Blues and yellows
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.
Aden lost his first tooth.
Both boys worked with their grandfathers to build awesome Awana Grand Prix cars, and Aden even won a trophy for design. Oh God's mercy that He would allow both of my boys to win a Grand Prix trophy in their lifetimes.
Life has kept going, as it always does.
I can't shake the sadness. It waits for me. And I know why. And no, I can't share why.
All my devotions lately have been about being thankful. Finding grace in gratitude. I really do see it.
Trey volunteering hugs to me, just out of the blue for no reason at all.
Going to get photos off the phone, knowing I had only taken maybe ten over the last month, finding dozens and dozens of Aden's goofy selfies.
Watching from my curtain hole the amazing story of God's love for me, told through our Easter drama again this year.
The happy yellow daffodils and wispy, flowing, flowering weeping willow trees. Oh please don't die.
Blue but thankful.
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.
Aden lost his first tooth.
Both boys worked with their grandfathers to build awesome Awana Grand Prix cars, and Aden even won a trophy for design. Oh God's mercy that He would allow both of my boys to win a Grand Prix trophy in their lifetimes.
Life has kept going, as it always does.
I can't shake the sadness. It waits for me. And I know why. And no, I can't share why.
All my devotions lately have been about being thankful. Finding grace in gratitude. I really do see it.
Trey volunteering hugs to me, just out of the blue for no reason at all.
Going to get photos off the phone, knowing I had only taken maybe ten over the last month, finding dozens and dozens of Aden's goofy selfies.
Watching from my curtain hole the amazing story of God's love for me, told through our Easter drama again this year.
The happy yellow daffodils and wispy, flowing, flowering weeping willow trees. Oh please don't die.
Blue but thankful.
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