Sometimes it rains.
Sometimes you have a plan for the day.
Sometimes the to-do list just sits and waits.
Sometimes you call your farmer man and say, “It rained. Of course, you have nothing to do since it rained so……….”
Sometimes you notice apricots on the counter.
Sometimes you sprinkle sugar on the counter around the apricots and pick up your camera.
Sometimes you ignore the dirty dishes, except to possibly move them around so they’re not in the background of your picture.
Sometimes you take pictures and you do Bible study and you take more pictures and work on dishes and move around the house tidying and trying some decor changes. Small things you enjoy, but can be done without too much thinking.
Sometimes you wait.
Sometimes you check your phone and you check your phone and you check your phone again.
Sometimes you text your sister and you talk to your mother.
And all the while you’re not admitting to a bit of anxious expectation that keeps bubbling up and you know it’s part of the reason on this cloudy day that you just do this and that instead of digging into earlier plans.
And then you admit when you see your phone start blinking, “receiving” and you grip it in your hands and watch that red bar move across the screen and you know and hope and hope and know, that surely it’s from your man and surely it will be the picture you’re hoping to see.
It is. Happy tears spring unbidden to your eyes and you realize once again that to be a mother is to forever have your heart walk around outside your body.
Your daughter. Smiling. Holding her temporary paper that signifies she passed. She passed her driving test and now she is a farm-permitted driver.
This morning you hugged her tight and you pointed to the six-month-old picture of your baby niece on her bulletin board and you said, “I used to have a chubby baby girl who looked something like that. Where did she go?”
And you both laughed. And hugged again.
And tears pricked then, too.
And you also told her, “If you ever get married and you are grumpy at your husband, don’t tell me, because I will give him a karate chop.”
You both dissolved in laughter and she replied, “Then I’d probably be grumpy at you, too.”
You laughed some more at all the mental pictures and at your total inability to karate chop, although a mama bear instinct is NOT to be underestimated. Because this girl she has my heart and any man who wins her heart best be very, very worthy of it.
Sometimes you sprinkle sugar on the counter and take pictures while you wait.
Sometimes you laugh when your man says, “It looks like someone spilled something.”
Because you see the beauty underneath and sometimes in life you sprinkle sugar.