I love my purse. I know it sounds sort of superficial, but it is true I do love it. It comes with a story, which most everything I do, purchase or experience does.
About this time last year, my hubby John and I were on one of our quarterly mini-moons, and as usual I was on the hunt for the perfect bag. John was sitting in chair after chair as I tried on purse after purse. He doesn’t understand trying on something you carry, but you know what I am talking about. A purse has to match my curves. That night we went back to our KC apartment with no new purse.
And the next day the quest began again, until John uttered those green light words, “let’s just go to the coach store and get a purse and stop all this trying on, purchasing one dissatisfying bag after another, and this incessant hunting!” Those weren’t his exact words, but that is what he meant.
What a wonderful idea! This was not my strategy. I was not trying to wiggle him into this declaration. But I was in complete agreement. And so we went.
Here I am. A new season. Now what? Oh sure I knew it was coming. I knew all those people would leave. Sometimes I prayed they would leave and sometimes I wanted to leave (insert any story about sibling rivalry here). But today they are gone. All gone. Grown up, starting families, and careers. Adults. I will not be one of those who says where did the years go, because I know where they went. I lived every single one of them. It doesn’t go fast, it just goes. As time has a way of doing.
Today I’ve got two pots of soup cooking as I write. One loaf of bread in the last stage of baking and another ready to take its place. One strawberry cake to make and I’ll be ready for them to descend on our kitchen. There will be more people than my kitchen can hold and the noise level will rival any college stadium on any given Saturday. It’s hard to imagine that any one hears anything as they all talk at once. The food will be devoured bite by bite in between stories and laughter. I’ll clear the dishes and make the coffee and the visit will continue in the den with a game on (it is fall here and there is always a game on when it is fall). And then like they always do, they will leave. And John and I will slip into jammies and watch a little TV and enjoy the quiet.
If you missed October 5th post run back and read. It’s just 700 words, I’ll wait. Done?
There is a rhythm of travel and for those who learn to go with the rhythm travel is much easier. There are many who try to go against those rhythms and they are the people in the airport who shove stewardesses (yes I’ve seen it), cuss out ticket agents (yes I’ve heard it) and make fools of themselves! And guess what the situation doesn’t change. Late flights are late, you are not going to change that. The only thing you can do is embrace the rhythm and move with it, not against it.
It is the same in life. Life has a rhythm. It has ups and downs, straight aways and curves, hills and valleys. Sometimes it is smooth sailing and sometimes you hit every red light. And guess what? You are not going to change the rhythm of life, However you can change your response to the rhythm.
I travel. Probably more than the average bear. And with these travels I have discovered many things. I have seen most of it (it would be a bit extreme to say I’ve seen it all).
People checking in-this is a time and a place that many forget what they learned in kindergarten, how to form a line. When left to ourselves our line appears to be a cluster, with the occasional traveler pushing his or her way to the front. This is usually the result of lack of experience, impatience, or fear. The rhythm of travel.
Over weight luggage is one of my favorite moments. There’s such shock and disbelief on the face of the accused. The conversation goes something like this:
Let’s be honest, some mornings, many mornings, okay MOST mornings, it seems to be a herculean effort to just walk over pick up the bible and spend 15 minutes reading, listening, worshipping, praying. Why is this? I easily open my phone and begin watching the lives of others through social media. I answer emails as if they have a short fuse and will self-destruct if I don’t get to them immediately.
But the very thing, the very words, the very small time investment to start my day off correctly seems to be the most impossible. This one step of obedience is the hardest to take.
Well if you are like me, I hope to help. Here I am in your social media stream, hoping to interrupt you with a bit of information your heart truly desires…the truth.