{their father and my father, on the shore of Lake Michigan} On guard, Standing firm in the faith, Men of courage, Strong. Doing everything in love. 1 Corinthians 16:13-14

In the Deep South, late winter/early spring has a give and take kind of way about her. "Here, take a week of glorious, balmy days... and some flowers, too," she says. But then, she gets fickle and takes it away. The cold rain arrived in the night and, once again, a fire burning in the fireplace will be bliss.
Before the winter chill returned, Sister and I gathered blooms one afternoon while we waited for the boys to get home from school. I missed a sweet friend's birthday {it seems I'm often a day late these days}. We pulled together a sweet smelling bouquet, plopped it in a mason jar, and hand stamped a simple card. When the boys got home we made a quick delivery. Even the simplest gifts bring smiles.
Last night, after homework and laundry and dinner and tucking in children, the professor and I sat on opposite ends of the couch huddled under a big, warm blanket. Through head congestion and a double-dose of pinkeye {me} and a sore throat with headache {him} we laughingly wished each other a "happy" anniversary. And such is the way life goes sometimes, but, oh, I'm thankful for this man and for fourteen years covered in God's grace. I'm thankful, so thankful.
A few days ago I was reading in Luke about the angel Gabriel's visit to Zechariah... Gabriel tells Zechariah that his barren wife, Elizabeth, will give birth to a son who's name will be John. This son, he goes on to say, will go before the coming Messiah, he'll be a messenger to make ready "a people prepared" to receive the coming Grace. "A people prepared," I love that... Shouldn't we also be people prepared? Prepared to receive grace, prepared to be messengers of grace, prepared to be vessels of grace, prepared because we're clinging to the Source... the One who is grace.
This week I found grace in an understanding friend, in two sinners remaining one in heart for another year, and in the innumerable blessings showered down on us like the fickle February sunshine and rain.

Winter Sunrise : : Morning Bedroom : : Afternoon Moon
Friday afternoon and evening.... Moments to exhale after a full week. Moments to toss school bags in the corner, forgotten. Moments to kick off shoes. Relaxed, cozy, warm moments. Taking our time moments. Stop to see the baby moments. Playing moments. Moments to chase the cat. Moments for ignoring the call of the laundry room. Easy dinner moments. Thankful moments for another blessed week and a family gathered home. Together. Moments to be still and filled. Grateful.
And Jacob said, “O God of my father Abraham and God of my father Isaac... I am not worthy of the least of all the deeds of steadfast love and all the faithfulness that you have shown to your servant... Genesis 32:9-10

The five of us returned to school on Monday. The going back was a reluctant meandering for four of us, while Sister, of course, was excited and ready, ready, ready! Now a few days in, we're finding our regular rhythm again. Our late December and early January days were simple and slow in the delightful way they should be. It was hard to have the break come to an end, but I'm grateful for the time we had together with very little on the calendar.
Last week we woke one morning to a frigid house only to discover that our brand new, just six months old, furnace decided to go flakey on us. Since then it's been a week of unreliability in the heat department... and during one of the coldest cold snaps I've experienced! With the help of a service team {yes, a team!!}, we've diagnosed the problem and have a temporary solution. In an effort to keep warm during the unpredictable cold-house moments, I cooked and baked myself silly, we sat in front of the fire, and wore our coats in the house. The quilts were nice too. I'm thankful for a warm house today.
One theme that's emerging in our home renovations is that we continue to remove storage spaces... first, the coat closet on the main level became the return for our new HVAC system, then the workroom closet became a utility space, and now we've converted half of the built-in cabinets in the upstairs hallway to built-in bookshelves. The professor worked hard this past weekend to install some custom lighting in them which looks great. In the future, we plan to open up the stairwell to create a light-filled stair atrium of sorts. When this happens we'll knock out a wall and, of course, tear out another closet.
We cheered hard and loud for Auburn {our alma mater} on Monday night. While the win slipped away at the end of the game we're proud of how the Tigers played and for their amazing season. War Eagle!
Today is what Sister calls a home day; no school for the two of us. We've been puttering about in the most quiet and delightful ways... vintage Fisher Price Little People, Frances books, recipes, ballet slippers, tea, patches of sunlight, and chocolate. It's good for my soul to move slowly and quietly, to see and to savor His blessings. I find it best to do this often because His grace is always there and, for me, seeing it is the first step in savoring it. "O taste and see that the Lord is good..." Psalm 34:8

The rain came in the night... and afterward, the late November wind and chill. Gone are the golden-glory, autumn days that I love but the warmth of our home is inviting and comforting. As we go about town on holiday errands, I notice there are Christmas trees for sale at the farmer's market. Holiday errands?! Already?! The children relish a few days out of school. So do I. At home, I cook... we're hosting for Thanksgiving this year... and I savor, as I do every year, the words that capture it all:

In November, the smell of food is different. It is an orange smell. A squash and a pumpkin smell. It tastes like cinnamon and can fill up a house in the morning, can pull everyone from bed in a fog. Food is better in November than any other time of the year. 

