Unpacking another mother's bag has undone me today. Unfolding tiny, faded shirts and pants and placing them in empty drawers that were not their planned destination. Thinking of the hands that tucked them one by one into the bag. Folding away days, maybe weeks, maybe months of time. Did they linger over the task?
I lingered. Over the
unpacking. I bent over my task of unfolding and cried. Praying as I withdrew each small bundle.
Make her whole. Placed each article in a drawer.
Bring her peace. Closed the half-empty drawers.
Bring her you, Father.
{Photo: Along the path to our new swimming hole today.}
