I swung open the front door last night and caught a big whiff of autumn glory . . . the first such whiff in three years. And it was WAY good.
Autumn comes more slowly in the central valley of California, but it is beginning to come in glory. And with it, a deep sigh. A sense of settling. A reminder that life might sometimes feel a little bit normal when one has some faint roots growing in the soil.
It’s been two months since we moved into our little town home just down the street from school, and I think I expected the magic of home to be immediate. I think I forgot that settling takes time, that roots must GROW they don’t just materialize.
Now the sigh, now the remembering. How good it feels to have things to look forward to, even the small things. How dear an emotion anticipation is. The joy of knowing, through the week, that Sunday after early service will bring crepes and cappuccino breakfast and the slow unwind of Sunday brunch and early afternoon. The exultation of Thursday evenings when the longest days of our week in schools are over and we come back together for meat and potato meal and joyful music and laughter. The goodness of Ugandan food, cooked over our American stove each Wednesday night, praying the Webale Yesu prayers together and dancing to Local African radio music.
Tuesdays bring Kajukenbo for Quinn and David and girl night for me and the Nome. Mondays are date days, coffee and bagels and conversation, pool and foosball and ice cream sundaes at Leatherbys. Saturdays are a dance of glory, waking up a little later and reading our hearts full together before the kids jump into friend time and we yardsale and we explore and we have adventures and we finish leftovers and we enjoy to the fullest out one day without deadlines tardy passes . . . . . 🙂
All four of us, beginning to enjoy school, making new friends, learning amazing new things, starting new adventures with God, becoming a part of a new tribe. It’s good. And it’s autumn. And we’re beginning to feel all-the-way-alive again after 13 months. . . . . hard to believe it’s only been a year and a month since the world changed overnight. And here we are. Somewhere we never expected to be. Again. And there’s Hope. A lot of Hope.
As our pastor likes to say, “God is in good mood. He’s never had a bad day in his life!” And I think I’ll take some of that . . . . . we’ll call it JOY.