A is for Agape
It’s cold outside. We used to live in Wisconsin, not that kind of cold. But for those of us living in mild Colorado climes, it’s cold. So, we didn’t venture out this morning. That’s unusual for us. We’re the get out of bed early, take on the day kind of people (well, most of us are, anyway).
As I sit here under covers, typing away, I can hear my family bustling around below me. The kitchen is humming and I can feel it even from a floor above. I can smell it, too. There’s a sweet and savory smell wafting through the vents. It’s almost tempting me out of bed.
Also, there is music. My husband sings loudly while my daughter hums in her sweet quiet voice. My son is no where to be heard in the singing department but there is a distinct clomping going on. I can only imagine him hopping from one place to another. Lately, stillness has eluded his ten year old self.
Eventually, I will find my way down the stairs and sneak a waffle (their weekend breakfast of choice). I may even participate in some of the singing and clomping. But for now, I am content to sit and type, stare out the window at the piles of snow on my balcony and be glad I don’t have to be out there in that cold (but not as cold as it could be) winter day.