When the hunters leave early, we walk to the hills. One of our cats has been missing again, this time for nearly two weeks. We found her once across the lake, so we know she’s wandered at least that far before. I probably would’ve given up hope by now, but this past Sunday, my father-in-law told us he used to know cats who’d be gone for weeks. From his tractor he could see them out in the fields hunting. I haven’t much hope she’s coming back, but after that, I still have some. The longest any of ours have been gone is ten days, when she appeared one morning at the school room sliding door.
With it getting dark earlier, the evenings are longer. I’m wanting to get us settled into some flexible evening routines before winter. Though I’d suspect this to be true for any person, things go better for my tired-worn nerves when I’m not enduring hours of pins and needles before bedtime. My sisters are talking about the same thing for their daytimes, as their schools will be out from Thanksgiving until at least the end of Christmas break. They, too, like so many, seek a home and routine. The Lord says, “Seek and you shall find”, and the Lord is the keeper of promises, friends. What we’re looking for does not always come with what we’re asking for.
After tidying the living room and practicing piano songs, we moved down to the schoolroom. The kids had made white paper chains earlier in the day to hang from the ceiling along with the fake leaves. They plugged in the trees and sat in their Amish baby chairs drinking hot chocolate (I told them hot chocolate would not be a regular thing because of the sugar). With me on the guest bed and the kids in their chairs, I read to them a chapter from Revelation. After Babylon had fallen, they pulled out a board game.
I joined not in their wonders
but watched from my pillow
a little bit farther
the evening nigh spent