After a day of rain, wind and clouds, the sun came out today.  After living in Oregon, the rain doesn't bother me as much as it used to.  But there is something about the sun, especially during quarantine for COVID19.  It allows me space to breathe in this confinement. Periods of restlessness and anxiety attack me as my mind scurries forward.  How long can this go on?  I try to rein my consciousness back to the present, back to my comfortable yellow house filled with people I love.  We have what we need.  Food, water, shelter, a cupboard full of games, movies and each other. Soon my senior will leave to embark on her own path for life as she leaves for college.  Cherish my time with her, even as she spend time secluded in her bedroom.  She is still here, somewhere under my mother hen wings. 

It is Sunday, the Lord's day.  I sat on my couch and looked at the picture of Christ on my piano. My husband knelt and blessed the sacrament as our children sat around him.  He was blessing it for them. Pleading for them.  Words of a Father, asking for blessing for his children's souls, entreating them to remember Jesus, the only peace in this life and the next, and petitioning His Spirit to be with them.  It was very personal, the way the Savior wants the sacrament to be for us, intimate. 

We sang hymns of praise to Him.  I felt His spirit in this place.  I felt His light streaming down on me, trapped or free.  It is still there.  Yesterday, even in the bluster, there was a moment, when the sun broke through the clouds.  He never leaves. That comforts my mother heart as it stretches with children who leave the bundle of twigs and branches I call my nest.  He will still be there.