I left work Thursday with good news, shaking off the dust of the week as I drove east. Prayers came easy, for a time of rest, that I might feel like myself again, that I could catch the rhythm of close relationship with Christ again. Montreal greeted us with a hug, and “What would you like to eat this weekend?” In the hours that followed, in the streets we walked, the hills we climbed and the music that happened upon us, I am deeply grateful for gift upon gift.
Since we began the drive home from Ottawa, a box of Suzy Q donuts balanced on my legs and Bridgehead coffee clutched close, I’ve gone through every moment of the weekend, in the name of remembering and savouring. Their acceptance stands out, something I didn’t know I was craving. It was good to be me, good to be heard, good to rest, and good to see the ways my Father is with me.
(Image via here, after the street art festival)