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Some days are remembered for the balance of wonderful or awful they bring. A wedding. A death. A birth. An accident. A loss. A blessing long asked.
And others are simply mundane, simply the biding of time in a march towards a goal near or far. I try to live, always, with the knowledge that these sort of days? They are bulk of my existence. And if I let them pass with no celebration, no glorying in their simplicity, then I have missed out on the greatest part of this gift of life God has breathed into me.
There is simple joy all around, on even the most average day.
Waking up to a happy baby in my bed who has hidden his face just under the edge of the blanket in an attempt at peek-a-boo.
Greeting four of my men —large and small — home from a pre-dawn Bible Study, and hearing them share their thoughts on the discussion around the breakfast table. (While we eat this simply sublime casserole.)
Eager hands making light work of the morning chores.
Gathering my littles for Morning Time and digging back in to our favorite copy of Aesop’s Fables, meeting up with George Müller, laughing and learning with Fred, praying with our Voice of the Martyrs persecuted church map, and reciting the verses we’ve been memorizing all year.
Sitting down to a lunch of leftover curry that has magically become even tastier than they were the night before. (Recipe here. Double the curry powder and add a bag of steamed, frozen California mix vegetables to try it our way.)
Having to skip the requisite after-lunch read-aloud in favor of a flurry of clean up and activity because … we’re headed to the park!
A too-short visit with Mamaw and Papaw on the way out the door as they deliver a ham bone for our freezer. (Next week, we’ll make this classic, but we add carrots!)
A quiet drive on sunny backroads as I journey to a new-to-us riverside play spot for some sweet fellowship with friends.
A play set that is all metal and wood — not a plastic bit in sight!
Sliding, swinging, talking, running, laughing on a gloriously gorgeous spring afternoon.
A heart-felt talk about conviction and courage with Mary Hannah on the way home that leaves me awed at yet another peek God has offered into the bigger story He has been writing all along.
Returning home just in time to finish prepping dinner, then lounging outside and talking with my husband while he grills and children play all around us.
Sitting around the dinner table far too late laughing and enjoying the company of the people I love.
Baths that leave evidence of the day’s joy behind in the form of cloudy, grey water.
Standing outside the bedroom door and hearing my husband’s voice rise and fall as he tells a new batch of children of Laura’s adventures on the prairie.
Ending my evening with teens sprawled on the floor and the couches, a nursing baby nodding off in my arms, and my husband writing his Physics lesson beside me.
See? A simple day. Nothing outstanding. Nothing remarkable. But practically perfect in every way.
ahhh.
sleep well.
xo