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.
Reminding ourselves of this all important lesson as we head into the Thanksgiving season.
A good reminder for today. And every day. With each new rising of the sun, comes a new measure of God’s unending mercy.
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!
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!
October is here! A few cooler temperatures arrived just in time to welcome the new month, and we spent part of yesterday putting out our harvest decorations… halloween trinkets we’ve collected over the years, fall kitchen linens, berries and vine garlands, reminders to give thanks, and pumpkins, pumpkins, pumpkins! Later this week, we’ll add our scarecrows to the front porch — one for each of us, plus their dad as a memory — to welcome us home each day.
Last night, we watched “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” with dinner — our official fall kick-off tradition. I love how every one of us has our favorite parts to the Peanuts classic that’s turning 50 this year, and even though my little ones are growing too fast, that doesn’t seem to keep the laughter away as we revisit the antics of Charlie Brown, Linus and the gang.
This month, we’re planning trips to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park for fall school break in a week or so, and later in the month, we’ll head back to the farm to celebrate my birthday with s’mores and pasture walks through Busy Bee. Fall often seems like a new beginning to me, which I’ll take. I’m determined to slow down and take time to enjoy this favorite season!
Thinking of fun times ahead, I put together a printable October calendar with cut-away artwork to enjoy… Take me to your candy! Indeed. You can download at the links below. Happy October!
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.
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.