It’s cool and overcast here in Colorado today. The sort of day which beckons me to my chair and my books. We spent the morning doing some busy work…school and laundry and bills and such, so I could spend part of the afternoon here. Writing. Reading. Pondering.
We’ve received news of a shift in our stay-home orders. Next week the slow return to normal will begin for our town. With limits and precaution, people will go back to work, stores will eventually open, small gatherings will take place, Brett will get a haircut. Goodness, I can’t wait to hug my people. But my spirit has felt quieted today. We were just feeling settled into our new normal. I was starting to lean into the sweetness of this season at home. We’ve read and painted. We’ve enjoyed music and slower meals. We’ve taken up badminton. Our family navigated into a beautiful place of calm. And now it’s time to unmoor ourselves for the next phase of our journey. This all has me feeling a little fragile at the moment.
One of my favorite lines of scripture happens just after the birth of Jesus. There’s a collision of heaven and earth…the shepherds have their angelic encounter and have journeyed to meet Jesus. They bring with them the message of glory and peace proclaimed by the angels. And then we get a precious glimpse into the life of Mary.
But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.
Luke 2:19
Oh, the tenderness of these words is so beautiful. Think of all that was happening to this young girl in these moments…the fulfillment of a prophecy, seeing the face of her son and her king, realizing what the coming days and years might hold, sensing the magnificent change and groaning of the earth, the longing of all creation for this very same baby held in her arms. I just cannot imagine. But we’re told she treasured these things and pondered them in her heart. Sweet Mary, the mother of Jesus, took a moment for contemplation.
So today, I’m grateful God reminded me of this verse. I’m taking a bit of extra time to ponder and consider the significance of these last weeks for our little family. I’m wondering and anticipating what the days to come might hold. There’s some remnants of uncertainty and lingering fear. And there’s hope and eagerness for renewed fellowship, closer community, and reordered priorities.
Perhaps you need a reminder today that it’s okay to slow down. To ponder. To allow space for a gentle day. If so, I’m praying you encounter the same sense of peace I have found here.
Love,
Kate
Thoughts from The Yellow House 