Cold and crisp here in the deep South. In my office, and my hands are like icicles. I imagine how the men feel who are working this minute putting on my new roof. Please hold them in prayer.
I can hear the presence of the workmen above me. What a blessing that presence is, giving me the roof I need. They would likely be surprised to know of my warm sentiment. So would the clerks at the Dollar Store. I just love our Dollar Store. Sometimes I get hugs from the clerks, and always a smile and friendly hello. Those are priceless. I think most of us discount our presence. Sometimes a presence doesn’t have to say or do anything at all, just the being there makes a tremendous addition to another’s life. I’m not talking about a presence that sucks one dry, but a presence that gives off energy and life and makes you a better person just by being in their presence. And I realize that very often, deprived of that presence, I’ve succeeded in writing one for myself.
I think my presence to myself is the most important of all, and half the time the hardest to accomplish, with the tug of the world, with one part of my mind going one way and the other drawn another. So, just this minute, I’ll be present to myself and see what comes out for me to write.
“Few delights can equal the mere presence of one whom we trust utterly.” ~George MacDonald
Then let me trust myself and be delighted.