A Circle of Quiet: The little red bench

"If I sit for a while, then my impatience, crossness, frustration, are indeed annihilated, and my sense of humor returns." ~ Madeleine L'Engle

With the passing of each year, I have waved farewell to a bit more of my extroverted self. Perhaps with five children and a communicative husband, it is more that my extroversion is now used up in the privacy of my own home. But even at home, amidst these interesting and complex individuals, I find the need to break away for some daily quiet. We have a small house, so over the years I have sat on the broken steps in the garden, leaned back in a camping chair in the corner of the driveway under the inky night sky, or grabbed my camera and tromped in the woods to find new foliage to photograph all.by.myself.

Now I have the perfect spot, just outside my bright red front door. In my search through thrift stores, I came upon a little bench. A little red bench. I walked up as the proprieter unloaded it out of his pick-up truck, and I knew right where I would put it. On the front door deck, by the ivy, and I could even picture it with garden boots or camo helmets tucked underneath.

With a view of the sunset at night, or the glow on the valley across the way in the morning, it is my place to sit and be quiet. You see, if I don't find time to be quiet, my life no longer makes sense, and the noise around me builds to a cacophony. I need to sort out my thoughts, to regain my purpose in order to live an intentional life. I might read or pray or think, but sometimes I need to rest first. Like dirt settling in a glass of water, the clutter in my mind sinks and things begin to clear. Then the prayers of my heart can rise, and I can return to the busy life inside the red door.