Windsday

The wind blew me in the front door and he smiled so big I could almost feel the cracks starting in his chapped lips, and a what a horrible punishment for someone so pleased to see me.

In his 30's, my dad said that his short term memory was getting shorter, but he was remembering all sorts of things from his childhood, even back to four years old. I never thought it would start happening to me, but I've started getting these little glimpses of my memories, and each one is a tiny, sweet present, like a piece of candy. And if my 30's come, and I start having more of those, then it won't be so bad to get old.

My weeks flash by so quickly. The wind keeps the air beautiful along the Wasatch, and every morning as I walk across my work campus to get my second cup of coffee, I worship my King for the gift of being here. Nights are hard, but mornings are such a relief and reward.

I pass the time to be with You, my Saviour.
Let my life glorify You, let my days be short, and my joy be from Your mercy and righteousness. The gifts You give me, and the trials You walk me through.

Thank You for clean water, for legs to run, for the kind of family other people covet, thank you for a little boy who is learning sign language and wants me to point out to him Your moon and stars, for smothered burritos, for the dream of going back to the country, for my freedom, for my chains, and for all the mysteries in between that keep me up at night.