Things I Am Thinking About Tonight In The Quiet Of The Dark

Some are real. Some I just wish were......

A giant barn full of country music and multi generational laughter and dancing.

The hem of my daughter's green cotton-gauze dress waving in the wind with her wheat colored hair.

Staring into the eyes of an abused third world teenage girl and convincing her with nothing but eye contact that I care.

Light blue Adirondack chairs on a beach.

Saturday morning classic rock countdown on the radio in our kitchen while I poked my tongue through the space in my missing teeth.

Friendships formed from living in one place your whole life. I don't know that.

Laying on the trampoline watching puffy clouds make shapes in the sky.

Laying on the hood of a car watching puffy clouds make shapes in the sky. :)

Slow kissing. Whether or not it's related to the above.

A long front porch on a siding covered house.

Pink orchids.

Cherry sours.

My Grandpa's silly stories and a sweet and extremely meaningful conversation with him just days before his death.

A pendant I received from a second grade crush.

The morning I got saved - sixth pew back on the right side and a one-eyed preacher with the most welcoming smile I've ever seen.

Being hugged, honestly, for a really long time.

Rollerskating to "Xanadu" in a friend's backyard that backed up to the bay - with lots of other little girls too young to know about social politics or competition.

Seeing my daughter's heartbeat on a sonogram, after it wasn't.

Secrets I hold in my heart and ones that I've told someone else who has kept it faithfully and ones that some people give themselves too much credit for thinking they know, but I get the last laugh.

Watching my friends push their severely mentally handicapped daughter into my other friend's father's funeral. She always has a colorful bow in her hair and is so perfectly groomed despite being 31 years old and wearing a diaper. That to me is love.

People who sit with other people without any agenda other than to be available when the other is ready to talk.

My son getting back on his bike even after he made hamburger of his knee.

Sweet tea.

When I "just happen" to read exactly the right verse for whatever I'm dealing with that day.

How EVERYTHING I have ever experienced in my life seems to become extremely useful at a future time I could never have envisioned while it was happening.

Driving away from the stress toward a vacation.

The Great Town-wide High School Scavenger Hunt. I remember pushing my friend down the grocery aisle in a shopping cart at 5 a.m. and doing high kicks in the island of the highway.

A certain night in my apartment with my husband-to-be, and yes, we were fully clothed, and tenderly grieving his father's passing.

The zillion stars in the sky over our neighborhood, that I didn't think I wanted to move to.

My face when I could still recognize it as me. (This one made me cry, finally. It's been a long time coming.)

The flickering light of a swimming pool.

The time my kids all ran to the ice cream truck in only their underwear. I'm just going to sit on this one for a while before I continue typing.........

The little purple flowers my son handed me with his proud 2 year old smile.

My daughter's GORGEOUS heart.

My son being the only one to recognize that I needed to cry - and how to handle it.

The lights of the town over the ridge below our house.

Sitting in bean bags watching episodes of Mr. Rogers with my cousins, then running all over my Grandma's town unsupervised.

Hearing I'd not only made the team, but made officer as well.

Seeing 4 certain people I don't get to see right now because they are in Heaven.

Knowing how to worship properly without even trying for ever and ever.

Being included in old inside jokes.

Knowing that I've earned my womanhood.

Deep sleep in a soft warm bed.

The first bite of soft warm carrot cake.

Sitting in a boat in the middle of the lake at night.

The way my kids smiles are stuck on at the carnival.

Having a small, modest lake property to regularly retreat to.

Those old time cruising bicycles with really long fenders and a basket.

Screen porch doors and wood floors.

When American flags on the roof guttering and pickup sports and "please" and "thank you" and "yes, ma'am" and "no, sir" were all the norm.

Holding my children against my chest, then and now.

Wishing Jesus was tangible right now.

Wishing Heaven wasn't somewhere so far away.