My eyes wander to that tree dropping it's needles all over the floor, and I suddenly remember sweeping up the needles from last Christmas - all the way until June - from under furniture and stuck right there in between the floorboards too.
And I feel it slow, but sure. The release.
That tightness which has enveloped me for days - weeks really - which was Christmas and holiday to-do-lists, and menu plans, and (always) the cleaning up.
Making the perfect holiday can make you right tired.
But this? This moment in time, my moment of grace, this wasn't planned. Wasn't prepared for. Wasn't even a thought ten minutes ago when I sat down to snatch a minute on the computer and try to write something that would be worth reading, and worth writing, after all.
My topic was going to be a "moment of grace". And with coffee mug in hand, I sat down to think back over the past seven days because surely there would be one moment that would stand out and that would be worth re-counting.
But instead of remembering a moment, God hand-delivered one to me.
Grace-moment offered in the space of a heartbeat, and how could I not thank Him for answering the prayer that I hadn't even prayed?
Yes, this is a moment of grace, and yes I do see it and yes, I know it will pass but I also know that there will be other moments offered when I need them, so I won't worry about tomorrow's manna.
I know He'll bring it in the space of a heartbeat.