One of Gary's Uncles drops off an article he has had since 1974.
It is an article about Gary and the farm.
I sit and read this old news.
Gary is 18.
The age our son never saw.
Funny how pieces of the past draw you in.
Popovers and Oatmeal for breakfast this morning.
Elijah did not like popovers.
I can't remember how he felt about oatmeal.
I always had to ask the kids to remind me what they liked.
I walk out of the bedroom.
It is warm.
We have heat in the house.
Such little things.
Yet so important.
I listen to the messages on the phone.
I decide to listen to the saved messages.
The first, is mom.
I sigh when I hear her voice.
She was just checking in.
Now, she resides with the King of Kings.
The next is the message from the State Trooper's dispatch asking us to go to the door.
There was a State Trooper waiting to talk with us the night of the accident.
The power had gone out so the phone never rang.
These 2 messages side by side. Representing time gone by.
I am not sure what the future holds.
Sometimes I do not want to know.
I am not sure I can take anymore.
Yet, I do not want to miss the path God has prepared for me.
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord,
“plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
I do not want to miss the grandchild soon to arrive.
So, while my heart is heavy.
I turn. . .
I have considered my ways and have turned my steps to your statutes.
I turn the oven on and make popovers.
I turn the stove on and cook oatmeal.
I turn the pages of my bible to seek the only counsel my heart needs to hear.
I turn the volume up on my phone to make sure I hear a phone call if Lilah is starting her journey.
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die. . .A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
What ever season you may be in, may you turn to the comfort of the word.
May you turn, to the arms that will never let you go.