It's June, and as much as I'd love to sleep late this morning before going to Mass and then to work (again) the siren call of the birds forced me out of bed. These are the days I love best of all the year. The sultry hot days of summer hold absolutely no interest for me, and I am consulting with the Vatican about having the inventor of air-conditioning canonized. But the mornings when the birds are doing their thing and the breeze is blowing and I'm parked with a cup of tea on the chair on my front porch and wondering if I should go get a jacket...sheer bliss!
There was a dream last night of a dear friend long gone, and it was so clear that it made me wonder if it were a "visit", so I've been puzzling out the images since I woke, and not making a lot of progress. Dreams like that put me in a strange space the next day. I feel as though I have one foot in each world, and as I think about that phrase I realize that I spend a lot of time like that. I feel the hidden presence of so many people. They are no longer within hugging distance, yet they are there, popping into my consciousness at the strangest times and making themselves known. Sometimes they feel so close I almost catch them in my peripheral vision, then the moment vanishes and the echo in my heart tells me that I'm alone again.
Still, this world, even with its gaping holes, is looking attractive this morning. I'll throw the second load of wash in the machine and make myself breakfast while Himself runs twelve miles around the neighborhood. And one of these days I'll re-join my Advance Team and the party will be glorious.
But first there is so much work still to do.
There was a dream last night of a dear friend long gone, and it was so clear that it made me wonder if it were a "visit", so I've been puzzling out the images since I woke, and not making a lot of progress. Dreams like that put me in a strange space the next day. I feel as though I have one foot in each world, and as I think about that phrase I realize that I spend a lot of time like that. I feel the hidden presence of so many people. They are no longer within hugging distance, yet they are there, popping into my consciousness at the strangest times and making themselves known. Sometimes they feel so close I almost catch them in my peripheral vision, then the moment vanishes and the echo in my heart tells me that I'm alone again.
Still, this world, even with its gaping holes, is looking attractive this morning. I'll throw the second load of wash in the machine and make myself breakfast while Himself runs twelve miles around the neighborhood. And one of these days I'll re-join my Advance Team and the party will be glorious.
But first there is so much work still to do.
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