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Every Good and Perfect Gift

“Every good and perfect gift”
 
Sometimes I don’t believe good things.
 
 
People often encourage me to write about my experiences, and this is a thing I’ve noticed. Sometimes I don’t believe good things.
 
It is a trauma response, or so I read. A tendency or response when you’ve lived trauma — moments strung together in a hyper-sensitive fight, flight or freeze response to circumstances when you can’t see beyond survival.
 
No cause for alarm. I’m not living in those moments now. But sometimes it feels like I still am. Because our hearts and minds form habits. Tendencies. So sometimes I don’t believe good things or good people. Even when they’re staring me in the face, in all their faithfulness and trustworthiness. And goodness. Sometimes I still can’t believe. Through no fault of their own, the gifts stumble into the spiral of my history. And the habits I’m trying to break. Desperately.
 
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Sometimes I Wake

Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night. Very often, actually. For a few minutes or longer. Old habits and tendencies from being the only adult in my house. Restlessness and thinking. I sometimes listen to music or watch videos or reels. Sometimes I write my thoughts to get them out of my head – like tonight. Occasionally I even work, to check the thing off that is troubling me. Often times I pray. Out loud in a whisper so the words are more solid – not just a thought. The prayers that we only pray at night. When the tender places in our hearts are revealed. The memories. The worries. The words spoken over us. And to us. The fears. The questions. The plans. Even the joys. Sometimes. It is not as often the joys that keep us up at night.

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farm tales . “I can’t wait for that to happen”

“I can’t wait for that to happen. It’s going to be so fun.”

Baby Girl has always been an old soul. Deeper than oceans, that one. We were sitting on the farmhouse back deck in rocking chairs eating lunch, and she was talking about picnic tables. Where we might put one in the pasture behind the house. And how we could build bunk beds in the middle bedroom. For when she and Travis and Elisha bring their children out here. “We can ‘kid-ify’ everything again like you did for us. And they’ll grow up together, all the cousins.”

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pockets of wonder . Pumpkins

With the arrival of another October tomorrow, I’ve been thinking about pumpkins. Naturally. Their funky shapes. Their rainbow of colors from signature orange to yellows, browns, creams and even blues and greens. The odd “noses” their stems make when cut from the vine. Their unmatched association with fall, my favorite season. And in this case, their reminder of field trips with little ones gone by! These goofy vegetables (or is it a fruit?) are giving me autumn vibes and a wee bit of inspiration today. I hope this mini gallery will give you some fall feels to start the season, too…

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The First Cool Mornings

Wait, what was that? I was walking back inside the door near my studio this morning after a search for a few Fall-ish photos to share today, and I thought I saw a glimpse of pink. I stepped back out and nearly squealed with delight.  Sure enough, the first bloom on our giant sasanqua camellia was unfurling and reaching toward the sun just at eye level. I’d already walked by it on two carpool runs this morning, and somehow it escaped my notice. One of my personal signs of fall, and just like the season, it sneaked up on me! 

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