Weekend Thoughts

There's something most delightful about turning off the office lights and locking the door on Friday afternoon.

It's a simple act that ushers in the weekend, all full of glorious anticipation.

First, it's dinner in the dining hall with the fam (and usually hanging out at their place afterward).

I told Ezra we should take a picture of his mohawk and send it to Kai (who - back in the day - was rarely seen without one).

Not entirely enchanted with the above face he gave me, I asked him to smile.

So he gave me his usual hilariously cheesy grin.

That kid.

- - -

Yesterday Angèle and I had a chat for the first time in nearly a month.  Sometimes I get off the phone and marvel just a little at how we - two women who grew up an ocean apart and who don't share the same mother tongue or culture - could somehow wind up being such close confidantes.  And yet we are.  It's a miracle, a gift of friendship and God's grace, something worth treasuring.

- - -

I made coffee in my french press this morning and then lost track of time.  When I walked back out to the kitchen, I could just hear my grandma saying, "That coffee is so strong it's going to walk right off the counter!"

The house got a thorough cleaning today - thorough meaning I dusted this time.  It's my least favorite household chore, but it must be done sometimes.  Somehow the job stretched on the entire day, in part because I decided (for once in my life) to steadfastly ignore the voice of hurry.

I pulled books off the shelf and paged through them while I was dusting.

The wind rattled bare branches and my neighbors' wind chimes.  I mentally noted one advantage of cloudy days - the windows look cleaner.

My friend sent me this article, which rolled around and around in my mind as I cleaned and sorted laundry and peeled carrots.

Clarity can be a nicer word for control.

Oh, how often I have begged God for clarity and answers...

Maybe I'm worshiping clarity rather than Christ.

Suppose, though I want answers, what can really satisfy me is Christ Himself?

Christ Himself, through the fog, the shadows, the forked roads, the silence.  Suppose He is actually enough for me this moment, tomorrow, and forever?