Down the street a chorus of chickens cluck their throaty calls. Next door the rain runs off our neighbor’s gutter from the place where there’s no downspout and splashes into a muddy puddle. Out back the horse chestnut grove looks to have grown another six feet taller and wider since I last paid attention. Out front our peony bushes have exploded in glorious bloom.
Down the hall our girls sleep under quilts, across the hall my husband does. Downstairs our dog lays his chin on parallel paws.
In the quiet of this Sunday morning, I think and pray about those in this house, on these streets, stretching into more yards and across states and nations. I think about all the love and all the need, all the joy and all the loss and all the fear.
I think about their dreams, and mine.
About how we hold them like blown eggs, how we fight for them and deny them and receive them and let them go.
I think about the dreams of my childhood. To write books and paint, to help hurting people and love little kids, to swim with dolphins and cradle orangutans.
I think of this life we’ve been given. These days to live out and into. These daily grinds and to-dos and responsibilities and the pangs of compassion that interrupt us to act out the love we know.
I hold in my deepest places these children with whom I’ve been entrusted, consider the gift of raising and loving little humans with whom we dance and tangle and cradle and let go.
I think about dreams fulfilled and birthed right here in this imperfect house with its never-ending projects and its messy relationships and its ebb and flow of laughter and tears, boredom and contentment, misunderstandings and unspoken understanding.
This morning, among the clucking of chickens, rain dripping from a grey sky, house asleep, I give thanks to the One who holds it all and always has.
_______
Joining with Lisha Epperson (whom I’ve hugged and heard speak in her fantastic NY accent in real life and positively adore), as she begins her first week hosting the Sunday Community: Give Me Grace. Go visit there?
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
Dear Ashley
Oh, our Lord is the crux of any messy, loving and wonderful relationship. Your words sound so beautiful in this post. I sort of hear and see the chickens.
Blessings XX
Mia
I’ve missed you and have thought of you often over these last months. I’m looking forward to visiting “your place” soon. Cluck cluck, friend. :-)
Ashley,
Thank you for the boost of gratitude, the voice of thankfulness that is often lost in the mundane and pain of the day to day….
There is so much to be grateful for in our individual small lives.
Love you,
Angela
You are right. Gratitude can so often be lost in our days. Grateful for you — for our morning walk, for your listening ear and for all your love. Counting the gift of you right now.
What is about this post that makes me want to say a soft Amen, and then another one? So beautiful Ashley! (And just because writers kind of love to know this sort of thing, my favorite parts are in paragraphs 1 through 10.). Thank you for this! xox
1-10…that took me a second. So funny! Love you, Ma. Thank you for your words.
I just exhaled.
thank you~
It can be hard to believe that a little post like this could be for anyone but me. Grateful it caused you to breathe easier, friend. Thank you.
You craft such a rich picture and so does your Layla.
Thank you, love.
You know you’re speaking my language, and I’m breathing gratitude and wonder for the small and the larger-than-us, right along with you. And that this is linked up with “Give me grace”? That seems just about perfect for where you’re at. A beautiful inhaling-exhaling at the end of this week. So much love to you, Ash.
Isn’t that perfect, Amber? I thought the very same. Grace in, grace out. Thanks itself seems a sort of grace. Grateful for knit hearts and shared affection for the feathered ones. :-) Love you.
To have peonies growing in my yard… And to know the hush of a house before waking. All of this is so beautiful Ashley. Praising God for the simplicity of a life well lived and with you, giving glory to The One who holds it all together. Thanks for joining me this weekend at #GiveMeGrace
So glad you’re hosting, and I do love the name. Perfect, truly. Simplicity is an interesting nut — it’s what I want, and yet sometimes it can be so hard to receive with thanks. Working on that one. Grateful for you, Lisha.