Thanks to Heather in Hendrickville for letting me blatantly pirate most of her good Friday musings…
In between the sips of Starbucks and soul talk
listening to the boys flinging mud with their friends
making PB&Js
and again when Joseph’s fell
I kept on thinking…
How thankful I am for this life.
It’s messy
full
imperfect
even a little chaotic at times
but I’m thankful.
Grateful really
for my friend in the kitchen
laughing
talking
helping
loving each other.
Had it not been for another Good Friday long ago, I wouldn’t have these friends
this family
these people
in my life
because had it not been for that Friday
I would be mean
unloving
unlovable
uninterested in matters of the heart
too consumed with myself to enter into life with others.
In between scrubbing off mud again and again
comforting a child
watching Sharky emerge from a long nap
I kept on thinking…
About my boys
My husband boy
and my little boys
all the boys that I love.
It’s odd how one moment your hands can be wiping mud from a bucket
and then the next moment your mind can fly off
across oceans and across the street
and look into the faces of the people who mean the most to you.
One minute you’re swirling peanut butter
The next minute your heart can feel so much love
that you think it might pop
Thankful.
Grateful really
for my family
my home
my Rich
my three sons
my rescued dog
my soul friends.
Had it not been for another Good Friday long ago, I wouldn’t have these boys to love
this family
these people
in my life
because had it not been for that Friday
I wouldn’t be busily making sandwiches and searching for one more juice box
imagining my sons with smiles on their faces Easter morning
and mud in their hair today.
I’d be busy being foolish
destroying
my home
and everyone in it.
Had it not been for another good Friday long ago, I would be lost
clamoring
left
to sit in hopelessness
my mounds of sin
piles
really
aching for more meaning from this life
knowing there was more
living as a slave
to myself.
I’d rather think of anything
than who I’d be apart from that Friday.
In between the mud and the PB&J and the soul talk
I kept on thinking
what a good Friday it is…
what a Good Friday it was.
