I have a confession: I am perfectly content to sit on the porch all day long with absolutely nothing to show for it.

I am trying to remember when the porch became such a sacred space. I can remember my mom and her siblings and my Grandma sitting on various porches talking and laughing and sharing life. As a child I loved to snuggle in next to one of them and listen in.

For many years of my life I was so driven to be on the go and be productive, whatever that means, that I failed to simply sit. I think it was when my life took a nosedive and I was left with the reality that I really am a bit of dust in the wind that I rediscovered the joy of solitude.

I found this solitude on the porch. I used to joke that the neighbors probably often looked up from their yard work and activity and said, “All that lady does is sit on her porch and drink coffee.” This would be a rather true observation and a practice that I would like to protect!

Sometimes God uses the porch as a pulpit to speak to me. Sometimes my kids stand behind the metaphorical pulpit of the porch as we drink our coffee and my spirit is filled with joy. Sometimes a friend sits with a glass of wine and the porch becomes an altar.

Sometimes I write. Sometimes I read. Sometimes I listen. Sometimes I’m lonely. Sometimes I’m filled.

Come and sit. Sit with words or sit with thoughts or sit with silence. Sit with laughter. Sit with tears. Simply Sit.