Four Hands and a Single Vine

Okay, it's been a while. Life got hectic, everyone knows how that goes, and then stress and all that. But at last it is 9:02 pm and I'm sitting quite comfortably sideways on my bed with my comforter and all my pillows squished up behind my head, laptop on my lap (duh, hence the name!) and feet propped on my four-legged stool, an excellent steal from storage. There are a million things I could be doing right now, such as cleaning my bathroom, tidying my house, doing the dishes, sorting paper bags of miscellaneous belongings, but I'm taking the time to relish in the early hour and to quiet my soul with the luxury of writing. It isn't often that one takes the time to really stop. To stop rushing through the busyness of life and feel calm. I think it's something we all crave, but feel guilty to prioritize. Yet the simplicity of a few quiet moments, like a stained wooden bookshelf whose only decorations are a lace doily, miniature clogs, homemade crayon candle, and purple wooden tulip, can create stillness in the midst of madness.

This shan't be much longer, though, as I was up before the crack of dawn to rush through rush-hour traffic for a dental appointment to replace a chipped crown. This afternoon we were in the prayer garden, raking leaves and snipping ivy, and I had the task of pulling dead leaves out of the ivy that surrounds the large trees. Dr. Jensen had stationed herself at the same tree and was happily pruning the overgrowth to eye level. Several of those branches were rather resilient, however, and when she tried to clip them, they refused to be broken. She asked for my help, but when my "young, strong" hands were unable to make a dent, we decided to attack the stubborn branches a different way. This time Dr. Jensen bent a branch while I sawed at it with the clippers, slowly increasing the pressure until finally it snapped. Together, two sets of hands made it work.

Now I look forward to my time outside, whether it be on the farm, in the garden, picking tomatoes or wildflower seeds, pruning ivy or raking leaves. I find myself waiting for the time to arrive, see the hours fly by, and while I regret it when 5:30 seems to roll around too quickly, I am also content to see a good work completed. In the office sometimes it seems like the paperwork piles up faster than I can make a dent in it, but out in the fresh air, with the fall sun warming the afternoon, all worries seem to melt away as I focus on the task at hand. I never imagined I would treasure those couple of hours each day, but I do, and I'm grateful I have the opportunity.