A few days ago Jeremy, Livia and I were cuddled on the couch together when Liv turned to me and said, “Mom, you’re beautiful.” Then we had to explain the concept of happy tears to our 3 year old.
Her charm and adoration was geared toward Jeremy this afternoon. She looked at him, nose-to-nose, and told him he had “beautiful eyes.” She’s right, he does.
Finally, Liv pulled out her wee accordian (a gift from Uncle Andrew) and began wheezing away on the thing, making noises that would fit right in during the Wilber Czech Festival. Sung in falsetto, her song went like this: I love Grandpa Bill. Aww.
Renae, Joie, Brook and moi.
Today I am all caught up in my head. Swirling about my mind are problems too big for me to handle, stressors too burdensome for me to shoulder. As someone who typically wears her heart on her sleeve, I often take on others’ woes and count them as my own. And then there are the woes that do belong to me; they aren’t really deep or serious, and yet I am looking at them that way today.
I love this photo because, somehow, the beauty of the sun and clouds, the barely-there kite way up high reminds me to look up (to God for his provisions and saving grace) and out (to the world to see who I might serve). It’s so easy to get caught up in myself, to navel-gaze until I can no longer see hope and light. The solution? Look up, look out.
Why are you so downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God…
Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.
By day the LORD directs his love,
at night his song is with me —
a prayer to the God of my life.
(Psalm 42:5,7-8)