Abudance
The first Saturday in August is awash with abundance--a riot of peaches, a whole box of them, more than we could possibly slurp down, zinnias replenishing themselves in the back yard, bright and sweet tomatoes ripening in the sun, a new batch of sourdough--a vat of bubbling, perfectly sticky dough, rolled into loaves, now rising for the last time. I just came back from a joint baby shower, also abundant. Replete with fruit of every variety spilling across the surfaces of the kitchen, so many babies in so many big bellies, so many dear friends swapping stories of summer adventures. The real marrow of the time was not the delicious spread, but the time of prayer and sharing word of encouragement about motherhood. Together, with a few moments removed from the thick of our greatest work, we can catch our breaths and remember just how sacred and significant our mothering really is. But despite these gifts, I'm having a hard time. My arthritis has flared up, really bad, this week....
