tuesday this week, Colin and I did the pick-me-up run in our neighborhood, returning neighbors garbage cans and recycle bins from the road to their garages. bundled in hats and gloves and coats, for the first 20 minutes or so we made quick work of the first couple of blocks, keeping our blood pumping and body temps up. about half-way through, I dropped a couple of big garbage cans at the side of house, and turned back to look for Colin. he was standing in the middle of the driveway, a recycling bin hanging limply from his hands, his eyes staring blankly ahead.
"hey, you o.k.? what's going on.?"
sluggishly, his head swiveled to look at me. then a spark returned to his eyes, a certain animation reinhabited his body, and he was fully alive and present again.
"I guess I was daydreaming, Dad." a pause. "I think I just got out of focus."
laughing, we finished up with that house, and continued our project. we were cold and tired when we were done half an hour later, but as usual, invigorated by the experience of being preoccupied with bearing (admittedly humble) blessing.
couldn't help thinking, recounting Colin's turn of phrase to Ronni later, how easily I get out of focus. and how something like hanging out with Colin, running from house to house, breathless and breathful and the same time, always seems to bring me a little more back into focus. gives me a little more clarity. about myself. about others. about God.