He’s searching for her keys. We all are. In the middle of a house that is packed and unpacked depending on the day. Depending on what her 85 year old mind tells her. Some days she’s home. Other days she’s not.
He’s only 8. And so distracted. I can’t blame him. It’s a lot to take in.
I tell him to focus. Knowing he can’t. Knowing there are too many treasures to look at. Brush the dust off. Slip into his pocket.
The wind recently blew the roof off the barn. I can see it from her kitchen window. Then uprooted the tree by the pond.
Seems like everything in my original safe place is collapsing. Aging. Getting distracted. Forgetting original purpose and intention.
I’m like that too. Not much different than an 8 year old in a old house. Looking this way and that. Forgetting the mission. Collapsing like a barn roof.
Today will feel like an unending search for house keys if I miss the purpose. Misplace the mission.
It’s because of Him. Every breath I take. Every beat of my heart. Every stroke of my hand on her sweet cheeks. Or hand on his uncertain shoulder.
The treasures I choose to slip into my pocket are grace. They too are part of the mission. Pieces of life that remind me the journey is worth it. The laughs. The meals. The memories.
Today…here in our house of fresh minds and young thoughts…I choose to hold on to grace like it’s a wind away from disappearing. To open my hands and heart big and full and let grace wash over all of us.
To believe that God is only good and I am only loved. And the Gospel really is good news. In wandering minds. In questions unanswered.
“In him we live and move and have our being.” (Acts 17:28a)
God is enough. He loves you deep and wide. Distracted and focused. At home or work. With questions or answers.
We move forward because He moved toward us. And we rest in the grace of His mission when ours seems impossible.
(Oh outside…and mountain tube slides…you are grace to me!)