Going for a Drive
Cream colored and four muddy tires, his old truck drives best slowly. Music soft and low, framing the pace of life. A few miles down the coast clears the mind, especially if you have no particular destination. Just us four, a minnie nightgown and the cutest four-year-old toes to my right. A curly-haired, tenderhearted boundary pusher to my left. A man who has held my hand on our wedding day and after our worst fight, right here next to me.
Sickness had slowed us down. One, two, all of us down. Forgotten to-do lists, the noises shushed. Sipping broth and red noses, it was a month of slow. It's almost as if God was cutting off the extra; He wanted to show us each other. That when the world is loud and fast, we can have slow and meaningful. These two sets of eyes and hands won't be this little for much longer, they need to be snuggled now. There is the eerie calm in my heart now, just from slowing down.
I grabbed my foamy latte yesterday morning and felt it. People were angry and in a hurry. I wanted to rub out their shoulders and carry them to bed. My eyes communicating, "it's all going to be okay, I promise." Do you think the 65 year old grandpa would have been down?
I walked my 100-pound pup with my coffee in the crisp, late morning. I grabbed for my phone to make a call and put it back down. We strolled in silence and both understood we weren't in a hurry. It's something you can feel, the calm. Not one, but two butterflies flirted in the trees next to us. The sky, bigger than ever before, or have I just missed it's grandiosity?
Soft and honest, slow and intentional. It seems to be drawing me in, I hear my savior whispering, Be still, my child. Know I am God, I got this. Now let me rub your back by the fire.
Wishing you a big sky and a peaceful heart this weekend.