Late Night Rumblings on Grace and Hope and Love

It is late. The wind is howling outside, swirling all around the house. Cars are rushing up and down the street. Inside, it is rather quiet, except for the fans--always it's the fans disturbing the serenity of the stillness. I can handle it. If I turn off the fan next to me, undoubtedly the loudest of the two that are spinning, the computer will fail because the power source fan is busted. Maybe I should turn it off...(I must persevere.)

I walked around my yard tonight and looked at the flowers and vegetables that are growing. Rain has been helpful lately--scratch that, rain is always helpful. The soil is moist, the plants are nourished, the grass is green where it is normally, at this time of year, brown and prickly. I love the feel of soft, lush green grass under my bare feet. (It feels like grace.)

My son has been gone all week at his aunt's house. I miss him terribly tonight. I will see him tomorrow and not a minute too soon.  I will pass each minute, each mile, each mile marker with anticipation and increasing joy because with each passing minute or mile or marker I will be that much closer to seeing him again. (It sounds like hope.)

I laughed with my other sons tonight while we watched a movie. They squealed with delight over the simplest jokes--jokes that I found pedantic and rich with cliche. But we laughed because it made sense to laugh. I wanted to watch a scary movie tonight. I'm glad we laughed together. Laughing was definitely the right thing to do tonight. (It was very much togetherness.)

We finally cleaned the garage this evening. A filthy mess it was. We threw away (placed nicely in our curbside garbage trolley) a bunch of, well, garbage. We have room for bikes, and the grill, and a work-bench, and other essential things. We can walk through without stubbing a toe or driving a nail through the rubber soles of our shoes or our bare feet. I despise clutter and sometimes I work very hard to clean out the clutter because if I do not I start to shake with anxiety. Scary. (I think that is called sanctification.)

I bought my wife binoculars tonight. Nothing fancy. Nothing expensive. Nothing powerful--I don't want her looking at that handsome fella down the road! She wants to look at the birds that assemble for breakfast, lunch and dinner and frequent snacks at our fast food bird feeders. (If only we could keep those squirrels out of them.) The birds are exquisite and Renee thoroughly delights in informing me every time she discovers a new species. She saw a species of woodpecker today or yesterday--she told me about it around 6:30 a.m.  (It's called love for sure.)

We have a guest at our house this evening. A girl. She is sleeping on the couch because her house was being flea-bombed. She needed a place to stay and we are conveniently located and satisfactorily fun. She watched a movie with us, enjoyed a rootbeer float, and ate some McDonald's fries too. She is sleeping now--she took my warm blanket. We're not heroes or anything supernatural like that. Just friends. (That is being a neighbor.)

My brother is coming in this weekend. He has his sons with him and we will travel to meet him tomorrow so grandma can get their pictures taken at Wal-Mart. My brother will soon be going back to Iraq. I don't want him to go, but he chose and was chosen for the life of a Marine. I will miss him and pray for him. I will only see him for a couple of days--but it will be worth it. My other brother lives in Colorado. I pray for him; I miss him. I wish he were near--in spirit and in the flesh. Right now we are separated by more than just distance. I cry for him more than I miss him. Brothers. Now there is a novel idea that I hope no one tries to improve upon. (They call this family.)

A friend stopped by today. He and his wife dug up some rose bushes in their back yard and thought we might want them. Did we ever! We talked and shared. I had nothing to give him. I am always so much more blessed than a blessing. I cannot wait to plant the rose bushes and watch them grow. Every time I do I will think of the one who gave them to us. (I will be thankful.)

I guess I had more to write about than I originally thought. Actually, I have more, but my eyes are getting sticky and I want to do some reading and maybe some sleeping. I have so much to be thankful for. I hope you do to.