Lauren Kooistra

Friday, November 4, 2016

When you have a yearly tradition with the friend and the free tickets,

and you have to admit: the drum line gets you, every time.

When you take an hour in the late afternoon fade of the sun,

to just read.

When your uncle lives in your town, yet you hardly ever see him, but you have the dinner on your calendar, and you get a little adventurous.

When for the first time in what feels like a long time,

you have an afternoon to just sit at your desk, and deal with things.

When you sleep like the dead and awake to the morning, and you take all the roiled up pieces of your soul and place them before Him,

and watch Him, put you back together.

When you step out on your porch,

and there is something about this scene that is so comforting to you,

the Provision of where you have been placed.

When the people care enough to gather,

and there are the glimmers of hope,

the variety of age color type,

and together you talk,

you listen,

you care,

and you learn,

and when you get home, you discover great gratitude for the box of crayons sitting nearby, enabling you to process.