The Rhythm After the Rest

The Rhythm After the Rest

June 6, 2025 – Evening

Earlier today, I wrote about grace and the shift—how breaking from the plan opened space for presence.

Tonight, I felt the echo of that same grace—not in silence or stillness, but in music, conversation, and the quiet power of connection.

Josh came into town and spent the evening with us. We watched Bella go live on her YouTube channel, bowling and laughing with her friends the night before the state tournament.

Her joy lit up the screen—and the room.

After the night of bowling, Bella and all her friends went back to their hotels, and we headed home. Bella went to bed. Barbi was getting ready for bed.

Josh and I hung out in the garage for a bit while I changed out a tire that had gone flat.

We caught up, talked about life and challenges, and then headed to the back porch.

Behind our house, a live band played in the gated community’s clubhouse. It felt like a private concert under the stars.

We sat, listened, and let the night unfold around us.

At midnight, we heard a woman on the microphone say, “Goodnight!” and the music stopped.

Right then, I started taking down the hammock so it wouldn’t get soaked from the storm blowing in. That’s when I heard it—hail.

Not just rain, but the sharp tapping of hailstones hitting the roof.

I rushed to get the hammock down, but in my hurry, I fumbled it and slowed myself down.

I tossed it inside the house, called out for Barbi, and said, “Come on! We’ve got to move the car!”

As I pulled the car into the garage, Barbi was just waking up.

The hail was coming down harder.

I made it just in time.

And that was it.

The music ended.

The storm passed through.

Josh went to bed.

I followed soon after.

Tomorrow we rise early—6 AM. Bella’s bowling with her team at 8, then her singles and doubles events at noon.

It’s a rhythm we didn’t script—but we’re living it fully.

Not every day needs a plan.

Not every moment needs a message.

Some nights, the win is just showing up—fully present, listening, laughing, protecting what matters.

That’s the rhythm.

That’s the work.

That’s the way we become.