Giving thanks to God in community for His gifts ...
Re-reading Radical.
Re-reading The Importance of Being Earnest.
Re-reading the hand written note from my Gramma.
Philip's safety in the storms.
The pond I imagine my grand kids fishing in.
New socks. Just for me.
Baseballs.
Softballs.
Cheerios for the spectators.
Sleeping children - sprawled limbs, deep breaths, peace.
Time to listen for God.
Rest.
Trust - it cannot be earned, it is simply a gift to be given.
A kiss goodbye.
A hug hello.
When hurt surprises, responding with a reflex of forgiveness.
When hurt is sadly customary, forgiving them again.
When hurt is my fault: courage for quick apologies and hope for similar grace.
I hold the book over my chest as I read in bed; each new page scrapes gently across my gown.
Little hands clasp together to "Thank Jesus for our lunch."
Towels on racks - ready for action.
Rangers jersey.
Toenail polish.
Netflix mailers.
Oatmeal bars.
Goat meat tacos.
Carrots and hummus.
BLJ: "Um ... Your hair doesn't usually look like that."
CDJ: "Um ... You don't usually see it before it is finished."
"Well, I didn't know if I could trust her because several times she has taken advantage of my innocence."
- the 16 year old son referring to a classmate offering a breath mint.
"I'm NOT too little to go fishing with you, Daddy. I am big. See? My shirt is big. I am big!"
- the curly headed 2 year old in a campaign for Sunday afternoon activities.
