God's Plans for Father Tim

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"You're sighing, Timothy."

"Wondering when Stuart will get off the pot."

"He's retiring in June and consecrating the cathedral--altogether, a great deal to say grace over. You'll hear soon, dearest."

She handed him a mug of black coffee, which he took with gratitude.

So here he sat, retired from nearly four decades of active ministry as a priest, toasting himself by an open fire with his good-humored and companionable wife of seven years, and situated in what he believed to be the most breathtakingly beautiful countryside in America.

Why bother, after all, about some "challenge" that may or may not be coming. Hadn't he had challenges enough to last him a lifetime?

His wife, on the other hand, was ever drumming up a challenge. During their year at the farm, conveniently located twenty min-utes from Mitford, she'd decided to accomplish three lifetime goals: learn needlepoint, make perfect oven fries, and read War and Peace.

His wife, on the other hand, was ever drumming up a challenge. During their year at the farm, conveniently located twenty min-utes from Mitford, she'd decided to accomplish three lifetime goals: learn needlepoint, make perfect oven fries, and read War and Peace.

"So how's it coming with War and Peace?"

"I despise telling you this, but I haven't opened it once. I'm reading a charming old book called Mrs. Miniver."

"And the fries?"

"Since Dooley comes tomorrow, I'll be conducting my next experiment-to see whether soaking the potatoes in ice water will make them crispier. And I'm definitely using peanut oil this time."

"I'll peel and cut," he said. He hadn't seen any activity around the needlepoint plan, so he declined to mention it.

"Pathetic," she said, reading his mind. "I'm all thumbs. Learning from a book is not the way to do it. I've decided to let Olivia tutor me, if she has a free day now and then. Besides, having lunch with someone who also wears eye shadow might be fun."

"I'm definitely a dud in the eye shadow department."

She thumped into the wing chair opposite him and took a sip from her coffee mug. "And what about you, dearest? Have you accomplished all your lifetime goals?"

Oddly, the question stung him. "I suppose I haven't thought about it." Maybe he hadn't wanted to think about having any further goals.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the wing chair. "I believe if I were charged with having a goal, it would be to live without fretting-to live more fully in the moment, not always huffing about as I've done in recent years ... to live humbly--and appreciatively--with whatever God furnishes."

He reflected for a moment and raised his head and looked at her. "Yes. That would be my goal."

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