For a little while now, my idyll has been to live in an old house near Bowral. One like this:
(if you are of means, do buy this beautiful house: I just love it)
I imagine: J & I would wear relaxed weekend clothes and have picnics in the front garden with family, friends and neighbours. There’d be room for children, and songs and laughter, and messes in the hallway (creative like mine). I could grow old in a house like this and be happy.
There is danger present in all this dreaming. It preys around the edges of words like “if only I had this, I would be happy”. I realised this as I was playing with left-over tea leaves (of all things) this afternoon
[therapeutic, if a little mad, and earthy
swirling the dregs around in an unused glass
and pulling them out, like drowning beetles
The truth is, I am vastly blessed, and will continue to be so in happiness and adversity, because:
“neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38-39)
So whether I am shuffling through the mess I have made (will it ever subside?) or making and remaking good of the food we have, in whatever version of the future that eventuates, I’ll be counting my blessings, thankfully.
Katie : )