We now own a patch of land on Whidbey Island. The setting is pastoral. Gabe, Lydia, and Sheba have room to run and roll in the lawn daisies and dandelions. Friends of the family came to visit us, and I heard the word "bucolic" several times. I looked it up, "From the Latin word, bucolicus, cowherd: of or relating to herdsmen: PASTORAL: relating to rural life." Yes, that fits! We have the neighboring herd of black angus grazing in our sweeping view of the wetlands inland of the bay. The cows and calves were herded up this week for different pasture while we were there.
The neighboring farm, so tidy and serene. We could be on Prince Edward Island, for you Anne of Green Gables fans.
Mountains! Mountains have been part of the fabric of our lives. Mt St Helens, Mt Adams, Mt Hood, Mt Rainier, the Olympics, and now we make our home with the sunrise behind Mt Baker and the evening glow over its white flanks.
Coming home from church this Mother's Day, Marshal driving, all together, children in the back seat. As we sat at the table, Marshal looked pointedly at Gabe, and then pointedly at Lydia, declaring to me, "You're a mother!" It's fun to state the obvious as if its an outstanding new realization. Marshal likes to do that, and it always gives me pause and a smile, whether its the statement, "You're married!" or "You're a mom!" I say, "Yes" with a smile, but frequently think, "Wow!" After a decade of being a single young woman, I knew I wouldn't take having a loving spouse or children for granted. They are truly a gift from the Lord. Not a gift earned or deserved. Just a free gift. I knew that if I never received these gifts, my life could still be full and complete....but "Wow!"
