The Lighthouse

the lighthouse

12 September 2008

The simplest happiness

It’s been a rainy day. The kind where you’re glad to be indoors with a good book. I have a good book: a lovely Georgette Heyer I either have never read, or haven’t read in so long I forget what it’s about and enjoy as if it were new. I’m not reading though…I have words pressing on me, wanting to be set free.

I’ve set up the laptop on the dining room table, and from here I am part of everything happening in the house, and yet separate from the action. I am an observer in the lighthouse. From here I can see my sister reading Jane Austen on the sofa, and behind her, stands St. Joseph in a lovely transom window. Through the window I see trees in variegated shades of green. Because of the rain, the trunks and branches are picked-out more darkly than usual, providing a sharper contrast between the transient and what will survive the winter. The boys are in the other room, watching a typical, high-adventure type of boy movie, happy as clams. (Are clams happy? I’ve always wondered. Personally, I would not enjoy sloshing about in the water, getting sand in all my assorted nooks and crannies)

This is a perfect example of how deep happiness lies in simplicity. It has not been a day of whirlwind activity, constant stimulation, shopping, or entertainment. I have been in the presence of love…love of my family, and the deep abiding love of my Heavenly Father.

07 September 2008

Rainy Sundays

There is great wisdom in God's design. Labour is offset by rest, in our days, weeks, years, and lifetime. A Rainy Sunday is one of those lovely occasions of rest. This is a day to feel mellow, to slowly reflect on important questions, like whether to have a cup or tea, or go for the hot chocolate; to read Jane Austen or Georgette Heyer...or just flip idly through the glossy pages of a decadent magazine. On a day like today, I feel still and silent inside...the incessant chatter of You Should is absent, and I can hear myself breathing. This is a day for listening to Dvorak or Duffy, with a well worn journal on my lap and the perfect pen within reach for when inspiration strikes. This is not a day for getting outraged over politics or world events. I am not going to fuss about budgets or housework. This is the Lord's Day, and He is asking me to hush.