I am alone. Alone on the busy patio at Panera. Alone with a frozen lemonade and my iPad but surrounded by the busy chatter of those gathered. I love the laughter and the conversations that catch my ear. I love that I don't have to talk.
I am an introvert. No shame there. Silence is the fuel that fires me.
"They call me Mrs. H," laughs the lady with short blond hair. She sits across from a friend with a long ponytail and sunglasses. Mrs. H. has carried the conversation for the past 30 minutes without ponytail getting in a word. She is excited about life, about God, about her mother and about prayer.
At the table across from mine sits an older lady in a blue plaid shirt. Her husband brought out a toasted bagel and prepared each half. She takes hers with thin layer of cream cheese but he prefers butter. He must have been hungry, polishing off his meal in a hurry. She takes her time. Savoring her half and mug of coffee, he a glass of ice water.
A couple, on break from work, ate their sandwiches while planning a party. He tried to keep the numbers down, around 10, and requested beef jerky to be on the menu. She wondered who would help them set it all up, perhaps his musician friends?
I think of Evie. She was excited to go back to Vacation Bible School again this morning. I curled her hair and dressed her a fancy short set. My little mud puddle lover looks so grown up and acts so grown up around her peers. It's sweet, bittersweet, to leave her behind though I must admit that I have relished being alone for a few hours.
What is it about needing words that makes them so elusive? I am attempting again to write a piece for a contest and find my brain blank. I am working to recall a time or a person or a place of which I can write 2,500 words and yet, nothing. I thought perhaps a frozen lemonade and a table in the sun might awaken my sleeping brain.
The patio is clearing out. A new crowd begins to gather. The lovely ladies next to me bow their heads and one begins to thank her Heavenly Father for their time together and the lunch before them. She says amen and adds "God can do anything." I take this as my cue, the changing of the guard, the encouragement that God is able and the reminder that my little fairy will be soon waiting for me with popsicle stained lips and stories.
What a gift, these minutes on the Panera patio. I leave with a thankful heart.