In November, people are good to each other. They carry pies to each other's homes and talk by crackling woodstoves, sipping mellow cider. 

They travel very far on a special day just to share a meal with one another and to give thanks for their many blessings -- for the food on their table and the babies in their arms. 

And then they travel back home. 

In November, at winter's gate, the stars are brittle. The sun is a sometime friend. And the world has tucked her children in, with a kiss on their heads, till spring.

from In November by Cynthia Rylant

The house is filled with delicious, orange-y smells. Contemplating simple Christmas gift ideas for teachers one day last week, I even dried orange slices in the oven... a sweet, delicate fragrance. And, there are sweet things... pie! cake!... to share with others. And the fire will crackle as we cuddle our new nephew/cousin. And we will enjoy a meal and we will give thanks for our blessings.
But this year I see hearts that ache, too. I'm reminded that there is an artist, The Artist, creating a bigger and more glorious picture than I can ever imagine. And that picture, full of blessings, yes bountiful blessings, also captures brokeness... broken relationships, broken bodies, broken people, broken lives... and somehow, some way He'll use it for His glory. I don't understand it, but I trust.
And so, I close with two thoughts that have been echoing through my heart in recent weeks as I've contemplated God's bountiful mercy and grace on broken people living in a broken place...
Earth should be a temple filled with the songs of grateful saints, and every day should be a censor smoking with the sweet incense of thanksgiving. from Morning and Evening by Charles Spurgeon
This is my Father’s world, should my heart be ever sad? The Lord is King—let the heavens ring. God reigns—let the earth be glad. from the hymn "This Is My Father's World" by Maltbie D. Babcock
On this day of thanks, and always, may a grateful song be ever on your lips. For there are indeed bountiful blessings, and there is brokeness, but... God reigns! Let the earth, and your heart, be glad!

My fifth nephew made his entrance into the world this week. And we were aflutter with smiles and excitement. And now, we have another to love. In addition to life's regular rhythm we added hospital visits and extra baking, special errands and newborn cuddles to our activities. This is our first local nephew/cousin and we're enjoying the nearness. A sweet week indeed!
While I made cinnamon muffins to deliver to the new family of three, Sister sat in the kitchen and drew a picture for me. It's title, she informed me, is, "Lollipops in Rain" which sounds perfectly lovely to me. I thought of her bright lollipops in the rain this morning when I awoke to fog. The autumn leaves, so colorful and bright against the wet, gray, Novembery canvas of our street.
We scurried around today with grocery shopping and errands. And, there was dinner to deliver to babyland. I crammed clementines into a brown paper sack, tied it with ribbon, and nestled it among our  other goodies. Clementines on a damp fall day, with their sunny taste and smell, make me happy.
And, these words from Morning and Evening by Charles Spurgeon made my heart smile, like Sister's lollipops. I'm reminded that no matter the circumstances His nearness is great and intimate...
"Here, indeed, we have a theme for marveling. Heaven and earth may well be astonished that rebels should obtain so great a nearness to the heart of infinite love as to be written upon the palms of His hands. "I have graven thee." It does not say, "Thy name." The name is there, but that is not all: "I have graven thee." See the fulness of this! I have graven thy person, thine image, thy case, thy circumstances, thy sins, thy temptations, thy weaknesses, thy wants, thy works; I have graven thee, everything about thee, all that concerns thee; I have put thee altogether there. Wilt thou ever say again that thy God hath forsaken thee when He has graven thee upon His own palms."

We spotted it at our local airport last week. This is how my grandfather and my great uncle bravely and sacrificially fought during World War 2. We watched it fly into the sunset, our hearts grateful for all the men and women who have served our country... and for those who are serving.

When my family came in November to celebrate Thanksgiving, my sister commented, "I like your dirt yard." Our backyard is a lush, shady, enchanting place. We love it. But there is no grass. A dirt yard, indeed, with a few scrubby weeds. The professor bought a bag of grass seed and spread it. We're running the sprinklers with the hope that we'll have a bit of lawn this spring and summer.

And I bake bread these days. Bread to eat, bread to give. Lots of bread. And Sister and I enjoy our daytime meals at the kitchen table in front of the big window. And the cat... always the cat. Big Brother loves her so. We made post-Easter Easter eggs that make me happy. We used tea bags instead of onion skins. Then I turned them into egg salad and ate them up. Little Brother is reading his first chapter book. Aloud. To me. He has the sweetest voice and reads with delightful expression. When we're not at home we're at track because Big Brother is a runner. While he runs, the other two run wild. It's good for all of them. Fresh spring air in and energy out! The bees buzz in the azaleas constantly and my violet orchid just keeps blooming. She's a total show-off.

We make our share of messes; sometimes more than our share. {The professor is in the process of tearing out the downstairs ceilings. Dust! And the Legos. Always the Legos!} And we have our grumpy moods. But, being at home is still my favorite place to be. It's lovely and I'm thankful.