this fall –
I have taken a break from blogging. I sort of needed it.
kid-filled life – four so beautiful, unique, life-giving, exasperating, watchful. gifts to us.
homework – isitdoneornot? haveyoudoneallyourreading? struggling more than previously with our kids’ current school situation. asking God to break through.
the cold is coming – changing out summer clothes for winter.
emptying the last of the cardboard boxes; hanging pictures ’round the house.
sustaining friendships – far and close.
pulling out fall decorations for the first time in two years.
friends who have left holes in their absence.
soup nights on monday. pasta on tuesday. crockpot thursdays. weekend homemade pizza and movie nights (when we can). these weekly rituals have become oh! so important.
a community/business next door. four days a week and the quitting time is 3:45 pm but in reality the nozomi project is part of our nights and weekends, dinner conversations, and driving prayer. The women I work with are part of my whole world. I love that.
having a few friends over to celebrate halloween, much to our children’s delight. it came and went last year without notice or fanfare – that can’t happen twice! The three oldest made up their own costumes– so much fun being creative.
a team — much like volleyball… we are setting to each other, backing each other up, at times yelling words of encouragement to each other when we miss a ball or become too weary for yet another serve. They revive me so often. Our times this fall of praying have been rich, frequent, joyous — Jesus has met with us. i love them dearly. i know they, like Jesus, are for me.
new homes being built; others still being demolished; too many quiet empty lots that used to teem with life. still too many hanging clouds of sadness here.
persimmons. in salads. tonight – thick slices, just by itself, after dinner.
figuring out what this next season of ministry and life up here should look like. expectant. sometimes wanting to hide because of challenging relationships. Isaiah 53. thankful for his touch on my heart. ready to obey. humbled. impatient.
holding a 14 year old today in my arms while her body shuttered in pain, sobbing. Hold on tight. so many bad, hard things the past two and a half years for one so young. crying together cuts through all that is not important in my fall.