It's cold. My "sausage" toes are digging farther under the couch pillows with each passing minute.
I find myself home on this Texas morning, a random Tuesday in the middle of an otherwise normal week. A weekend's ravage of illness has tired this body out and I've opted for some quiet moments in my home, BBC droning on about antiques and a dishwasher humming through a rinse cycle.
There are so many things on my mind for this year. So many hopes, prayers, plans, intentions. I love how the New Year brings out such inspiration from everyone. People seem to be resolving, promising, hoping and dreaming everywhere I turn.
So I feel my own inspiration. We are changing habits this year, more specifically, this month. I am slapping myself on the wrist and for the sake of my and my children's future, we're making some unorthodox plans. To give you a hint, my bedside book (besides fiction) has been "The Handbook of Vintage Remedies". I feel inspired, angered, disappointed, and more than anything else, compelled to change.
This week, I'll begin a new Bible reading program recommended from a friend. Something I have never done, but I hope will bring some new light to my foggy days.
New projects fill my hallways. Various ceramic knobs arrive from Colorado to fit a thrift store find. Blank canvases are stacked against a bare wall with Spring art shows on the horizon. A little munchkin follows my every move, "reading" what she can, "helping" where she can, and I'm learning that this parenting thing hasn't even started yet to get deep, hard and beautiful.
God — give me the grace to do only that which You ask me to do. As for everything else? Give me the good sense to let it go.