Friday is here. I hope you have either a relaxing, lie-around weekend where your butt never leaves the sofa or a spirited, fun weekend where you never stop to sit down. You decide.
In my world, we almost decided to make an offer on another house but then realized that the decision would’ve been hasty and that we should just close on the sale of our home before jumping into anything else. Giving us the time we need to explore our options and choose the home that best suits our needs. What’s hard is trying to quell the urge to canvas the area and choose a house, like, today. But wait and clear our heads we will.
My gracious in-laws have opened their home to us for the interim between now and when we move into our next house. A relief for us but yikes for them. I’m sure our kids will be somewhat disruptive and/or messy. And while our state of limbo and the juggling act of keeping the peace in a home that will suddenly become full and hectic will most certainly present a challenge or two, the gift of time is a wonderful thing. The gift of being able to pause and think deeply about where we want to call home for many years to come.
This post is sort of like a road that goes nowhere in particular but I had a thought unrelated to house hunting yesterday about this mole on the bridge of my nose. Stay with me. I noticed that when I see my profile in the mirror the mole sticks out quite a bit. It’s not like I go to cross the street and my mole is 2 feet ahead of me. It’s larger than a pinhead but smaller than a pencil eraser. Do people notice it? As mothers have that unique ability to focus on their children’s imperfections, mine will sometimes say, Did you ask the doctor about removing that mole? Occasionally she’ll add, It’s so unsightly.
Anyway, it occurred to me as I looked at a side view of my unimportant, non-life-threatening mole that my friends most likely don’t see me with the same set of eyes as I do. Nor do I see them as they do. We see eachother, it seems, gently.
I mentally reviewed some dear friends. They’re all lovely in their own ways and fantastically different from one another. Some are tall and lithe, some are petite and curvy. There’s my friend with skin that stays clear and tan, naturally, all year long. One has smile lines that light up her entire face when she grins, revealing her inner happiness. There’s my friend who makes the most endearing face that brings her eyebrows together when she talks about the sweet things her kids do. Another has the most beautifully shaped lips and whether she’s wearing lipstick or gloss or nothing at all, they look gorgeous and pouty and kissable.
How do they see themselves, I wonder. What I know for sure is that what is inside them comes forward – the goodness, the generosity, the patience, and thoughtfulness – the gifts they were born with glowing for everyone to see.