We are in a quiet season, a sort of slow lull before other seasons and so we are quiet in the car, quiet at night, even quieter in the morning.  I thought about googling questions to ask each other because that's something I would have done a year ago.  But there is something sort of wonderful about a good pause with a person who is at ease with you.

And that is what we are doing, we are easing.  Slowly waiting on whatever it is that is next, slowly leaving where we are now.  He is the steady one, of course, but I had been so afraid of this place we have been living in, so ready to fight it and to fight our God.  I have gone down the maybe road, the if road, the crying in my morning coffee road.  

Here's the beautiful truth though: He took me on those small roads and He moved me into bigger spaces.  I have prayed so hard for my siblings and for my husband.  Have prayed myself to sleep, prayed myself to school, prayed myself from the driveway into the house.  I had all of this head space once I moved into the big places.  He freed me up.  My heart moved again for people.

And now I have a new classroom full of new monsters who I have already fallen for.  A  new beautiful niece.  A brother who is bursting past my small prayers.

And then there was tonight and the spontaneous fall hike with neighbor friends, running to the store for fontina and mozzarella and ricotta, building the pizza and eating tomatoes and basil from the garden while it baked, him dashing off to save the cousins and their skunked dogs, me on the couch with the oldest blanket, messages from a sweet friend and that song on repeat.

It is quiet here.  It is sometimes a little sad.  But that sister had a baby and brother is all fire and passion and those students are stunningly brilliant and the good, good man is still mad about me and God.  He is keeping me from the small places.