Looking for gratefulness in the most inconspicuous of places. My husband bought me a two-person swing for Mother's Day. We have enjoyed it almost every day since then. The first time we swung in it, we recollected swings of our past. Both our grandmothers had porch swings and we told "swing" stories. My great aunt had one hung in the tresses of an old, unused wind mill. I fondly remember swinging, attempting to make it hit the upright legs of the windmill, but to no avail.
I almost fell asleep in the new swing one morning recently. The morning was warm and the sun shone such that my meditation turned into a nap. All's well when I can nap like that. The motion of swinging must be an inherent nap-producer. We do it to babies to get them to sleep.
This new swing has been that kind of constant invitation to rest and relax. I am grateful for the call to rest. I know God is interested in resting because He did it and invites us to reach for his eternal rest. I wonder if there are swings in heaven?
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