it was a gas station. we’d driven hours with three kids close and now one of them had to use the bathroom.
joshua was pumping gas and i thought i’d just send her in by herself. i wanted to be done. i didn’t want to get out of the car until we arrived. i pulled myself out of the car and went in with her anyway.
pizza rotating on silver pans. bored guy standing behind 5-hour energy drinks. restrooms at the back. she goes in and i’m staring at the same nothing of every gas station market.
we are leaving. we are heading back to the car.
i open the same doors and head out to the same car when violent beauty attacks.
towering pines covered with snow. the sky flies up and up. the heavy white silence of winter sings out and there’s no question of listening or not.
i was honestly confused.
this is outside of a gas station?
my spirit feels flat lined.
robert robinson penned the line, “tune my heart to sing thy praise” when he was twenty-two years old.
robert, you were wise beyond your years.
my heart feels like a instrument long left leaning against the wall.
maybe ten days in the woods will bring back a pulse to my spirit. maybe if i can sit still long enough, god will pick up this out of tune heart and strum my life until it sings praise again.
startling me outside the gas station is just the beginning.
that would be nice.
gratitude list ~ one thousand gifts ~ 2255 – 2275
drew and dianne collins
too much snow
lift him up, that’s all
dog breath face
josh on vacation
remembering last time
pizza in hotel rooms