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Archive for sketch journal

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We woke up early this morning to the sound of a small thunderstorm! It’s been quite a while since we’ve had rain in the South, so it was exciting to hear the drops hitting the roof. Who knew a rainy day could generate excitement? Sometimes, perspective is everything.

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Reminding ourselves of this all important lesson as we head into the Thanksgiving season.

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A good reminder for today. And every day. With each new rising of the sun, comes a new measure of God’s unending mercy.

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It’s not a perfect democracy. Not a perfect process. And they’re never perfect candidates. But this right — this privilege — is one of the reasons this whole experiment got started… “in order to form a more perfect union.” So, even when our citizenship stretched us. Even when it requires us to step outside what’s easy. Even when it requires us to make a hard choice, we VOTE. We speak our voice freely at the ballot box. Because many in our world don’t have that privilege. And many died to make sure we do.

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Baby Girl and I got to see the movie, Trolls, yesterday for a sweet friend’s birthday party. We loved it! Great story. Great animation. Great SONGS!! And great messages. Like this one from the soundtrack… Hey there world… I’M NOT GIVING UP TODAY!

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This past summer, I was determined to capture every day with my little ones at home with me. I got into the habit of recording at least one fun thing we did each day in my calendar. Most days it ended up that the fun and amazing things grew and leaked out of the daily boxes in my planner. The words and sketches crept across the lines so that when I look back at the weeks now, they are almost a blur of memories. I also recorded at the top of each week a countdown of how many days were left in summer vacation. It was a little hard to see the days ticking away, but mostly, it served to remind me to take advantage of every fleeting moment.

When “back to school” time hit along with new schedules, busy times with client projects, and some always emotion-filled anniversaries, I found myself losing that habit of marking out good things with each day — moments worth capturing and remembering. Over the last two months, I feel like I’ve been treading water, unable to hold on to anything, much less the little moments of blessing that I know permeate each day. The blessings and joys are still there. I think I’ve just misplaced the discipline of reminding myself of them. So, I’m starting the habit again! I have a new Shinola weekly planner with nice blank boxes for each day. For the last two weeks I’ve been filling them up with little things and fun things and heart-waking things that remind me life is moving forward. And I want to notice every moment. Baby Girl is like a lab lesson in those reminders. She gives herself whole-heartedly into whatever idea she has, and she doesn’t want to miss a moment of what fun experiences may come. I don’t ever want her to lose that or to let it get drowned out by tasks and things and worries. I’m reminding myself as much as her: Find something amazing in every day! And hold on to it.

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There is big excitement with my crew because later this week, we are heading out to spend Fall Break in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park! At least in a cabin right outside the park. We haven’t been there since before Baby Girl was born, so I’m looking forward to letting her see one of my favorite places. I hope we will see some great fall color on the leaves. We’re planning to explore Gatlinburg, visit Cades Cove as an entry adventure in the park, and I’m most looking forward to a lot of down time soaking up my babies in this new experience. I’m not sure if we’ll actually get to climb a whole mountain, but we’ll explore whatever rocks and streams we can find!

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This came to mind today. Things change. Circumstances change. Sometimes relationships and families change. And, sometimes things look bleak or discouraging. But, tomorrow will be new. Dreams are still possible. You can still move forward. Never, ever give up on hope.

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This is one of those hard weeks for me. It marks four years since my husband, Mike, died. I keep looking for the time when these types of anniversaries don’t require me to retreat or take time off or climb out of that deep reservoir of grief and memories I seem to slip into. Each year is a little different, and I think a little easier. This one is easier than last year, and I’m trusting next year will be easier still.

My little ones were so young when he died. I sometimes wonder exactly what they remember. Baby Girl was only four at the time. This year, she’s lived as long without her father as she lived with him. It will take longer for the boys to reach that milestone, but they’ll get there. When those memories they do have rise to the surface, I find myself trying to shore them up. They look to me for confirmation that they really do remember what they think they remember. That their dad really was like what they think they remember. That he really did the things they think they remember.

It breaks my heart. In the way the detailed level of my own memories sometimes does. But, I’ve realized that one of my greatest services to them as this loss — this absence — meets each new stage of their upbringing is to help them remember. When they can’t remember, I’ll help them to be as sure of their dad as they can be.

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