What you do in your house is worth as much as if you did it up in heaven for our Lord God. We should accustom ourselves to think of our position and work as sacred and well-pleasing to God, not on account of the position and work, but on account of the word and faith from which the obedience and the work flow. ~ Martin Luther

Monday, July 26, 2010

Dear Mattie

Dear Mattie.

I watched you this morning. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window squares into the fog and saw the love of my life doing chicken chores. I saw you stand on the step there for a minute or two, hands on hips, staring who knows where. I watched, you completely oblivious, and thought about how wonderful it is to have you. I wondered how I would get through another week with you gone.

The first thing Addie Mae did this morning was say "Papa? PAPA?" in her husky, still half asleep voice. The children played out under the turkey run all morning, pounding nails into boards and making places for their tools using the tool bench you built for them.

I did laundry and washed your shirts. I cleaned the kitchen and saw the cutting board still with ingredients from your leftover homefries. I found beauty in it and realized the beauty was in the piece of MEMORIES you left. Even if those memories were just of homefries.

You are everywhere. You are in the potatoes and garlic on the counter. On the tongues of our children. Under the turkey run, in the boards of the tool bench. You are in the freshly cleaned chicken house and the already full watering trough for the cows. You are in our smiles, in our eyes, in our thoughts and on our hearts.

And that is the ONLY reason I will be able to survive this week.

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