PORCH
A CHRIST-CENTERED
WEEKEND NEWSLETTER
gentle conversation & calming snapshots
uplifting linkage & occasional surprises
for those who delight in doing life
in the company of kindred spirits
📬
How are you today?
It's an early rainy morning here on Cape Cod and I literally am on the porch, sitting on this sofa, pulling this newsletter together. I did a quick calculation last night ... we've been able to spend 14 days this month with our grandkids (and parents) in Connecticut, Maryland, and right here this week. A new record, I'm guessing.
The house is now still as a stone. It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The loud laughter and music and random dancing have ceased. There's not ten conversations going at once or sweet memories being made one-on-one. The kitchen is not overflowing with food, counters and tabletops are clear of water bottles, phones, and sun glasses, and there's no piles of shoes to trip over.
The 14 days were sprinkled with little miracles, right and left. Like stardust that sparkled bright and left me in awe of God's faithfulness and the reality of answered prayer.
I miss it all.
*
something loved
something read
'Our God is bigger and better than our circumstances, fears, wounds, misconceptions, and past failures. There is security and joy in declaring the goodness, kindness, loving, and eternal nature of our Father. We dictate the emotions we feel by what we choose to dwell on and believe. Our minds are the battleground for our emotions, actions, and desire to dwell in communion with our good God.'
- First15
something learned
It took me weeks, but I finally emptied my Juno email account. She was with me every step of the way for 30 years, long before blogging and texting became my daily bread.
I wasn't sure what to do with the thousands of emails Mom had sent or the all the cute stories of the grandkiddos when they were little or copies of every post I ever wrote.
But in the process, I realized I didn't need to stuff my new email account with old memories. My heart sheltered the moments that needed to be treasured. And once I started hitting the delete button, I realized I'd survive without having to hold onto and re-read a blow by blow account of my life since 1993.
I can't begin to tell you how light and unencumbered I felt when it was all over. Freedom from the tyranny of the sheer quantity of what I had thought was so essential.
something eaten
Clam chowder and a stuffed quqhog. Oyster crackers, melted butter, lemon ... and a lovely pink lily. Lunch at Landfall in Woods Hole, a waterfront restaurant 'constructed of wood taken from old shipwrecks and boards from old buildings.'
Linda
