Love Interrupts {Living The Story}

It’s after 11:30PM when I finally fall into bed. I hadn’t intended on staying up that late but there’s work to be done and so, it just happened that way.

It’s seems like it’s only minutes later I hear her calling out to me in the dark. She calls my name once, and I wait–sometimes she does this in her sleep, and by the time I reach her bedside, she’s drifted off again. I lay still listening, hoping this is one such time. but again, she calls out to me, “Mooooomy”, this time, louder, angrier. … I’m sharing this story today over at BibleDude’s Living the Story column. Join me. 

 

PS: I’m sorry it took so long, but Holey, Wholly, Holy: A Lenten Journey of Refinement is now available for the nook. Yay!

How He Loves Us

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I love this song.

Subscribers, view the video HERE.

PS: There’s still time to enter to win a signed copy of my book, Holy, Wholly, Holy: A Lenten Journey of Refinement.

Cherished

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It’s Friday–iIt’s time to let our hair down a little and let loose a few pent up words. Around here, on Fridays, we write for just five brief minutes. That’s it. No more than that. Skip the red-pen editing, and let the words be as the are. Then, take that brave step and share them over HERE, with other word weavers. Lisa-Jo is our hostess, she chooses the prompt. Will you join us?

Today, it’s Cherished.


He smiles as he walks in the door, I can see that he’s tired but he puts a good face on for us, this wild rambunctious band of boisterous souls. I’m at the stove and the kids are everywhere. He steps over the dog and the clothes and the Christmas decorations still out–waiting to be stashed away.

He acts as if he doesn’t see any of the mess, while I wring my hands about all the things I didn’t get done today.
I wonder how he can act as if he doesn’t see. I see everything and can’t hush about my failed accomplishments of the last 12 hours, while he just sits and smiles.

I can feel his warmth and the living evidence of his adoration that all clamor for his attention. We’ve managed with so much grace, to build this family, this life–all by God’s merciful and good hand and very little of our own doing.

He provides and we curl into each other on the couch, tired, full–cherished by each other.
He’s home and whatever the day has become, the edges start to blur when he is finally here. My other half, my better half. 

By the time the dinner is done and the children have been tucked, it’s just us. Just for a bit. We’re bone-tired and we laugh a little about how early the morning comes, and I wonder out loud to him, how we ever survived those short baby-waking nights not too long ago.

He reminds me that it was all grace and he’s right. All of this is. It’s not by our own hands, but rather we live the life of children cherished by a God so big, who steadily teaches us daily how to love each other well.

I fold into bed, the morning will come so quickly. The wilds of the next day come with the sunrise. He’s beside me, and together we face this cherished life.

 

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