tonight i am dreaming of a small brick house in the country,
with a garden full of fruit and flowers,
and a lovely, light-filled kitchen from which
will come tastey things to eat.
tonight the quiet and crickets of that scenario entice me,
and i feel cozy at the thought of the solitude,
the sewing, the baking, the photographing, the reading,
the strolling through gardens in cool afternoons with clean air,
with my husband and children alone as company.
tonight it sounds attractive to have that space
to re-examine, to find our bearings, to perfect our love,
to bask and rest in the Father’s love without pressure to minister.
i am hard on myself to the extent that
even as i’m dreaming of this scenario i am
also judging myself for it’s sharp contrast to
the city life among the poor, with door open to homeless friends
(that picture i’ve thought that our life would be about).
it is odd to yearn for a thing so completely other than that,
and i wonder what my soul is asking me to pay attention to there,
what the Father might have to speak into that.
i am not too proud to change course, nor to do
something other than what i have always said that i would do,
because sometimes i make resolutions He hasn’t asked me to make, and
it’s possible such a move might be faithful to His nudges
(i will not rule out that possibility).