Monday. My parents left over 24 hours ago. I've vaccuumed all the floors and washed all the sheets, remade all the beds, finished the family laundry, had a good night's sleep and a productive morning and I'm sitting here at my quiet kitchen counter praying for a funny story to tell you. I've missed spinning my yarns for you.
But none of today's best stories are mine for the telling.
The local schools started back today. The neighborhood kids climbed on buses, new jeans, new backpacks, new teachers, new friends. All day I've heard the buses roll past my windows and the sound of happy children on the playground floats to me on the crisp pre-autumn breeze.
Al started his new job today, too. I am thankful he's found something so perfect for him. Thankful to see him happy and hopeful and himself again. There's a part of me that wishes we could embark on this new journey together. He's still my hero.
My cherished friend called me this afternoon. She's in love with her husband for the first time. Just like that, literally overnight, He has worked a miracle in her heart. In their hearts. The joy in her voice astounds me.
None of these beginnings belongs to me, but the rest of each story will unfold before my eyes in the days to come.
And I am on the very edge of my seat, God.