I'm here in my cozy home, pj's on, 3rd cup of coffee in hand and the kids are playing happily in their room.
Ok, so I'm not snowed in. I'm not even rained in. I'm cloud-ied in. It's not even in the 30's right now- or 40's for that matter, but it IS 50, and grey.
Don't judge. It's Saturday morning, and I'm feeling slightly under the weather (so to speak) and there is nothing more gorgeous than taking it slow in the mornings. With a veritable buffet of things to do, I sit at my computer and let them parade in my thoughts, eventually picking out of the line-up the most time-wasting and unprofitable. "Doing Laundry" and "Make the Grocery List" and "Getting the Kids to Clean Their Room" glide past gracefully, and wedged in there like a troup of clowns in a tiny car between the gorgeous and ornate floats comes "Sit Down on the Compy and Post Something Improvised." Clowns. Love them or hate them, but they win the grand prize in the Putzing Parade.
Today we live up to our middle-class status in all outward appearances. Pancakes for breakfast, video games in the morning, Emma has an ice skating party this afternoon at the mall, and I plan to take Bo to the game store during that time, and perhaps pick up an overpriced coffee while I wait. Sounds totally staid and un-thrilling.
Below the surface of this "normal Saturday" are the undercurrents of something richer. Something you have to take time and breath to sense and feel. A relaxing in the shoulders. The happy sound of children who have gotten off the tv and are creating worlds together. The trees chuckling and shaking in the wind. The sense of a Lord who is new each morning, and yet the Same. His joy permeating and changing everything.
My life is not what it appears to be. My life is what I am Living. If you pass me in the mall today, I'll raise my paper cup of mocha cappucino, and hope the riches that are stored up in you find their way to the surface of your day.
Here's to cloudy Saturdays.