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Monday, August 22, 2011

Light in a Waiting Place

I’m in a waiting place.

Contentment in the waiting is the least strongest of my virtues.  Or, should I say, a virtue that I don’t really have at all.

I am eternally wrought with impatience.  I am restless.  I am ever-in-a-hurry for changing landscapes and new news.

I usually hate that about myself, but… there it is. 

I got up early this morning, for no other reason than the bed was too stiff and my back was too sore and the ticking clock on the nightstand was digging into my brain until I could take no more.  My feet shuffled to the kitchen and I grabbed coffee and listened to a little silence and sat in the living room, where my big windows let in all the light.

I leave my blinds open all. the. time.  And not just open like the slats are horizontal, but open like the cord is pulled down to the floor and every bit of window is exposed to the outside world.

This drives my husband bonkers (Do you want the whole world to see in here?!), but I can’t help it. 

I just need me some light up in here.  As much of it as I can get, really. 

I want sunlight to spill across the teal carpet that I hate and bounce off the tarnished brass corners on the ugly coffee table.  I want the warm yellow light to flood across the already-yellow linoleum, cracks glinting in exposure, and all our window streaks revealed. I want to be reminded, in the dark and blah of this home that’s not my own, that we’re really just a part of the big, wide expanse beyond these walls.  I want the light to cover over all this darkness, to wash away the ugly and give life to the old and the dark and the hopeless.

The sunlight warms my face, even behind the glass, and everything looks fresh and new in the dawn.  I am grateful for the light that I can nearly taste today, the big bright deluge that pours inside and covers all.

In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. – John 1:4

-          Relief from a difficult situation
-          Memories of home
-          Polka dots
-          Lazy days off that still held plenty of productivity
-          The first day of school today – Connections Academy for us this year
-     A freshened up school room that's also a dining room, with pencils sharpened and books at the ready
-          Laugh lines around my husband’s eyes
-          My biggest baby boy, turning 12 tomorrow
-          Sweet anticipation of the unknown
-          Sixty-six days ‘til this
-          To-die-for Mexican food, for a mere couple-a bucks
-          Beauty, in unlikely places

Don't forget to visit my last post to enter the My Memories Suite giveaway!


  1. Beautiful list!  I love your listing your hubby and his laugh lines.

  2. I know about how light floods into darkness you don't choose.  I smiled at your teal carpet and cracked linoleum.  I've been there.  Good counting sister.  

  3. Hi! Thanks for stopping by and commenting today. I have some friends who use Connections Academy and they really like it. I hope it works well for your family as well. Mexican food...Yum!

  4. It must be a man thing, it drives my husband a little nutty too. :) But there's something about letting the light in, not just slats, but letting it all in.  Hope your day is bright :) 

  5. I miss the big windows that let so much light in! Our house is fairly dark, with only a few windows period. But I know that we'll be moving soon, and I pray that maybe nice, big windows will be part of this crazy new life? Waiting can be so hard at times, but I'm so thankful that He knows what He's doing, even when we can't see.

  6. Love this post.  I've been thinking lately about how light streaming in a window makes almost anything look beautiful.  Even when my house is messy and I look into a room, I like it better with the sunlight streaming in.  And I NEED the light too.  Crave it.  Wilt without it.  


Your comments are such an encouragement. Thank you for sharing your valuable words.