It's morning and the home is quiet all around, but my ears, they hear the rush of what's coming. A mind has already busied itself with the chores of the day in a list numbering one to forever. The laundry is crying in the next room over to be washed and dried and folded. From the kitchen the dishes call out in their silvery voices to be scrubbed down to a shine, and are yearning outright to be placed back in their cabinet homes. I breathe out the cleansing breath of sleep, and stretch long beneath the coverings.
He comes to me then as he does often and always in my thinking. It's his whispering I really want to hear, but the noise of the others dim his voice. Still, he is patient in his call. Come to Me, you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. He remembers to remind.
It is then that I must choose a voice to follow.
I move the body out and down the stairs to an expectant kitchen. The coffee drips out slow and steady with its vaporous steam filling the room, and I wonder how much time I have before the solitude ends.
Sitting at the empty table with clues of last night's dinner, I open the book of life's truths and focus bleary eye to page. Thoughts wander through the heroes found between its binding; the faithful, the brave, the honest, the wise. I am left with a critical eye focused on me who doesn't hold a likeness to any one of these. I read on to learn, to remember, to change. To remember to change.
I read and fall fast in love again with the ancient words written by inspired poets. They dance through me in their comforting way. They are all around me, moving in me My mind holds them hidden, and it's the tough days that coax their singing free from their sacred home.
The pages close as the sound of shy little feet shuffle closer. I pick her up and hold her close to me. Eyes close as the time of silent speaking begins its end, and I pray that I remember.
Psalm 119:105-106Your word is like a lamp for my feet
and a light for my path.
I will do what I have promised
and obey your fair laws.