and twigs, the house and yard across the street lovely with its landscaping.  Next to it (number 521 to my 520) sits the comforting sight of my daughter and son-in-law’s red brick house, van and car parked in their usual driveway spots.

            At this moment, the peace of being where Jesus wants me to be floods my soul.  Such a simple, quiet life.  My son with me, my daughter’s family across the street.  The three grandchildren, ages 9, 5, and 2 ½, with baby on the way this month. 

            This week, God has been telling me last week’s sermon.  I called it my Mother’s Day “non-sermon” because it had no preaching points to make but only spilled vulnerability from this mother’s heart.  It was about listening to the Holy Spirit speak in the daily and trusting Him when I am weak.  Since then, He has opened up four insights in my daily devotional readings, perfect in their timing:

            He reminded me to give Jesus my burdens.  My shoulders cannot bear them; His are strong and capable for the task.  He told me to look for him in hard places in my life and I would find Him.  He showed me something new:  that I should never covet the past instead of gratefully accepting the present.  And through the intersection of an image from a novel and a devotional reading, He assured me that He is the glorious open gate that invites and draws hearts to Him.

            The dishes are done until tomorrow.  The roses still gracefully bend down toward earth.  My view out the kitchen window remains the same.  And I am blessed in this place.