thoughts from the porch

 

Indigo blue sky, eerie and cool after a warm day in the sun. I want only to sip orange juice on my couch, bare armed and bare legged, watching the world stand perfectly still outside my window. There's a concert at church tonight, dinner to make, clothes to fold. What is it about spring that makes the daily things not just livable, but exciting?

* * *

I was sitting out here in the cool, almost mountain-like air, in the weirdness of this night. Quiet, waiting for God to come, maybe talk to me. I know that these moments are so very real, but I also wonder if he really is here, talking to me. Because all I hear is rustling leaves and the neighbor sneezing from the other side of the pond and the occasional dog bark.

And then I read, "Hallelujah! You who serve God, praise God! Just to speak his name is praise! Just to remember God is a blessing - now and tomorrow and always." (Psalm 113:1-2, The Message.)

Beautiful.

* * *

On the porch. The air is thick with jasmine and honeysuckle, and so hot. I love this porch, especially when the leaves are full and new and the branches seem almost heavy with life. Sometimes I sit here and almost feel out of place - as if I'm already in an old, favorite memory; dreamy and surreal. Remember when I was young, when I used to sit out on the porch of that cute little apartment? When I read the Bible for the first time, really read it, when I learned what it meant to make art? When Trevor and I could make a whole date out of pouring coffee and sitting next to each other? Weren't those the days? 

These are the days.