Crunching numbers that won’t bend. A laptop closes. Quiet tears of frustration on one side, a sigh of resignation on the other. Two bodies lay in a divided space, still and tired.
Throughout the next day, thoughts of each other pass back and forth, amidst dishes and meetings, children and proposals. Two parties carrying their own loads and their common burden, struggling to place it at His feet. And yet, a calm comes.
Pushing back thoughts of the night before, restless fingertips pluck the sheets on one side, a gentle arm reaches on the other. Two bodies embrace in a small space, warm and at peace.
Another crawls atop, coughing and sipping water from his cup, squirming his way into the middle. The two sets of fingertips stretch to touch over the divide. In the morning, tired eyes open, a smile forms. A fourth has included herself in the pretzel of arms and legs.
And another day begins, the burden a little lighter, under the weight of large blessings.
Jennifer Vignola Davis 