I walked through the cold California morning air to my apartment and swung open the white gate. I didn’t check the mail yesterday, so I slid the tiny key into my little mailbox. The metal door creaked open and stuffed in the box were coupons, a bill and a plastic-wrapped Real Simple. Yes. The coffee was made (thanks, Sandy). I moved my space heater from my room and positioned it in front of my chair. With coffee poured into a turquoise tea cup, I settled down in front of the waves of heat and opened the magazine.
At the front, there is always a picture and a quote. This month’s said
“Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all the time, made new.”
It made me thankful. Thankful that this pursuit of being known and loved isn’t like finding a particular stone on a mountain, then taking it home and setting it on a mantle. Thankful for the work of kneading love to make new loaves each day. Thankful that there is more and more to taste and to discover. It makes me think of the importance of making new memories.
I’m just really glad that life is this way–like bread and not a stone. Being made new all the time. That’s good news to me.