When I first sit down by the fireplace, all the shopping carts of my mind crash about every which way. Eventually, one by one, they find their place, quiet down. As the busy stuff dissipates, the memories come. A lot of our family time is spent right here in this space, playing games, reading books, shooting nerf guns, lots of laughs, wrestling, tickling, occasional disputes, kids snacking after dinner, then snacking again before bed. Then one last chat on pillows, prayers from mom and dad, and the drifting away into dreams worth sharing over breakfast.

It’s not about what I feel. It’s not about what I know. It’s not about who I am. It’s not about what I can grasp. It’s not about needing or wanting. It’s not about leading or deferring. It is patience, which is learned from God’s Spirit. It is obedience and availability, the tests of faithfulness. It is the symphony, tapestry, and feast. The Word approaches. I am at rest. I am not alone. I am surrounded and filled. I want nothing. I lack nothing. The weight. The depth.

Just breathe. Don’t leave.