When I walk into the room, it has a lingering smell of my morning perfume spritz. I can also take in the faint smell of peppermint and cherry almond lotion. When I look at the gray and yellow quilt, neatly pulled over the pillow, I feel a tiny twinge of guilt for pulling the covers back. I hop up, just because the bed has always been a little higher off the ground than I can reach. I slide my feet deep under the covers and kick off my socks, and wiggle my toes to soak up the silkiness of the well worn cotton sheet. Once my feet have found their spot, I use my newly free toes to grab the pillow that was hiding under the covers. I use great effort to pull that pillow up towards my middle, and I place it under my knees.
I wiggle my body deeper into the memory foam mattress. I open my arms up and make a motion as if I am flapping giant wings. I love the coolness of the sheets. It's such a welcoming feeling. The down comforter feels so silky and soft. I pretend that it has been waiting for me to come in and twist its soft fabric between my thumb and pointer finger of my right hand, as I do nearly every time I climb in bed.
The brilliance of the sunlight streaming in the windows appears brilliant and perfect. The temperature of the room is just right. It's not hot, and it's cool enough to climb under the comforter and be completely relaxed. You can call me Goldilocks.
My head feels the pillow and finds its well worn in spot. The rest of pillow folds up around my ears, as to drown out all the insanity of the world. I breathe in for four slow counts, then take my time counting from one to thirteen as I push as much air out of my abdomen as possible. I do it again, at least 3 or 4 times. "Thank you Jesus," I whisper deep from in my soul. I know I'm blessed to have this moment, this place, a mini fortress to separate me from the world.
I don't want to bunker down forever. Just a few moments. Just enough to connect with the God who loves me. Because, sometimes outside of this room, I feel attacked. I feel worn. I feel used. I feel beaten down by temptation and sin and chaos. But, here, right now. I feel loved. In my safe place. In my good gift from God. Because, when I give myself a few minutes in the afternoon to lay down and relax in my soft bed, I reemerge a woman ready to battle. Ready to shed more hope, more light, more compassion. I can continue to kiss boo boo's and pray for weary friends. I energize the side of me that needs to cook dinner, help with homework, encourage an exhausted husband, and prepare my family for what lies to head tomorrow.
I just simply need my afternoon nap.