Friday, August 26, 2011
I got home earlier than I had planned today. After subbing up at the kid's school, I got to eat lunch with Will and then come home. While I drove in our driveway I couldn't help but noticing that things look a little forlorn around here.
Farmer Boy has been gone since the wee hours of Wednesday morning and that always make things lonely, but it's more than that.
We had some friends over last Saturday night for a bonfire. I haven't put the chairs away yet. They seem to be telling a story and I didn't want to interrupt. I imagine the story beginning on a cool Fall night. I see a lot of brown, gold, and maybe even red. There's a sense of something coming up, of a surprise just waiting around the corner. Friends, togetherness, community are strong themes in this untold story. Perhaps I'm just lazy. Maybe I should simply see chairs that need to be put away, but I'm not going to do that, not today.
Holly seems to be picking up on it. It's as if she knows the barn isn't right.
It's empty. Totally, completely empty. No pigs to scratch, no sheep jumping up on their pen to sniff hello, and no frothy mouthed black and white calves. Forlorn.
I have proof that they've been here, that the barn hasn't always been empty. If anyone ever refers to something as a pile of *@#$, now you have a picture to go with those descriptive words. Aren't you glad? See? It's good to read this blog. It's helpful.
I suppose we're waiting. We're waiting for Farmer Boy to come home. Waiting for cool nights with bonfires. Waiting for more baby pigs, cows and sheep, waiting for a barn full of life. We're waiting to get rid of a pile of you know what. Waiting. Expectant. Hopeful.
It may seem a bit forlorn today but as I sit here and think, I believe I missed something when I drove in. I missed hope. Never miss hope. Instead of seeing things empty, I'm going to see things as full of hope.
There. Now I feel so much better. Don't you?
In rest and repentance is your salvation.
In quietness and trust is your strength.
at 3:33:00 PM