A miracle has occurred. My youngest is now in kindergarten. He likes it. He actually loves it. I don't have to coax him to go each morning. He gets ready without resistance, rides to school clutching his backpack, and walks into the school building holding his older sister's hand without turning back to look at me, whine, cry, stomp, fuss or beg me to save him from another school day.
I am in awe. For five years, any attempt at leaving him with babysitters or sending him to preschool has been a massive challenge. It has involved lots of pushback on his part, and lots of bribing with candies and other dreadful treats on mine.
Now he is walking right in. And the school is all in Italian, which he barely understands. I just can't believe it. An incredible twist.
And so I sit. After returning to our little cottage, I sit in my armchair at the window. I open my Bible. As the sunlight and fresh, Italian breeze pour in and refresh my senses, the Word of God refreshes my soul.
I cannot imagine how long it will take to smooth out my feathers. I have not had a few hours of quiet on a daily basis for 20 years. How contorted I must be on the inside. How unused to silence, to interior calm. Or to clean floors. Or dinners prepared in advance. Or time for scholarship, teaching, ministry and writing.
I consecrate each moment to God and abandon my will to His. I give Him back the gifts He gives to me, and offer them for His glory and kingdom.
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