Wednesday afternoon

Still working with limits. The office holds nap space for me as well, which in turn allows space for more to happen here. I never really know what's next.

The children are gone.

My head has cleared

For the next client.

The bent pine out my window,

Framed by glass,

Holds the snow.

My office holds the echo

Of children

Gone home.

Today holds someone new

She will arrive through the snow

To add to the mosaic

The office is building.

More limits

I thought I could work out today. I tried. No. I am learning to listen to the noes, no matter when they come. Sometimes I hear it in the middle of something. It takes more gumption to admit the no in the middle. I am learning.

Sometimes they are found

In the midst of trying

To stay on schedule

Then saying

I guess not

Here I am

Watching the world pass by

Maybe tomorrow

It will be different;

Then again

Maybe not.

Limits...

This is kind of, sort of, a haiku. It contains the idea of one anyway. Limits are meant to be paid attention to, but maybe not religiously followed. Yesterday I moderated the adult forum on forgiveness, then considered the 10:30 service. I heard it from a distance, talking with a friend in the library. Then I considered the annual meeting. This weekend was not a time for large groups of people. I drove home in the snow, happy I had done what I needed to do, happy I had considered the rest, happy to be home.

We all have them.
The question is
How do we live
Within them?

Limits

Didn't realize this was a prayer until the end.

I woke up this morning

Realized once more

I have limits

To the number of people

I can carry,

The number of things

I can do.

Keep me upright today,

I tell our trainer.

Look at the blue sky,

I tell my beloved.

There are limits.

Of course there are limits.

We all have limits.

I drink my coffee,

Revel in three clients today,

Not four.

Limits.

I have limits.

Look at the blue sky.

Keep me upright today.

Amen.