I’m still thinking about that corn.
And the kids. I’m also thinking about the kids.
Now I’m wondering if the first is a warning flare for the second. A bite of time to mimic a longer, far more important span.
A process I can get my arms around to remind me that I can’t always keep them in mine.
You stick these seeds in the ground and you water them and fertilize them give them what you think is best for them and hope hope hope, and then you just sit back and watch.
Because I guess it’s not about you anyway.
And when it turns out great, it’s grace upon grace that it really never was about you.
My friend says babies don’t keep.
Neither does corn. Enjoy it now.
Grace upon grace.
