Susan LaffertyApproaching October. In a year that beats all. And it occurs to me. I can’t remember this year’s verse.
Typically, I ask the Lord if there’s a verse to focus on throughout the year.
And I write the chosen verse out. Meditate on it. Consider applications along the way. Note similar themes in daily Bible readings that year.
Today, I’m searching. It’s September. And no 2020 verse is written on my spiral-bound notecards. What?
It’s one of those days. Weeks. Seasons. In various places and spaces of our life. And I struggle with restlessness. Discontentment. Distraction.
Hungry for something I can’t quite put my finger on.
In the middle of such a season, I read John 4. During morning time in His Word. And pause on the verses that come after the woman at the well heads back to her village.
The conversation between Jesus and His disciples.
My parents are cleaning out cabinets. And bookshelves.
They’ve done this before. Purging. For moves across states and across the world.
But this is different. A time for downsizing. Studying space. Deciding what will fit in the next spot.
They’ll move to a smaller place. One of these days. So now they are paring down. Letting go.
They push things into my hands when I express interest in a painting. A book. “Take it.”
