God's presence

The door was opened, he welcomed me home with opened arms, always. He always ran to the door if he heard my footsteps. But I was waiting to meet someone else. Laying aside hunger, I let loose my bundle of hair, allowing some trivial thoughts run wild. "Should I wash my hair today or tomorrow morning?" Perhaps it was a lazy thought, so the question went unanswered. The warm stream of water splashed down my head, it felt cathartic.

I was thinking about someone else while watching the mist steamed up the bathroom. It had been a long week, my soul was weary and patience wore thin on many occassions. David and I always made a point to dine together as much as possible, but today, I had asked him to go ahead before me, I felt bad, but I was so tired. This short retreat should be enough to tide me for dinner later. I reckon. Yearning for that someone was an understatement of all sorts. All I wanted to was to crawl in and remain there, but this one steam bath wasn't going to provide it, and neither is dining with my husband. It was one of those days when the door swings open and I could only managed a weak mumble. Watching David's excited face when he sees me always puts a smile in my heart. I think its these little treats that God puts for us that cushions our fall.

I spoke to God at last. The friend I had been waiting to talk with. I prayed in the spirit. I know that the holy spirit helps me in groans which I cannot understand. I know he didn't mind me crying or my sighs at all. My ever gentle and patient friend knows that this hide-out place was temporary. Besides rejoining David at the dinner table, life must, inevitably go on. And although all I could hear are the sounds of gushing water at that moment, there were no need for reasons and no need for any spoken words. No burning bush, no raging thunder, it was a special kind of rest. The kind that is at his feet.