February 7, 2012

• I Wonder

  I wonder what it would be like to be Princess Kate, practicing my royal wave.  Or attending an elegant charity ball.

   

  I wonder what it would be like to see this lighthouse from a cottage by the sea.

   

  Or to build a beautiful sand castle today.

   

  I wonder what it would be like to breakfast in this kitchen.

   

  I wonder what it would be like to be flying to Jamaica to see my daughter like Dorcas Smucker is doing.

  *************************************************************************

  I wonder what it would be like to be caught in the unrest of Syria today. (Syrian refugees below)

   

  Or to be one of these Somalian ladies.

   

  I wonder what it would be like to be that dad in Pennsylvania who just lost his young

  wife to cancer.

  Or my neighbor who recently came through colon cancer treatment.

  Or my good friend whose husband can’t come home for weeks at a time.

  I wonder what it would be like to be the victim of sex trafficking.

  Or to be going through drug withdrawal.

  I wonder what it would be like….

  and I really have no idea.

  *********************************************************

  This morning there are tomatoes cooking on my stove.  Procrastinator Luci is finally making juice from last fall’s tomatoes that I put into the freezer instead of doing them up as they got ripe. They’re sorry little things, victims of a rainy July. They ripened on the sunroom counter instead of in the garden–like all good little green tomatoes do in Alberta because frost comes too early to have many sweet vine-ripened ones.  I have been putting this job off for ages.

  The mad school rush was as mad as usual.

  Natalia had a little meltdown because the butterfly I drew for her to embroider is TOO BIG.

  Our brown dugout water and the stains it causes make me very cross.

  It feels very cold outside after so much mild weather. 

  My need to organize and dejunk the house is really weighing me down.

  Liesl just fell over a toy tractor and nearly brought down the house with her cries.

  But the sun is shining.

  There are chocolate covered malt balls and mixed nuts in the pantry.

  The children are unspeakably  healthy.

  I bought one pink and one grey scarf last evening for $2 apiece.

  My heart is full with the love of faraway and nearby friendships.

  Dan makes breakfast and is always home with us at night.

  And though there may be places I’d rather be today,

  I will make this kitchen an altar of thanksgiving

  and I will Pray for and Remember and Intercede for

  THE MANY

  who would give a lot

  for a life like mine.

  • 12:27 pm
  • 15 Comments