“I hate summer. If I wanted to be hot, I’d move back to Texas. Heat ruins my lady-like disposition,” she said to no one in particular. Well, maybe she was speaking to the schnauzer, the schnauzer who may or may not have rolled her big brown eyes at the crazy mumbling lady.
She came home from work and her little home was like an oven. She reminds herself to be grateful in all things: job, roof over her head, food on the table.
Breathe.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The more she leaves behind clutter, simplifies life, the more peace fills her soul.
The closer to God’s creation, beautiful healing nature, as God surely intended, the more peace fills her soul.
She yields little by little, letting go, letting God.
It’s not complicated.
He provides everything.
She complicates everything.
Inhale.
Exhale.
“But I don’t make a pretty hothouse tomato, God. Just so you know.”
God patiently sighs.
“Child.”
Inhale.
Exhale.
Write a comment