Emma is snoring in the corner. There's no real explanation for it that I can see. She sleeps on her pillow in the kitchen, on the carpet before the fireplace in the living room, or stretched out in front of the wood stove in the Millstone Room. The only place she snores in her sleep is when shes in her bed in the corner of our bedroom. It's really no bother; in fact, it's almost like the ticking of the clocks in the living and dining rooms. She is obviously content, and I am, too.
Sometimes it's hard for me to come up with things to write about. It's not that there is any shortage of things for which to be thankful, but most of them don't seem to warrant a great deal of time and attention. Life is full of big events that loom large not only in individual lives, but in entire communities and nations. The puny things that grab my attention are just that: puny. My life rarely consists of major events, but that's ok. I am content. I have nothing to prove, even if I have much more I'd like to accomplish. Like St. Paul, I continue to press on to the high calling of God in Christ, but I have also with Paul learned to be content wherever I am. So Emma snores on, reminding me that contentment is found not in continually achieving or acquiring, but in Christ. He alone fills the void in the human heart, and turns disquiet into contentment. It's a good place to be, and i am grateful to be there tonight.
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