He is going to work each day, riding ocean waves and scaling mountains. Our boys are running through their early years, scooping up all they can. I am in the kitchen and driving to the grocery. I am nursing the baby and painting canvases. I am walking in the mystery of God, and I am trying to understand how to love broken people through all my brokenness.
We are holding each other with this one life. We are holding on tight. And we must let go each day.
I sit with cold tea in hand and a phone that scared me to death and brought me back to life. I sit wondering like Mary Oliver…
“I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.”
She says she knows how to pay attention though, how to fall down, how to kneel down and be idle and blessed.
Do I know any of this?
All I know is that when they return home tonight, I will keep on trying to love them as I have always been meaning to.
And I will fail.
And I will pray gratitude for every second chance the new morning light brings.
I will give thanks that we Jesus people live ever in the second chance.
* The Broken Way by Ann Voskamp
**from The Summer Day by Mary Oliver
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This article originally appeared at Sharon’s blog.
