When Someone Else Writes the Story.

"Ha-ha," said Eeyore bitterly. "Merriment and what-not. Don't apologize. It's just what would happen." House at Pooh Corner

"The leaves fall on our house
it's like a leaf storm" from Abby's "The Fall Song"

"Five things ," I told him a growing young person "tell me five things that made you happy today." Slumped shoulders, discouraged heart, seeing only the negative. The list of food items and funny happenstance gets listed off to me, and I am hoping and praying the seeds of these are what comes to mind in the tomorrows.

Our computer goes into "rest" status and slides of our history appear on the screen. We say"Oh, remember that? Look at how you've grown! That was a really nice day." I see the me who was bogged down with a yoke I had bound myself to, when He had asked me to take His yoke for it is gentle and kind. My Savior is kind. (Oh so many posts for yet another season!)

The beautiful is found in doing the next thing He writes within my normal duties and priorities. But it always finds a way of becoming more than what it appears at the moment. Like the time I completely gave my heart to Him. The time I let go of one decision, and another door opened. The years I marched around a room singing songs of worship. The times we said ok (albe very nervously) to a direction we felt He was leading us in. It's not about me staging moments. It's doing the next thing. It's remembering even sometimes what He spoke in the light, to help me find my way in the dark.

So Jeremy dresses like a hippy for "hippy day" at school and he writes me an email citing the laughter but that, "but my outfit sure takes the cake. It's fun. Making memories and laughter. What is life except what you make it? Miss you today, enjoy the kids, enjoy the weather, deep breaths and we'll be home before you know it. xo "

So I run around washing the dishes and doing laundry, letting their limbs stretch and run. I soon join them.

We look for leaves, more webs, read our Pooh book at the picnic table, listen to Pooh and Piglet's silly rhymes, and I think, oh just like these little writer's here!, eat jumbo pretzels, let them look for spiders, "Small," leaf rubbings in blue for one (because we KNOW the colors of Autumn leaves, but blue is what my kindergardener likes), and gather the remnants of it all in a little book.

Daddy and bigger siblings get home late and exhausted, a bit worn. But smiles are lit and stories are told as we open the book over the leftover lasagna and warm apple bread. Somehow what I had already known what was best for the day, didn't feel best at the time, but His assignment for the day, happened

and it was so very good.

Blue autumn leaves by Abigail