Thank God for good friends.
Friends who bring wine to choir practice when they know you’ve had a crappy (series of) day(s). Friends who stand in your driveway and cry with you when you say, “Why does everything have to be so HARD?” Friends who send you links to articles and reflections that challenge you to be less SMALL than you want to be. Who gently push back, yet without judgment or loss of love or good opinion, when they see you not living up to who you want to be.
Friends who offer their back yard haven to you for a wifi-free, quiet place by running water to work for hours.
Last year I went to this friend’s gazebo once a week to work, and without exception, those days were incredibly productive days. And soul food, besides. It’s a dream come true, being able to sit in shelter and yet be outside, to have electricity to recharge the laptop and yet be in a place where there are no distractions and nature is all around.
Last week I returned to that favorite writing spot for the first time this year. I have always focused my gazebo time on fiction, but last week I was in between projects: one book awaiting agent feedback; the next book awaiting critique partners’ feedback.
So I spent my time cutting a freelance article down to size, and then I played with a text for a liturgical song.
And I soaked in the presence of God everywhere.
I discovered a little hollow in the gouged-out bank of the creek. Quite by accident, I laid down to ease my hurting back and discovered that the hollow perfectly fit my body size and shape, with last fall’s leaves tucking me in with the perfect mix of weight and give. It was like being cuddled by God.
No wonder this place allows me to do such good work.