I once read that no story should begin with the weather. Apparently it’s boring and usually has no further significance.
Today, it is cloudy. Still warm, but with most of the doors and windows open, a breeze is pulling through my home. After I finished my quiet time and had put on my second load of laundry this morning, I knew I wanted to go through my day slowly, and with great intention.
While the washing machine was going, I began grating potato to make hashbrowns. I blame the cloudy weather for this stray in routine, but it was welcome. I made myself a small pot of tea and read while the hasbrowns finished cooking. This year has been heavy so far, but going about my Saturday in this manner brought joy.
While I am not always good at waiting, I enjoyed it this morning. Waiting for the kettle to boil. Waiting for breakfast to cook. It felt like a sacred pause.
In the last few months I have been (slowly) making my way through the Little House on the Prairie books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Throughout these stories of her life, one of the biggest things that strikes me is how they must work for, and wait for, nearly everything they had. Food needed to be foraged or caught, and then dealt with appropriately. They didn’t have a home until Pa built it. But there was so much joy in what they did have, and a humility. We are so used to convenience that we no longer see what God has for us when we are lacking.
Life is full of cycles of working, and resting, and working. Of famine, of feasting, of famine. These are Biblical concepts that I don’t think we should forget, even in a life that is so full of ease and instant gratification. Being able to get what we want now can make us feel in control of our lives, and having no waiting period can deflect the uncertainty of not knowing, or not having something. But I think I would be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t rest in that pause, in that time of waiting, and try to grasp what God wants me to see.
I’ve really enjoyed my day so far. On top of the usual tasks (laundry, clean bathroom and kitchen, dust, vacuum and mop), I have reorganised my kitchen cupboards and cleaned the microwave. I need solid time at home every now and then. Refreshing my space refreshes me. I still remember how, two years ago (when things were less-than-ideal), I took comfort in cleaning the kitchen sink. There is something to be said for doing what you can in caring for what you do have.
My day has not been all work. I had my pot of tea and found beauty amidst a pile of laundry and dirty dishes. I have since cleaned those dishes but have a new round of washing up to do since preparing butter chicken for dinner. That’s how these things go. You clean, and you rest, and then you need to clean up. I have worked and I have rested. And so my life will continue in this way.
Sarah xx
the softest words 
Good post. In the last few years I have tried to slow down and pay attention to these cycles of work and rest. I think that nature gives those to us in the seasons, and as women, in our bodies, but we are so used to convenience and to the fast pace of life that we don’t pay attention to these patterns. I would love to see a cultural shift that recognized the shifting patterns and paces of life. But that’s a big dream. I try to work on it in my little corner of the world. I’m glad to see others are, too.
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Thank you so much for your comment! It’s encouraging when you find others who have thought about the same things you have, and who try to implement it themselves 🙂
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