The presence and the absence
#32 kid’s swimsuits flopped over the deck rail
Every time I see the kid’s suits like this I get a lump in my throat. The evidence of reckless play, of tanned bodies splashing and calling out over and over, “Watch me!” , playing Marco Polo and getting water up their noses and swimming around and around to make a whirlpool. Sitting this morning before an array of colored towels and deflating rafts my eyes mist and I think, “God, you are too good to me. Please let it last for a long, long time.”
Someday the little suits will be missing. Someday, sooner than I’d like, when I step outside in the morning for my quiet time I won’t find pool toys scattered on the deck and goggles heaped on the table.
I can’t bear the thought.
I’m finding it easy to be thankful for these things, but wondering how I will ever be able to say I’m thankful for their absence.