blessed beyond measure

Aden has had a busy few months, having opted to play rec sports for the first time ever. He played on a preschool-age team that did a tee ball/wiffle ball combo. Of course Aden insisted that it always be called baseball. And so it was. The season consisted of mostly instructional-type practices, and the kids really learned a lot. Aden now knows the positions and most basic rules of the game. He has a cannon for an arm, with pretty decent accuracy. When he pays attention in the field, he is quick to react and run toward a hit ball. His batting has improved through the season, especially off the tee. The coach tried pitching to the kids some, which Aden eventually caught on to. Gives us something to work on in the off-season. Practices were fun and fairly structured for preschool kids. Unless a train rode by or an airplane flew overhead. Or, you know, when ten minutes into practice a few of them decided it would be more interesting to pull up clumps of grass. ...

Just one month after my Pawpaw Melvin went to be with the Lord, we also said goodbye to my Meemaw Margaret. After suffering a stroke in January, she never fully recovered and had been declining in health since then. Meemaw. Sassy and snuggly, always with a funny story or joke to tell, most always laughing or smiling. She had super powers in the kitchen, able to keep a dozen mouthwatering dishes hot for the start of a meal without using a microwave. And even more super powers with any baby she held, who soon fell under her "bye-oh, bye-oh" spell. It was with Meemaw that my transformation from city girl to country girl began, as she taught me to snap beans and bottle-feed a calf. She also taught me the under-appreciated but vital life skill of eyeballing a pot of leftovers and selecting the exact container that would hold them perfectly so that refrigerator space was not wasted. Wonderful memories of being in her home, surrounded by the warmth and friendship of family...

Tuesday was hot. In the sticky, triple-digit air, we planted and watered a few tomatoes, plucked a few weeds, and lamented over the barren center section of our garden. Oh, corn, how we need you! Then, drenched in sweat, we sat down with icy cold bottles of water and watched our two boys jump in a leftover puddle in the center of the carport, coating the entire floor (and themselves) with muddy water. Which quickly caked and dried wherever it sat. Looks nice , I tell you. This was a rather ordinary day for us. An ordinary day that suddenly turned extraordinary, because it was at this time that both boys decided they were willing to try riding their bikes without training wheels. So I sprinted beside them across the yard and through the hayfield, long-unexercised muscles screaming and poor lungs gasping for breath in the thick humidity. Sure that we'd come across a snake in the field. Sure that if I let go they would fall, and probably fall away from me so that I couldn...

Four years. How? It seems like it should have felt like a long time, you know? And if I think about it long enough, it has been a long time. But then I think some more, and it might have been just yesterday that you were in my belly. The world had no idea what was about to happen to it. You, my child, from that very day have brought life into every place you have been. You have captured hearts without even trying. Those round, deep blue eyes. That sweet voice, and the way your monkey lips smooch out as you talk. Oh, the belly laugh. Your energy, your enthusiasm, your determination. These things that are part of who you are, these precious traits that shout your name to all who love you - these have been yours from the beginning. Gifted to you from a God Who knows exactly how to best use them for His glory. Oh, my boy who smiles with his whole face. You are joy with skin on. You squeeze every ounce of living out of every second of every day. Imagination is endless. ...