Girded with Strength

Last week, I traveled to my parents' house to help them move away from it. My three-hour drive passed quite pleasantly, with one hour of memorized hymns (99) and two of lovely classical music on the radio (100). Before I reached them, my parents and my brother who sings to me on the phone (57), I passed by the one remaining old shack on the country dirt road (130).

Just the week before, my new eye doctor (73) had told me my vision was still more than perfect with my corrective lenses, and the evening light was perfectly beautiful as I made my familiar approach.

The day before, I had held new-born butterflies on my finger (89). I threw out my schedule to do it, leaving dishes in the sink and a lot of packing to do before I left. But they were worth it, and my mind visited their beauty and tranquility more than once as I packed my parents' store room and painted their walls, as a little girl and boy gave me hugs and giggles of delight in the midst of chaos (101).

My friends opened their house to me after my bed traveled from my parents' home, and their house, surrounded by fields of Grass Widows (109), as well as their company (122) girded my soul and body with strength (115). God Himself, amidst my many friends and inspirations, has renewed His peace in my heart (126).