Night Air
10:00 at night, and I walk to the window to close the curtains. It's a perfect 72 degrees and I stop to breathe. Breathe deeply. It's the kind of night air after a warm day filled with sunshine and kids playing outside and work done in the garden. It's not like fresh morning air that's filled with anticipation and possibility and the unknown. This night air is full of satisfaction and peace after a good day, full of memories of kids playing and working, of conversations and learning. It's full of everything that happened today.
The air is delicious and I want to drink it, want to dive in it and let it completely envelope me down to every last cell in my body. I want to fall out of the window and become a part of the air, it's so enticing. The street is quiet and the house is full of settling down sounds. At this moment, for a second, there is nothing else but me and this air. I just stand there, in awe of the air and the One who made it.
The spell is broken by a child who needs me, by a passing car, by teenagers talking. I am drawn back into my world, into the mundane. And I tend to those who need me and say goodnight to those who think they don't.
But the smell of the air lingers in my nose, it's in my brain, as I finally climb into bed to rest. I sleepily wonder if Heaven will smell like that. If it will be so endearing and compelling that I will not be able to resist jumping in and letting it surround me, pulling me in to complete serenity and safety; home. Completely and utterly free and in His presence.
And then I am reminded that Heaven will be so much better than we can even imagine, so much more than our puny brains can conjure. I long for it, even in this wonderful life I have been given. I am eager for it, even while I live with this man and children God has blessed me with. Fleeting moments and days, even, of contentment still leave me looking forward to going to my real home.
Sleep comes quickly tonight, even with all the cares of this life. I awake to rain pouring on the roof, and get up to close the window.
The air is delicious and I want to drink it, want to dive in it and let it completely envelope me down to every last cell in my body. I want to fall out of the window and become a part of the air, it's so enticing. The street is quiet and the house is full of settling down sounds. At this moment, for a second, there is nothing else but me and this air. I just stand there, in awe of the air and the One who made it.
The spell is broken by a child who needs me, by a passing car, by teenagers talking. I am drawn back into my world, into the mundane. And I tend to those who need me and say goodnight to those who think they don't.
But the smell of the air lingers in my nose, it's in my brain, as I finally climb into bed to rest. I sleepily wonder if Heaven will smell like that. If it will be so endearing and compelling that I will not be able to resist jumping in and letting it surround me, pulling me in to complete serenity and safety; home. Completely and utterly free and in His presence.
And then I am reminded that Heaven will be so much better than we can even imagine, so much more than our puny brains can conjure. I long for it, even in this wonderful life I have been given. I am eager for it, even while I live with this man and children God has blessed me with. Fleeting moments and days, even, of contentment still leave me looking forward to going to my real home.
Sleep comes quickly tonight, even with all the cares of this life. I awake to rain pouring on the roof, and get up to close the window.
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