Comfort

The past three nights I have been unable to work on my book. This is due to one night of exhaustion and two nights of one or two cranky babies in need of constant attention. This lack of creative outlet brought on no small amount of gloom from me. 

I'm continually surprised by how much I crave writing. I need it in my life every day, it restores me. I am currently working on four different writing projects. Rather than feel scattered by that number I feel relieved, because I am free to pour creativity into a specific venue depending on where I am on that particular evening.  I clean the house, put everyone to bed and go to my little corner of the home and write. Write write write write. Write until a satisfied warmth spreads all over my body that I have created something. Truly, a deeper warmth than a cup of frothy cocoa on a cold night. Writing comforts me.  Comfort. What a deep and abiding life long need. Comfort from the familiar, comfort from something special, comfort from companionship. How many forms it can take but what singular result of peace and satisfaction it always brings.

Something rather extraordinary happened on Friday. My mother had left for a long trip and consequently asked her cleaning lady to come and help me at our new home. I was excited to have M. come to my home since she is a cleaning miracle worker, to say the least. M is also a beautiful person and I love talking to her. She has had an incredibly hard life and currently endures a great deal of hardship. 

While she was here we started talking about an old friendship she had lost. M. seemed to still be grieving over this loss, the lady had been a true and loyal friend to her and they had lost touch through happenstance and not by fallout or argument. She desperately tried to locate her friend once M. moved to the United States, but she had no idea where in the world (literally) this person might be. My heart broke for her and I told her that I would try and track this long lost friend if I could. I walked her to the door, talked to her about some gardening plans I have and watched her take off down the path. I watched her leave and thought to myself, "how in the world am I ever going to find this person? I shouldn't have said anything at all!"

Can you believe that I managed to find this woman not three hours after M. left my home? I sent ONE email to SIX people, and before I went to bed on Friday night I had all ready corresponded via email with M's long lost friend. They were happily reunited on Sunday by telephone.  

I do not believe that it is a small world. I believe our world---our great, vast, delightfully ordered, meticulously planned world---is lovingly held by a personal God that wanted to bring tremendous comfort to a small, poor woman by reinstating a lost friendship after twelve years.