It was one of the few chores that I actually looked forward to as a child: another way to get outside and catch the breeze! My Mom would pile up all the rugs in the house before she ran the "sweeper," as we called our vacuum in Small Town Indiana. And my job was to stand on the porch and shake all the dust out of those old throw rugs. Sometimes I got so caught up in watching the sky, or listening for the birds that the rugs were a little too well shaken out.
I think I know how those rugs might have felt.
There are days when I look skyward now,
and I am the one
being shaken and tossed.
And I find myself asking my Lord if this shaking
isn't just a little TOO WELL done?
But if I let myself listen, with ears that are open,