What day is it? I'm not sure.
This day and some others I am grateful for salt.
A simple combination of elements. It's harvested from the sea.
Warm and salty broth that restores little healing bodies after being emptied out in the most horrible ways. Bowls of comfort and restoration, bringing color back to cheeks, sparkle to eyes, life to demeanor.
Sprinkled in my bath to soothe aching muscles from nights of holding hands and heads and wiping mouths, floors, brows.
Sodium bicarbonate sprinkled on carpets, in laundry, in the dishwasher. Working its simple magic and drawing out odors and germs from things soiled with illness.
The salt of my tears that fall from exhaustion, from worry, from inadequacy. I taste them and I'm grateful that I care enough to cry. That I try hard enough to fail. That I have the energy left to keep moving.
The grains of salt with which I take the things my upside down brain tries to convince me are true. The good and the bad, you know. I remember to salt my words to myself and both give myself a break and try to do better.
The crunch of salt in my little treat to myself - salted caramel hot cocoa. Decadent and unexpected. Delicious and necessary. It's my personal reminder to rest and to savor the beautiful, rich things in life that can be so simple and so satisfying.
And this salt. The salt of the words I try to live by:
"You are the salt of the earth...You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden, nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others..."
This day and some others I am grateful for salt.
A simple combination of elements. It's harvested from the sea.
Warm and salty broth that restores little healing bodies after being emptied out in the most horrible ways. Bowls of comfort and restoration, bringing color back to cheeks, sparkle to eyes, life to demeanor.
Sprinkled in my bath to soothe aching muscles from nights of holding hands and heads and wiping mouths, floors, brows.
Sodium bicarbonate sprinkled on carpets, in laundry, in the dishwasher. Working its simple magic and drawing out odors and germs from things soiled with illness.
The salt of my tears that fall from exhaustion, from worry, from inadequacy. I taste them and I'm grateful that I care enough to cry. That I try hard enough to fail. That I have the energy left to keep moving.
The grains of salt with which I take the things my upside down brain tries to convince me are true. The good and the bad, you know. I remember to salt my words to myself and both give myself a break and try to do better.
The crunch of salt in my little treat to myself - salted caramel hot cocoa. Decadent and unexpected. Delicious and necessary. It's my personal reminder to rest and to savor the beautiful, rich things in life that can be so simple and so satisfying.
And this salt. The salt of the words I try to live by:
"You are the salt of the earth...You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden, nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others..."
Who would have thought? A four letter word could mean so much. I especially like your last part :)
ReplyDeleteLove that verse ..
ReplyDeleteAnd I agree with Judy, love what you've done with a seemingly simple four letter word.. :)
That scripture has been on my mind for a couple of weeks and, for whatever reason, the fact that you put it at the end of your post made my heart explode just a little bit.
ReplyDeleteI'll have to try your version of hot chocolate.
I'm so glad color is coming back into the cheeks of your baby, and that you are sharing your salted words with us even when things are hard.
Here's some more salt, do you know it already?: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KyG4hrPvsYU
Indiana's name means "salt of the earth" and today I'm grateful on this illumination on the depths of that.
ReplyDeleteYour light is a beacon, a lighthouse in a dark night.
ReplyDelete"The salt of my tears that fall from exhaustion, from worry" how I can relate to this. I hope that things are all better in your household now. Ps thanks for the tips on uses for salt ;-)
ReplyDeleteWonderful as always and all the more so because you were working with so few resources at the time. Hope everything is better now and hope to see you back 'round these parts soon-ish.
ReplyDeletesalt and light. beautitudes.
ReplyDelete......
“Blessed are the merciful,
“Blessed are the pure in heart,
......