We slept in a little this morning, let sunlight sifting through the sheers stir us gently into waking. When I took Bonnie out, the dew was still cool on the grass, giving the morning a scent of green, lapping at my too-long pajama pants until the bottoms were soaked clean-through. We had some friends over last night and there was laughter dished around the table and good stories poured out like wine. Standing in the aftermath this morning, with grass tracked over the floors I just cleaned and a dishwasher overflowing … the memory of a full house feels like a prayer. And I think it again, how we were made for each other.
We were made for community and it’s easy for me to forget because the way I live so much inside of my head most days. I’m happy that way, for the most part—always have been. It’s hard work to make room for others, when you’re worried about how old the carpet looks and how the flower beds need a good weeding and how all they’d have to do is peek through that door to see just how far behind you are on the laundry.
But this morning, echoing in my mind are the conversations shared in the soft glow of candlelight and I feel it in my bones: this kind of prayer is worth the hard work.
Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him. Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us:
The Playdates button: