beck-about-1-2

About

The window is pushed up all the way, as far as it will go, so just the screen separates me from the wanting, grown-up world. I’m tucked into bed. My little body swimming in an oversized t-shirt (this is still my go-to approach to jammies). I pull the heavy covers up to my chin, snug and tight, with just my nose peeking out.

 

The sky is black and a distant train sings its usual nighttime song. Other homes nearby have their windows tightly locked, at the bottom, the thick glass pushing back against the cool air. They’re missing out. I hear the tops of the trees sway and what’s left of the leaves dance together, whooshing and rustling and I know a good one is coming soon.

 

The November night is cold. And as I close my eyes and drift to dream, the quick burst of air sweeps through the mesh window and sustains me. It dances across my cheeks and my tiny brown eyes open and smile. Fresh air is a tonic for my soul. It refreshes me. Comforts me. It gives me freedom to say, “Oh hey there, God. Thanks for being here. Yeah, sure, go ahead and whisk this worry away.” Out the window. Absorbed by the swirling leaves and His love.