We read from Zephaniah and I paused to ask, “What is delight?”
Blank stares from the faces in the bunk beds.
“God delights in you it says. What is delight?”
Rocking in grandmother’s lap with my eyes closed while she hummed “Love Lifted Me” up against my ear.
Swinging with my big sister in the smell of cut grass, the sound of crickets, the blue dusk, Saturday night, Dad’s grilling burgers.
Hot vinyl car seats in the blue Ford after church in the Spring.
My hand reached for and held in the dark movie theatre.
Naked and unashamed and unafraid.
A grand piano in an empty room and nowhere else to be.
A four year-old in a tutu, hair in a bun, on tiptoes.
Trying hard to lose at Horse in the driveway.
Small brown hands skipping across my hair and skin setting off giggles all around me.
Cartwheels on a beach.
When Gresham answered. “Ice cream. God delights in me like I delight in ice cream.”
And Penelope. “Drawing.”
Gabriella groaned. “Like I delight in sleep.”
Penelope sketched a picture of her humidifier and then some flowers while we prayed – thanking God for all that delights us. Then it’s lights out, the day is over, and God stayed up to sing.