Joy.
laying in bed half-awake, listening to heavy rain and thunder
having three different people in the last four days independently tell me to give myself more grace
grinning babies waiting at the window as i walk up to the house
walking and talking for hours through neighborhoods with heart friends, hands cupped around our drinks as we vent and encourage and laugh and question and enjoy
dads who cuddle and get down on the floor to do puzzles
the way moms kiss their babies' chubby cheeks- how can they love so completely someone they've known only for a matter of weeks? but oh how they do
"Tia Emily! Tia Emily!" hugs around my knees
...oh, oh, oh, oh...
colorful stacks of children's books
and getting so excited as i find just the right one for a kid who loves an animal, a color, a superhero
constant texts requesting prayer, sharing prayer- the crazy web of connection and prayer and affection in which i somehow get to live!!
moms groaning and laughing when i mess up my Spanish
dandelions everywhere- how can something so beautiful be considered a weed??
the huge armchair in front of the picture windows on the second floor of the library
seeing loved ones in love
hearing of wounds being healed
tank tops
...oh, oh, oh, oh...
praying for the outgoing interns... being so proud of them, and remembering these weeks for me two years ago
Psalms 27, 56, 62
trust: "to firmly believe in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something; to allow someone to have, use, or look after someone or something of importance or value with confidence"
Panera
feeling known in my small group
praying with Christy in my car in the Home Depot parking lot for our interns
five minute phone calls for mutual sanity
Christine and Meghan and Tamara and Meredith
my running shoes hitting the street
a new journal
"the life-giving will and wisdom of God which surrounds us everywhere"
and at the moment, obviously, Iron & Wine.
...light strikes a deal with each coming night,
oh, oh, oh, oh.
1 comment:
This is a beautiful post.
Post a Comment