“Beck, what would be life-giving for you right now?”
Only a sister asks a question like that. She’d seen me come out from the kitchen, after hearing the deep sigh at the sight of the dishes and counters I’d already cleaned up three times that day.
The repetitiveness of dishes and kitchen clean-up used to drive me mad. It can still evoke those dreaded deep sighs, particularly when I’m tired at the end of the day, but it’s no use being mad about it anymore.
I watched my daughter and my sister in the clovers. The boys rode bikes through the pine trees on one side, played catch in the field on the other. I watched, overwhelmed by all the beauty, feeling grateful for the gift.
I don’t know what it is. I’ve never felt like this before.
I can’t stop feeling thankful here.