Living-Deliberately.com

You know what that means? What that looks like?

Today it looks like a grandfatherly country man named Mushy, driving up to my house in the rain with a pick up truck loaded heavily with wood, chopped and ready to stack. Said he knew we were too new to know where to get good wood, said he didn’t want our children to be cold, said he already had the wood sitting there and wouldn’t we like it.

I almost started crying right there in the driveway. He wouldn’t take a cup of coffee or tea; I didn’t have cash to slip into his cab. We just had a nice conversation and our boys enjoyed talking and unloading it with him, despite the cold rain soaking all of them.

Mushy works at the same company as David does, driving the truck. He just heard David talking about wood, followed the poisony-ivy saga, and knew he had a way to bless others.

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Yesterday we had friends over for dinner and one of the kids (theirs? ours? we aren’t sure) found this flashcard of the word “this” and placed it on their plate.

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Up the road is a little dog, some kind of terrier/beagle mix. He was dumped there about two weeks ago wearing an orange bandana for a collar. He sits and forlornly watches the traffic, sometimes pacing along the side of the road, sometimes sitting and waiting. Today Andrew went over and tried to coax him away from the road to eat and he wouldn’t come. Despite sitting in the open rain all day, being cold and hungry, he mournfully waits for his  owners to return for him.  He’ll probably die of a broken heart if he doesn’t get hit first. Later we saw someone else try to encourage him to jump into their truck. He just sat there and watched, unable to fathom an end to the life he once knew.

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