I love waking up before the rest of the household, when all the house is silent.
No voices.
No cats running around.
No corgis squeaking squeaky toys.
No background noises from media on computers or cell phones.
But I also love those same sounds once the day is really awake. That same type of silence would be out-of-place, I think.
Years ago when the children were young on an exceptionally weary day, I lay on the couch to nurse the baby to sleep and drifted off myself for a short bit.
The older kids had scattered to friends' house.
I remember waking up to the very quiet house and realizing that would, one day, be my reality. And I wasn't sure I liked it.
In college, several of us owned the same poster. Mine hung on my water closet door. The poster was about how life was full of contrasts, and that what made life meaningful.
For instance, having the flu meant you could stay in bed and lose weight. Having a cold meant you could say in bed and eat.
Or nights of going out and having fun would become dull without nights of staying home with a good book and hot cocoa.
Maybe that's why God created seasons, in nature, in life.
Maybe?
Thoughts?
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