blue china

the sun's rays woke me up early this morning
peeking through the slits of the curtains.
i secretly smiled as the blanket went back over my head
trying to take advantage of just a little more sleep.

i love the view i share with the window.
partially blocked by a large tree,
separating my room from the neighbor's house,
i can gaze outside at the ever-changing sky
which i have no doubt will be heavenly on rainy afternoons.

downstairs, i am finding that this is a well-worn kitchen
and i am sure that hundreds of people have chatted
and cooked and laughed and cried here over the years.
today as i sat at the table, i felt like a character from a quaint, dusty novel
[the kind that silently sleeps on your grandmother's bookshelf, hiding its breathless adventures].
a bowl of fruit sat quietly in the center of a clean white tablecloth, the open shutters revealed an enchanting garden with the trickling sound of a mini waterfall, vines growing along the trellis were starting to bloom,
and my hands balanced a blue china teacup and saucer.

we sat there and talked for what seemed like ten minutes,
though it was likely more than an hour.
as usual, i had many thoughts dancing in my head,
but today i was content to just sit and listen
not the typical listening most people say--as in hearing the words, perhaps even muttering an agreement, but not quite remembering how they all fit together--
but actually listening to her and thinking about the words i was hearing.
the words we spoke cannot be fully described, as they might lose their wonder,
but i left the table in awe.
not at her, not at the words she had chosen
but at the grace of the Lord's work through her...in his deep love and forgiveness...in the way he abundantly provides for every need (and many desires)...in the lessons he teaches and the way he walks us through them...and in the way he heals and sets free.

my feeble attempts to express the thoughts of this afternoon cannot do justice to what the Lord deserves. even if i could write a series of volumes about everything he's done and the promises he's kept, i would never have enough pages. my worn bible is becoming even more dear to me each passing day, and i long for the times i can spend with my Savior, both talking to and listening to him. and the changes he's created in me come with the joy of telling others about his love...his vast, unsearchable, unchanging, sweet love.

for now, though, as i rest my head back down
and wait for the sun's greeting again tomorrow
i'm planning how to make the next day count, as today did,
and looking forward to another cup of tea in a blue china teacup.