Ordinary Tuesdays…

My days are crammed full with people/demands/needs/expectations/requests/responsibilities.

Once at work, my day runs ahead, and I get pulled along, as it gallops from one thing to the next. At the end, I walk wearily to my car and drive into the sunset. If I’m lucky the sun is still peeking above the horizon. I head home, feeling depleted and worn. I replay the minutes as I drive, processing interactions, and hoping to make sense of the day’s activities. Some nights I have conversations, in my head. I tell people what I really think about what happened and what I think should happen next. Sometimes I pray. Most days I just think.

The long drive toward the sunset is a blur. The scenery is so familiar it just fades away. The winding roads, the construction, the long straightaways all provide a backdrop to my thoughts. Some days, I don’t even see the other cars. I pull off the familiar exit, take the turns, and arrive at my driveway. This long curving dirt road marks the beginning of refuge, and I check my thoughts. I don’t invite people I don’t like down my drive, even in my head. As I take the turn, I leave the troublesome people behind.

The dirt and gravel slow me down while trees provide cover for my retreat from the world. The last turn reveals my little house, lit from within. I pull into the drive, and can see my men laughing through the windowed walls. Father and son laughing together. I am home. I open the door and am enveloped by the smells of dinner. Garlic and onion roasted chicken and sage envelop me. We pour, we serve, and we sit to pray. This small offering heals my soul, fills my senses, and feeds my body. It is not the just food, but the gathering at days end. Stories, challenges, hopes, and dreams are shared. I am so thankful for these humans and this place… they restore my soul.

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