I’ll be watching the windows on the day they arrive. When I see my husband’s truck pull up, returned from the airport full of people I cherish, I’ll run outside, scoop the smaller ones into my arms and spin. In the ensuing days, we’ll eat and laugh, work puzzles and talk. Roam the fields and woods. Over turkey and spuds, salads and pie, I’ll pour them Love from my deepest pitcher.
The next week they’ll fly away again.
Then, gradually, our time together—the memories that I’ve stowed into every room, every square inch of attic and crawlspace, every garage and barn in my heart—will revise or dim or shrink in life’s frothy contrail.
Like all memories do. Good and bad. Yours. Mine.
While we soar toward someday’s wonder, which lasts a whole lot longer.
“In your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” —Psalm 16:11
“Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man,
and He will dwell with them.
They will be His people,
and God Himself will be with them as their God.
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes,
and there will be no more death
or mourning or crying or pain,
for the former things have passed away.” —Revelation 21:3-4
With family visiting and my new book’s manuscript due at the publisher on January 2, I’ll be away from this blog and most of social media for awhile, plunging into story edits, playing dominoes and making pies with favorite people. Meet me back here early January?
Blessings and love to each of you. So glad you’re here.
Until then, pics!
“When you come together, each one has a hymn . . .”
—1 Corinthians 14:26
How to let go.
“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.”
And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid . . .”
“For his Spirit searches out everything and shows us God’s deep secrets.”
—1 Corinthians 2:10
And some throwbacks for you:
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”
“Test me in this,” says the LORD Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it.”
(Sunrise has officially crossed Mt. Baker)
“. . . my God turns my darkness into light.”
Watching Nature, Seeing Life: Through His Creation, God Speaks