This morning I smoothed down the covers on my daughter’s bed and I was overcome with an emotion. It was a praying sort of emotion and I snapped a picture so that I could remember, and write about it later.
Grateful for a daughter, for the legacy of this bed which was my own that my mother had bought with foresight when my parents were a hardworking professor and a stay-at-home mom who wisely bought high quality and then had a college student rent the room for a semester to pay for the furniture. I was still in a crib, I believe, in my brother’s room that semester.
Smoothing down the down blanket I thanked the Lord for my mother, remembered that she had bought this blanket. On the other end of the bed I remembered her buying the sheets for Ravinia one year.
Is making a bed an act of faith? I think it can be, when done thankfully, prayerfully, highheartedly. A small act of faith and love, but one more drop in the teacup of her heart, I hope.
I so much depend upon God holding me, smoothing out my covers, tucking me in at night and giving me his love and joy to do that for my child. She’s been having bad dreams and remembering old ones. I’m hoping that’s the working out of long buried fears, a step in the healing process for her. So the prayers continue in highhearted hope, with thanks and praise to God.