On the Instagram account for The Drafting Desk, Lindsey and I, from the very beginning, have posted a scripture verse every Sunday. It was Lindsey’s idea, and I immediately agreed it should be something we do consistently. After all, where better to discover freedom than in God’s Word? (Learn more about The Drafting Desk, our monthly email, here!)
We fell into a pattern of taking turns, each selecting verses for one month at a time. I took October this time around, and at the end of September sat down at my computer to plug five weeks’ worth of verses and captions into our calendar.
This morning, I opened Instagram to post our Sunday verse—a verse I chose for today’s share almost a month ago:
As I reread the words and the accompanying caption, a smile spread across my face, and I began to laugh. Continue reading “Day 22: No coincidence”
On top of my piano sit two vases: one full of eucalyptus sprigs, the other containing a mix of sunflowers, daisies, azaleas, roses, mums, and sea holly.
Both bouquets came home with me late tonight, leftover table decorations from a women’s dinner at my church—the first event I’d ever been assigned the task of organizing.
For most of the week, I battled nerves and doubt. Why in the world did anyone think I would be the right person to take the lead on this—to take the lead on anything? Me, the introvert. Me, the girl who’s been logged out of Pinterest so long I don’t even remember my password. Continue reading “Day 21: Autumn bouquets and brown paper”
When I settle down in my favorite chair in the living room, one of my little people inevitably climbs onto my lap. My sitting seems to send out a beacon of some sort; it calls to them. Sometimes when one sees the other in the coveted spot, she’ll attempt to pile on as well—a feat that usually ends with squeals, or someone getting kicked in the face, or both.
I hear myself saying, “My lap isn’t big enough for both of you!” and I’m hit with a pang of grief for days past. When they were babies, I avoided thinking much about them someday getting too big for this—when the thought did surface, I pushed it away. Savor the moment. Continue reading “Day 20: Sitting together”
“I don’t want to go to bed.”
The shower has been running for 25 minutes. I can hear singing. She hasn’t washed her hair yet.
Speaking of hair—one of the girls cut her own yesterday. And no, it’s not the one you’re thinking. I’m still upset about it. I don’t want to be upset about it.
I’m longing to curl up in my chair and watch TV. But I begged God for this gig!
I hear the bedroom door open and close with a whump; here she comes again. This is the fifth time I’ve walked her back to bed.
“I love you! Sweet dreams!” Please, just go to sleep! Continue reading “Day 19: Bedtime, round two”
A dear friend gave me a copy of Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts earlier this year, and while my multiple-books-at-a-time habit has kept me from finishing it just yet, I’ve been reading a chapter here and there in the months since. Ann’s discipline of recording God’s gifts inspired me to do the same. I’ve been woefully inconsistent about writing in the gratitude journal I started, but this month’s writing project feels like an extension of it in some way.
I love photography. Maybe even more than I love writing, if I’m being really honest. It’s not something I’ve ever desired to pursue as a profession; it’s a hobby. It’s something I do for me, something I’ve been doing since I was a child with a Polaroid, snapping pictures of my dolls and stuffed animals lined up against the wall or propped up by throw pillows. Continue reading “Day 17: Freezing time”
Thank you God for praying. Thank you for beds. And thank you God for all the orange juice and cheese pops. And thank you for your clothes. I just love your clothes. And thank you God for Batman. And thank you God for Jesus.
Daisy is three and a half. Her bedtime prayers often go on… and on… and on. And I should really start recording them, because they are pure gold. Continue reading “Day 16: For cheese pops and Batman”
I didn’t intend to write this today. But sometimes paying attention means letting yourself remember.
Today, October 15th, is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. It’s not a day I keep on my calendar. I’m not even sure I’ve ever mentioned it before.
I’ve touched on our miscarriage in writing—here, here, and most recently here. It’s not a story I’ve documented in full though, I’m only just now realizing. It feels better suited for sharing quietly with other women in person with tears and coffee, too raw to surprise unsuspecting readers with in a blog post. Continue reading “Day 15: Awareness”