It is another peaceful day in Gordon’s Bay. Wind blowing gentle, sometimes strong. Feeling weak and tired after a little Bear sprang up early like an over-eager alarm clock, I spent much of the morning moving slowly, doing little. High hormones or low blood sugar getting the better of me, at 10:30 I was teary-eyed and promptly sent back to bed by Hero Hubs.
A nap and a read and a lovingly prepared peanut butter and jelly sandwich — the stuff that beautiful days are made of.
A little taste of Pepsi in bed with a Chocolate Chip Cookie Bar, baked by that same wonderful Hubs when I mentioned cookies this morning — love that I can hold in my hands and savour on my tongue.
I am up and the Bear is down for a nap. Ropes clang against masts in the harbour, blinds occasionally clatter with windows in the wind. The wagtails outside remember us sharing crumbs with them weeks ago. One has returned to ask for more and is singing his request in the patio shade. He considers venturing into the dining room through open doors: with seven or eight hops he could be savouring a lonely cheerio a little Bear must’ve dropped from his bowl.
Ann Voskamp’s words find their way across the ocean, to South Africa, to Gordon’s Bay, to my screen, to my heart:
Doesnâ€™t urgency over everything imply that Godâ€™s in control of nothing?
My soul continues to learn to rest. To be still and know. To look for the glorious Creator in the bush aflame. In the bird with a song.
My joy is to smile and to wait.