It is not my typical Sunday morning. I guess from now on this will be typical, but I am still trying to wrap my brain around a quiet morning on the weekend. Two quiet mornings. Sipping my coffee, listening to a little jazz and realizing as I am listening that I am finally hearing all the words to a song.
I have been on my own, so to speak, for four weeks now and I suppose this will become something that I appreciate...QUIET. No little boys running into my room, shaking me awake, kissing me awake, or tackling me while in a dead sleep. My reading is accelerated on the weekends and I am finishing books at rapid speeds. My Bible and journal get much attention over the weekend, and I have embraced long walks through the city just people watching.
I don't know what the scene is for an almost middle aged single woman. So I find myself either making a scene (turning around in a coffee shop and dumping my coffee on the young boy behind me) or watching the scenes of life unfold in front of my long pauses. I went out a couple of weeks ago with a couple of divorced women. I guess we figured we were all in the same place and I realized that scene was not for me. Three single middle aged women out on the town is only an invitation for trouble. I ended up having to take them both home from indulging to much in the fine wines, but an experience to tuck away as not my scene.
I love the quiet. My kids have always been early to bed kids. All five very good sleepers, so I am really no stranger to quiet in the evenings and enjoying some reading, and meeting up with friends, but this is different. It's not a scheduled time. It's all the time. Two days a week of a break from being full time mommy.
I have taken a very part time job in a retirement community. I am very happy to have this weekend job, as it does fill in the time. I have come to love all the residents, those who push along in a wheel chair with one foot, those who shuffle with a walker, and those who proudly walk with no assistance needed. I like this scene. I like listening to these older folks share their lives and stories. Life is worn on their faces and if there is one thing I have learned is that bitterness, unforgiveness, and a bad attitude do not look good on the face of an 80-90 year old person.
I am on a new journey, a new season, a new scene and so far God is giving me my portion of what I need. I have always been a strong woman, and this new journey has not weakened me. I find that I have to pull from one source, one scene, and one Divine inspiration. Even today, with the morning starting off quiet I can prayerfully thank God for how my life is unfolding. Not the plans I had for this time in my life, but remember that song from years past..."In His time, in His time, He makes all things beautiful in His time..." Every moment, every scene, everything is in His time. So to wake up each morning with the confidence that God knows just what the scene is for Elizabeth I can smile, embrace it and make the day a terrific day.