“A Blessing in the Dust”

A Blessing in the Dust
From Jan Richardson’s Painted Prayer Book

You thought the blessing
would come
in the staying.
In casting your lot
with this place,
these people.
In learning the art
of remaining,
of abiding.

And now you stand
on the threshold
again.
The home you had
hoped for,
had ached for,
is behind you-
not yours, after all.

The clarity comes
as small comfort,
perhaps,
but it comes:
illumination enough
for the next step.

As you go,
may you feel
the full weight
of your gifts
gathered up
in your two hands,
the complete measure
of their grace
in your heart that knows
there is a place
for them,
for the treasure
that you bear.

I promise you
there is a blessing
in the leaving,
in the dust shed
from your shoes
as you walk toward home-
not the one you left
but the one that waits ahead,
the one that already
reaches out for you
in welcome, in gladness
for the gifts
that none but you
could bring.

 

My cousin Katrina shared this on her blog, thinking about the friends who became family over the last year.  This spoke to me, especially, because of the move Dr. Wile E. Coyote and I will be making to Kentucky to begin our lives together after we are married.  I have always had the opinion that the people you are with make the places you go special. I love the flat prairies of home, while even a trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota can wear me out.  Who knows what living in the mountains of Kentucky will be like.  There are blessings in the dust– in the little things, wherever you go and wherever you leave.  This path where life has taken me is great, and I am so excited to see what comes next.  Oh, the places we’ll go!

I won’t say too much, because too many thoughts and emotions come to my head to write about decently.  I see blessings everywhere.  In the coming, in the going….even when you wanted to leave but you stay (last summer) or you wanted to stay and you leave.  In the smiles that greet you different places you go, in the familiar or new things you experience.  It’s just great.

 

Blissfully,

Anna