In that sunny barn I played waltzes and old-timey tunes. They were not perfect but the more I practiced the easier they came. The goats couldn't stop watching me when I started to strum but about ten minutes later they made nests in their straw-lined pen and chewed cud. Any moment a kid might be born to the sounds of songs as old as this farm.
As I was playing. As my dog lay beside me. As the goats chewed. As the sun warmed my back. As the music swirled from the barn - as all this happened an Ameraucana hen was laying an egg in a nesting box a few feet away. I could hear the grunts of the pigs in the distance. The sheep on the hill baaed. Merlin snorted. My small world felt safe and perfect.
I have set up my entire life to facilitate moments like this - and I am telling you even with all those ten-thousand decisions - perfect moments are rare. All the more reason to love them, pray they come again, share them here.
I hope your Sundays are full of good things.
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