For the first time in probably 20 years I had the house completely to myself. Okay, not completely, I shared it with 4 dogs, a bird and the fish in the pond, but there were no other humans talking back to me.
I loved it. Listening to the sounds of the house, the creaks and groans that usually go unnoticed because of all the activity that transmits from this house. I stayed up late and cleaned closets, vacuumed spiderwebs, washed woodwork, and then stayed up a little later to read myself to sleep. At the crack of dawn, Brody was ready to begin his day, but I was able to pet his head and massage his eyes into a few more minutes of sleep. But even getting up to let the dogs out was delightful, as the morning sun filtered through the fog and gently warmed the day.
My morning coffee was consumed either in "Little Italy" in our backyard, or as I watched Nora and Brody leap through the fields from the front porch.
Other than a few "good dog, bad dog" words, I probably only spoke to a handful of people. Interesting point, our house phone has been on the blinks for several months, so I didn't deal with any telemarketers or annoying calls.
As these quiet days were coming to an end, I realized how good it is to be still. To be where you want to be and to know that in these moments of solitude, God stirs. He reminded me of His presence through the whispers of the trees, through the puppy dog eyes that followed me, through the flowers that lighten to the morning sun. Be still and know that I am God.
