I had almost forgotten the blessing of not doing.
This afternoon, when Kieran went down for a late nap, I did not sit at my computer and work on one of my Orphan Summit posts. I did not edit pictures or check in with Facebook or bake banana bread or fold laundry or try to figure out why I cannot get the toilet in the bathroom to stop smelling like pee. (I clean it and clean it and clean it and it's driving me crazy!)
Instead, I grabbed my favorite outdoor blanket and headed for the backyard, where the sun and trees were making lacy patterns on the turf. I laid down and inhaled the bright green smell of freshly mowed grass and I listened to the birds sing and I faintly heard a plane trace a line in the bright blue sky. I felt my pulse slow and I felt an ant zig zag it's way across my foot. (At least, I hope it was an ant. That's my preferred version.) And without even recognizing it, I fell asleep, thanking God for the sacrament of Sabbath.
Maybe this summer, as the days stretch long and the breeze becomes a friend, I will make a point to be not do for a time every day.
Because when I do, my soul returns and my heart is made whole and I remember.
