Morning Squall
It is Grace to be clear-headed during a rainstorm.
I woke up this morning thinking about a mistake I’d made weeks ago – something trivial, regarding an email … and to whom it was and was not sent. Why do I wake up that way?
I lingered on that question. I shared it with S during breakfast (her face brightened by how it faced the sharp light of an incoming storm, her profile sharpened by a wall painted golden orange behind her).
I continue to linger over the question, over questions. There is much anxiety within. About what, I’m not sure.
Also this morning: a son explodes with joy at the loss of another tooth. I share time at breakfast with another son, as the rainstorm – once distant – now approaches our shore. We watch the outline of the incoming rain overtake boats, then our swimming area, then the beach. Then we feel the mist of rain splatters in our faces.
I am clear-headed, and thankful to be so.
Yes, unanswered questions remain. But the journey is good. Good.
Unanswered questions are good. Remain in the present. Listen to the still small voice.