Our dwelling place

John and I spent last week with sweet children from our church community. Mom and Dad flew out of town and we sort of took their place. It felt a bit like vacation- you know, cooking in a new kitchen, loving on toddlers, mornings at the park, zoo day, no reminders that my clogged closets call my name . . .

So, we live in this old house with memories that sometime suffocate me- and we're still trying to figure out our house and retirement. Should we fix the leaks and cracks in this old house?  Should we move on to a smaller, newer space? Should we give it all away and launch a radical retirement in a tear drop trailer?
Hmmm, maybe - maybe not- but for now we keep chipping away on our old house.
We planted a little tree in the yard and John's busy with a creative deck project. For months my favorite cut out lay hidden on a dusty shelf and finally I framed it- a new picture to hang on my old wall.

Yesterday morning I found myself driving in the neighborhood of a new coffee shop. Do I dare stop and have a coffee alone? Yes, do it! So I chose a spot on an umbrella shaded patio and splurged on a croissant and coffee in a white cup. I sat in this lovely space reading, musing, when an elderly man from a neighboring table approached.

"Are you reading the Bible? you need to read this verse." Fumbling with a pencil, he appeared  confused.

I offered up my Bible; he leaned over the table, smoothing the rumbled pages. "Right here, Psalm 90!"

And the kind stranger read to me,  "Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were born you gave birth to the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting you are God."

Then he handed back my Bible, smiled and walked away. Sometimes life on this earth is so strange, so good- and God's Word is incredibly timely. . .

He is jealous for me, loves like a hurricane. 

I am a tree bending beneath the weight of his wind

Mercy, oh how He loves. . .