Joyous

Sabbath.

This is what encouragement looks like, sometimes. It does not hide, but sometimes one must seek it out.

This is my day off. Six days to work, one day to rest. That is how God designed it, so it must be enough.

Nine AM, my sisterfriend makes blueberry muffins in the kitchen while I get ready for church. We wait for them, and when they are ready, their golden brown surfaces bounce back under our fingers. We split them open and watch the steam rise. I dip one in my black tea, sweet. It is snowing.

Light, fluffy flakes hit my face as I tromp down the street to church, which is convicting and encouraging, delightful. And when pastor G finishes praying and I turn around, there is sunlight streaming through the big windows and a bright blue sky to walk home under.

Then lunch. Lebanese food. My beloved place is coming to this small Ohio town! Drinks come in tall bottles in the coolers and we eat with plastic forks and knives. Every meal comes with flat bread and hummus. It’s a happening place, people from all walks of life sitting at these wooden tables. I like the simplicity of the place. The ceiling is bright blue.

My sisterfriend and I buy a hideous shirt that we are both really like. It’s 2.50 USD, why not?

My soul is filled with laughter and I let it spill about nothing, because who needs a reason to laugh? Who needs a reason for joy? Anyway, Jesus is my reason and that is always good.

Now, it is cloudy again and my beautiful roommate G is cozied up on the couch and my sisterfriend sits in the rocking chair with a red, snowflake blanket pulled around her shoulders and over her head. And I sit in my favorite green chair in the corner and we rest in the last light of the day. It has been a good day, a joyous day.

Loved.