Sunshine

I'm generally a rain and snow type of girl.  There's precious little I enjoy quite like a good storm and a window through which to watch it.  I've never been very heat tolerant and my un-tannable skin is just as happy to spend most of its time under cloud cover as well.  But yesterday, I spent a few minutes sitting out on my uncovered front porch, leaning back against the side of the house, and soaking in a clear, blue sky.  The cool of autumn has finally gotten here and had sunken itself into my toes and as I listened to the distant sound of my daughter wailing in her crib, I found myself thinking about the sun and thinking, 'this is perfect.'

Because I have to admit that yesterday was just one of those days.  There were no peaceful naps at the regular times or at any others, for that matter, and subsequently, the bed remained unmade, the laundry was still in haphazard piles all over the floor, (not to mention  a load more wadded up in the dryer, the door of which I didn't even get around to closing until late afternoon or early evening) the clean and dry dishes didn't move from their perch on my counter top, and I could go on.  On top of everything, I had a grouchy girl who insisted that she needed to be held at all times and I was expecting company for dinner that night.

Really, it was one of those days where you almost break down and burst into tears, half because you don't know what to do, and half because you want to, because crying would be a good way of letting off some steam and of convincing yourself that you should cuddle up with a good book and some hot chocolate.  I didn't even realize that I was at that point until about three in the afternoon, right in the midst of another failing nap.

Then began a series of tender mercies - I don't know what else to call them - or at least, then I began to notice them.  The first thing that really shook me out of feel-sorry-for-myself mode was a text I got that read "Hkmhujiiiohjjkkllppp" (I pulled out my phone to make sure that I was quoting it right).  I soon found out that a one-year-old, sixteen miles away, had just sent her first text.

I also got a text from my husband about that time.  Actually, I got a few.  I usually don't get text from him while he's at work, mostly because he's not so big on texting, so it was a special treat to get one from him, telling me that he loved me more than his sandwich.

And finally, there was the package that I remembered in the car, that my mom had sent and which I hadn't gotten a chance to open in the hurry of putting a certain little someone down for a nap.  She had told me that she would be sending us some odds and ends of ours that she had found, as well as a Halloween costume, but it's always fun to open a package, right?  Even if you already know what's in it.  Inside, I found a costume, a Halloween decoration, the aforementioned odds and ends, and then a little bag of candy, a grown-up treat that she must have known I'd be too cheap to buy, and a souvenir she had thought to get for me on a recent trip back east.

It's amazing how little things like that can give me the nudge I need to make or break my day.  As I listened to the continual sound of 'I'm still  not asleep, Mom, and I'm still not happy about it,' began browning hamburger and opening a can of pumpkin, I realized that I was suddenly feeling rather grateful.  It's a heavy feeling sometimes, not heavy like carrying a sack of rocks around, but like the heaviness of a thick wool blanket that makes you feel secure and takes your body heat to feed it back to you.  It's a delicious, heaviness, a be-still heaviness.

During moments like that, I realize that God isn't so far away from us.  It was one of those times when I thought, 'if I were a poet, this would be a good time to write a poem,' one of those times when, if I didn't feel such a heavy stillness, I would have sung all of my favorite songs.  And I thought, 'I'm thankful for little things, like texts.  And candy.  And my mom.  And pumpkin.  And my non-napping daughter.  And families.  And sunshine.'