We're having ourselves a good time lately. A trip to see family in Texas, a birthday party for friends, a few field trips to the zoo. Plenty of mundane tasks and chores. A pile of laundry sat on my couch for days. There is leftover chili in my refrigerator. I see it every day I reach for the milk and I should just take the 5 minutes it requires to remove the tupperware, dump and scrub. But I haven't yet.
I'm convinced the amount of food and various items on the floor of my car could sprout legs and hop out if given the chance.
And something about the pumpkins and football humming in the background has triggered a sadness in my heart, forgetting the pain because His redemption and restoration reigns supreme, but the daughter in me misses my daddy. A lot these days, I have no reason why.
Back to the laundry, I'm so far behind every basket in every room, even the overflow-catch-all basket in the laundry room, it's all full. But I ran out of detergent and forgot it both times I went to the store this weekend.
Yet by looking at pictures from the week, you would only know these undercurrents that exist if you were inside my heart. Or a closet in my house.
Behind every picture, there is a story. A story of effort and sacrifice for the moment.
Maybe a story of whimsical choices to leave behind responsibility and choose the moment instead.
Maybe the memory captured was the mere break in the story from tantrums and learning moments, a quick smile. Her laugh instead of whining.
A story of a mother and daughter learning. Her, learning to love endlessly and give from places the enemy whispers have nothing left, reaching far deep into His cup of living water for the strength and passion He designed for her to operate from.
Her, learning to give grace to a mama learning to steward and care for her in a way that will call out the destiny she is created for.
Behind every picture, there is a joy that cannot be photographed or contained. We are in love.
We are a family.
Stories of littles being celebrated, sweet friends turning 5 and already changing the world. Standing on fences, sipping lemonade and having cake, playing with friends and knowing they are loved beyond measure.
Beyond the apron, she imparts the kingdom to all around her. Extending His affections and love in her gentleness and servanthood.
And she makes a mean latte.
And this baby.
And we celebrated and will continue to celebrate her. How evident His healing and restoration beautifully weaves throughout her life.
That I don't bother anymore to wipe spit up off of my shoulder because I know soon, it will dry and the smell can be covered up with a splash of perfume.
How He breathes life into places parched for truth and grace.
How much we love each other and can't put into words the gratitude that runs so deeply.
How in unexpected moments, the Lord's nearness overwhelms and places of sadness are met with a joy and comfort only delivered by a Savior who carried it up a hill, on brokenness.
Thankful for this man who loves me in my weakness and chooses yes every day.
Thankful for this house of sleeping babies who create a soundtrack with laughter and joy.
Thankful He leaves the flock of many to seek out the one who is lost.
Thankful He stood on the porch and watched, how He ran to us throwing on the robe, welcoming us home into sonship and covenant.
We are grateful.