I've realized the thing I miss most about having the boys here: the ability to turn to them and ask them to pray for someone. Three times this week, I've been hit with a whammy that could only be met with prayer. While I know I'm perfectly capable of making the request, and I do, there's something reassuring about my boys coming in agreement with me in prayer. They're serious about their prayer, too. Probably because they've seen the power of it. When I tell them a need, they stop what they're doing and talk to God, right then and there.
On a lighter note, I'm finding some irony in the fact that when the boys are here, I'm the task master making everyone clean. Today is our day to deep clean the house. I looked around and realized I had no desire to do so. Instead, after wrapping up my work day, I sat on the couch and watched When Calls the Heart on Netflix. It's a cute show and I think I needed a couple of hours to make like a vegetable. Or maybe I need my boys to keep me on my toes as much as they need me.
Rolling hills that had been vibrant green just weeks ago were now muted in tone, as if they were taking a deep breath before bursting into the song of fall.