Rhythm and cadence and keeping time, marching. Step. Step. Step. Music flowing-with crescendos and rests.
The music of Life plays on.
Ten days past walking under bright sunny African skies and later listening from my bed the study pouring of
rain as the clouds are squeezed. Bright eyes and big smiles offering us hospitality and welcome. Round eyes dancing with glee as they play with balloons of every Crayola color. Two days of travel to arrive over the green, neatly manicured farms of Martinsburg, Pennsylvania. In this respect the Liberians are correct, I think: from here, America is second heaven.
""Mama!" and more welcoming hugs and kisses. Incessant chatter and the "finding "of our luggage tied with yellow ribbons on the return conveyor belt where only two other passengers await theirs as well.
Immediate planning for the birthday of the youngest-turning eleven. The event rivals the arrival of Princess Kate's new royal one. Two parties this year-one for Grandparents and another for friends, makes for a week of planning and preparing.
VBS craft leader-I can do that; I already have that tune memorized. And it is Friday ALREADY.
Next week I expect the tune to slow. I need a SELAH to take in the last month.
I am thankful for the kaleidoscope of rhythms.