blessed beyond measure

March 22. His other birthday. He's long known what was done for him that first Easter so long ago. And last Wednesday, he so sweetly thanked God for loving him so much and asked Jesus to be his Savior. Then turned and beamed at me. I've never seen him glow like he did in that moment. Our family joined the angels in their rejoicing. And Trey? The Holy Spirit is real, and has been steadying his heart and mind since that day. Security emanates from him. We praise, praise the Lord. For salvation and forgiveness. For Trey, now born twice. He is new . Then He who sat on the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.” Revelation 21:5

The snow didn't kill the yellow. Not a flake to be found, as the weather persons remind us once again that the wisdom of the world is foolishness to God. Even the frigid days following our non-blizzard couldn't touch the yellow either, and today they stand tall and bold against a cloudless baby blue sky, continuing their jolly, graceful dance atop a just-so-chilly spring breeze. The electric green grass that will soon need mowing, weedy and patchy and soft as silk to bare feet. The abundance of fallen limbs that should make good fodder for our fire pit if we ever manage to lug it out of the basement again. The beautifully brown, lumpy garden biding its time. Hopefully it realizes how much we need a good take this year, after a freezer mishap did in our waning stash of corn from two summers ago. There is work to be worked, but oh there is play to be played. In the newly daylit evenings, I rock on the porch and walk miles and miles and referee driveway basketball games an...

It might snow tonight. Ordinarily, and especially since we've only had one snow this season and winter really only lasted a couple of weeks anyway, I would be stoked and already planning the board game extravaganza. Except all I can think about is how sad it would be for spring's beauty to be smothered by frost and wither away. The yellow. So much yellow. So delicate and bold and fresh and new, and as my Trey said so appropriately in last night's prayer, how we love for things to be new. And feel new. Don't go, guys. You're touchable joy, the way you dance in the wind and pop the color of everything around you. That gigantic forsythia, years overdue for a haircut, is poised to take over one side of the house within a few years. And I might just let it. I talked a big game a while back about keeping the blog going for memory's sake when I didn't feel up to it. Which is a load of poo. And the memories are missing. Brandon had a birthday. Ad...