In the beginning there was one woman married to one man. A man strong and gentle.
In the beginning there was one woman married to one man and after many years she bore twins. One girl. One boy. Small. Fragile. And soon there was only one. A girl who grew delicately with dark hair and coffee colored eyes. Gentle like her Dad and quiet like her Mama.
And then there was another boy. Fair and broad. Silly and loud. Who grew in another Mama’s womb, but, miraculously, had become this one woman’s.
Life became hers to mold. Called to be their Mama, she spent time nurturing and caring. Time taking trips, washing clothes, reading stories, picking up toys, and listening to bedtime prayers.
And in the spring of her thirty-seventh year there had been a decent, a splitting, and a new beginning.
That one woman and that one man sat on a bench and marveled and nothing was said but fingers linked tight and a slight grin could be seen.
Summer swelled with the ripening of the harvest and this one woman swelled right with it. And when the jeans grew too tight, she boldly bought a few new things and didn’t let it slow her down.
During this ripening, life was happening all around her. She found herself sitting in a church baring witness to a marriage designed by God. She sat beside a hospital bed thankful for a life saved. She sat in a car to travel east, tears spent mourning the loss of an uncle. Then she smiled and helped celebrate the arrival of three new babies born to new Mama’s.
Between travels she brought in that harvest. She picked, and canned. Preserved and froze. And before it was all done, she sat that one girl and that one boy down to open school books.
When October came around, and the calendar changed that one woman had no idea the change that would come like a storm and change her too……
searching through storms