...I am ensconced in a wicker chair in my sun room, every once in a while glancing around at the untidiness. George wrestles with things and scatters plant leaves and papers higgledy piggledy. I am wrapped in an ecru wrap against the morning's chill. My coffee cup is almost empty, there's more awaiting in the coffee pot in the kitchen. I read Joshua 6 this morning and I am preparing to pick up and read my daily Lenten devotional. The bird feeder has been restocked in sunflower seeds and I've made note that my husband needs to pick up another bag on his way home from work.
Early riser that I am, I have a little trail of routine rituals that accompany my morning. This little jotting was done about an hour after I had risen from my warm bed. Maybe I will share some of those "firsties" at a later time.
On the 26 of this month two years ago, my father passed away. We were caring for him here in my home and the eternal shapings this allowed in our lives were manifold.
