Is there something else that I need to be ready for? Is this what I am getting ready for? But we already know the miscarriage is coming and I think I’m ready for that. I have no idea what real labor feels like. Get ready? Get ready for what? The miscarriage? I know it’s coming Lord…will it be very painful? I’ve only delivered one child and he was brought into this world six weeks early via emergency c-section. I begin to see the words of Psalm 119:105 floating behind closed eyelids and this is where I stay. I take a deep breath and with every exhale, one by one, I push away the scattered thoughts running through my mind. The morning breeze rustles the pages of my Bible, given to me by my grandparents almost twenty-seven years ago on the Christmas just after my mother died, and I close my eyes.
#Get ready to move your pingas full
You can read my full disclosure policy here. I really appreciate your support in this way. Affiliate links help to “keep the lights on” at The Rescued Letters and I only recommend products that I personally use or are from companies that I know and trust. This post contains affiliate links, which means that at no additional cost to you, I may receive a small commission if you click on and/or purchase from one of the product links. I need to edit my playlist for tonight’s yoga class. Did I turn in Thomas’ field trip money? Read it again, Heather. My mind wanders…d on’t forget to pick up deli meat from the grocery store today. I reread the devotional. I read the devotional message for that day and begin the slow process of turning my heart towards God’s voice. It’s just me, the birds, the breeze, and the sunrise. The cardinal, in his brilliant red feathers, chirps out a staccato warning to the other birds that he was at the feeder first. My husband and son are not awake yet, and neither is the neighborhood. But this is the week I return and my porch offers up the sweet blessings that are always there, whether I return to it or not. I’ve skipped a few mornings here because my heart was broken. I am sitting on this porch one early morning late last summer. I did not dream that this would be the setting for countless conversations with God when I fought for my porch, but the conversations I remember the most happen here.
I want to be able to sit outside and watch our children play and drink sweet tea and count the lightning bugs but not get bit by bugs and laugh with you. Yes, he agrees to make room in the budget for this screened-in porch.
Can we please find room in the budget to add a screened-in porch?, I asked my husband. The builders would add it, though, if we so desired and I fought for this. When we bought our current home, it was newly constructed and the back porch was not yet screened in. I am surrounded by my Bible, a journal, and a slew of devotional books waiting to deliver a message that always seems custom-made just for me. I curl up on the Target patio furniture we bought on Mother’s Day nine years ago when I was pregnant with my firstborn, and keep readjusting to find a comfortable seat because the new cushions I recently bought on clearance are not nearly as thick as they should be for a comfortable seat. This is where I sit every morning in my robe, cradling a steaming cup of coffee and sucking in a few deep breaths of oxygen to wake my sleepy self up. I was sitting on our screened-in porch listening to the early morning songs of my backyard bird friends when God told me to get ready.
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