I am needy and hungry, wanting more. Seeking more satisfaction, more knowledge, more understanding, more input, more happy memories, while all the while so full of demands and responsibilities and ideas and the living of life that I could burst.
In the midst of this day with all of their asks and all of mine, I scroll Facebook and Instagram, read blogs I’ve missed. I underline chapter after chapter of these books, searching for insight and a way to make long obedience fast.
I am voracious, greedy for both growth and escape, yet stacked so high I feel I might topple.
I am filled and empty.
I slow to hear the fan overhead. Feel the heavy robe wrapped around my body, the feather weight of the blanket on my lap. Hush to hear the voice that calls the weary and burdened. I remember.
How the vaguely blue morning sky holds a summer day’s promise.
How the light and shadows of branches fell like lace.
How the river moved so slowly that in places it was near glass.
How our paddles dripped and carved art.
How the girls jumped off the side of the canoe, each doggy paddling her own fine line between courage and fear.
I pour out thanks.
I remember and am filled.