We meet on a cold and rainy Saturday, praying through liturgy and psalms and inviting Father, Son, and Holy Spirit to have their way in our hearts and minds. We laugh together, and we cry together, and I try to scribble down all the beautiful, holy moments, but there are too many. We are living the mystery together, and it is not lost on my heart how very far I’ve come to arrive at this moment. It is not lost on my heart how very far I still have to go.
We agree that wherever we go from here, our steps must be small, practical, tactile, and solution focused—because it’s tempting to want to change the world, and all too easy to drown out the call to love and be loved by the person right in front of us.
I squeeze my husband’s hand during the sermon, return to the supermarket for the forgotten vegetables, pray for a friend’s wife, scour the house for the lost library book, read another Mary Oliver poem, count the hours till I can unroll my yoga mat, and marvel when the baby learns a new word. I search for spaces to make more room. I try not to worry, and to remember my homework from therapy: don’t be afraid to show my joy.
After a hiatus, Switchfoot finally has a new album out and I am HERE FOR IT.
Comedians of the World on Netflix (some aren’t great, but a couple have been hysterical).
From around the web:
Two minutes of pure, unbridled joy. You won’t be able to stop smiling.
These words from Ann Voskamp have kept me sane and grounded.
I return to this beautiful post often.
Need a reminder to not give up? You’re welcome.
Unashamedly geeking out over this list.
Other things currently saving my life:
I’ve made this peanut butter pie twice in the last month. No regrets.
Going to bed early and drinking lots of water.
New favorite sneakers.
The block button (and all the people said amen!).