Giving thanks for so many things, but especially the people in my life who love us fiercely.
In the school room, staring down stacks of books, and loving these place holders in the pages. Prepping literature packets and history projects. The year is starting soon and we'll be back into a new hustle. Sitting poolside with Kellie recently and we're both soaking in the last of summer.
"This year you're going to ask me how my week went, and I'm going to say, 'It went great.'" Looking forward to new rhythms.
From the kitchen, new recipes from Pinterest. And tasty plans in queue for upcoming tea parties with Erin.
I am creating a life-giving home, and a welcoming, loving, inclusive and safe space for learning.
I don't want to forget God's faithfulness, still. Or the good things he brings through hard times. Grace. It stares back to me from the pages of a photo album, my ancients class and the still of their smiles. I remember how I entered that classroom charged and left doubly energized--dear, dear grace. God is good. And he is good to me. And I can trust him to be God.
I am reading books on bento lunches, The Live-Giving Home by Sally Clarkson, Uninvited by Lysa TerKeurst, and about to open the pages of Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Evangeline whispers from the pines, the forest primeval.
I am praying, yes, I am.
I am hearing the peeping, chirping sounds of birds outside, my husband working away in the garage, the distant hum of a lawn tractor. My kids are upstairs playing a game, and I have several yard piles to dispose of.
Around the house, a sense of stillness, quiet and wait. A new school year coming, a new season emerging. A puffy jacket hangs on the arm of the coat rack, and I'm anticipating the first of fall walks with Erin.
A view of my favorite things:
|getting ready for back to school|
|last of the summer splashes|
|we love you|
|morning baskets for everyone|
|the biggest blossoms from Wegmans|
|home, sweet home|
A few plans, some upcoming travels and old favorites. Field trips and connecting with friends.
At the table, plans being drawn out for tea. The spoons, the tea pot, the carafe of raspberry lemonade. Little cakes and sandwiches on little plates. The settings and delight. Poetry for the ears, a vision for our eyes, and our hearts full.
There's no place like home.
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