Life has been moving slowly lately. Every day and every week seems to take longer than it has the right to, as if each moment is vying for my attention. Sometimes this is hard... Sometimes there are moments that I really would rather skip. But I've been packing a whole lotta living into each week, and that's a good thing.
In the last week I have done a lot of living, a lot of tasting of life. I've tasted loss, and am still working through the grieving process. Some days are great, other days are minute-by-minute. I've tasted the joy that God can give in the midst of suffering. I've tasted the concern a shepherd (or in this case, shepherd's wife) feels when she sees sheep headed in a potentially hazardous direction. And I'm tasting again the prayerful vigilance kept over a saint preparing to make their final trip Home.
The last couple weeks haven't been easy... but life isn't supposed to be. They have been hour-by-hour days. Days to trust God with. Days to pray through. Days to learn from. Days to drink deeply from this sweet, beautiful, bitter, hard cup called Life.
And in the mean time, I've been counting my blessings.
97. Watching my hubby at a history exibit
98. An afternoon at home
99. Joyfilled thoughts of heaven
100. An old joke told to new people
101. An encouraging letter from a friend
103. Meeting (again) a modern day heroine of the faith
104. My husband, holding me through the contractions
|Elisabeth Gren (previously Elisabeth Elliot) was in town|
last week. The day I lost my baby, I was able to personally thank
a woman who helped teach me how to grieve.
106. A husband who seasons his speech with wisdom
107. Juicy tasty steaks on sale!
108. Tears, every one of them intimately known.
109. Shade on a summer day