Today I woke up with dreams in my eyes and an adventure in my bones. The morning was crisp and clear and splashes of orange were on the ground as the leaves finally started to fall and die. There was fog on the road as I drove out to my parents house. The puppy, wriggling with excitement, greeted me at the door. I read George MacDonald with Dad by the fire and we both commented how rich the words came. The smell of wet earth, decaying leaves and blue sky hit my nose and it was as if I was a child again, running free against the cold and effortlessly sweeping life along with her passion. Fall was here. My heart felt like it was spring.
I home to find a box of Rooibos tea sitting on the counter. I stood there for a moment and stared at it. I knew that Sara must have seen it at the store and bought it, due to my incessant rambling about how much I adored it. I eagerly ripped open a package and smelled the teabag. Tears welled up in my eyes as memories flooded back.
Mornings at the apartment on Rose Bay, talking horses and country living and Jesus with Carla.
Late nights songwriting on the back patio at the Lane Cove house, Tyson curled up by my side.
Winter rainstorms at Grandmas, rationing the precious tea so that I could have just one more cup to remember...
As I curl up here with my steaming cup of red tea, I realize that it's been a long year. But the taste makes me remember that not all days have to rush. They can just be. And He knows what my heart longs for. It is in quiet moments like these that He whispers, "I have not forgotten." He still knows what makes me come alive. He always will.
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