Small

My favorite time of day is late afternoon, those two golden hours between when the kids get off the bus and I start dinner. I’m not even sure why this time is my favorite. There’s something about the way the dwindling light filters through the kitchen window and onto the cook top; maybe it’s the quiet reminder that new mercies wait just around the corner.

I always feel small during this time, but not in a bad way. I don’t feel insignificant or forgotten; I feel intentional. Purposeful. Quiet. I feel comfortable shrinking back a bit, committing myself to the tasks at hand, even losing myself in them. Domesticity¬† soothes me during that golden time, even as it sometimes wears me out during other hours of the day. It seems to be the one time when I can invite Martha and Mary into the same room and not have to mediate, the one time when gratitude wells most readily to the surface.

There’s beauty in smallness that I don’t think exists in quite the same way anywhere else. It’s enchanting. It’s enticing. It’s full of promise. I’m finding that, paradoxically, it’s in the midst of smallness that life is most abundant.

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This entry was posted in Faith, Family, Gifts, Home, Humility, Life. Bookmark the permalink.

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