“They say a person needs just three things
to be truly happy in this world:
someone to love, something to do,
and something to hope for.”
A winter storm blew through on Tuesday. Rain turned to ice mid-morning and our shrubs slowly leaned stiff into place with each freezing drop.
By lunchtime, icy roads meant no more trips to town, so I pulled on thick pajama pants and curled up on the couch with hot soup and a sandwich filled with warm cheese. I watched for snow from the living room window, and by late afternoon- yahoo!
Just like ice cold confetti floating down from a silver-white sky.
Snow doesn’t happen but once every few years around here, so you understand why I had to pull on my boots and take a few pictures.
Today, I’m painting more wood on the second floor, while Kevin finishes a song on the first.
This house was dark and empty for seven straight years, but now there’s music in her soul, and I’m convinced she was built to blossom.
I’ve been hearing (daily) from one of the other adoptive Mamas while she’s in Haiti. She and her husband walked through the big green gates at the Three Angels (for the first time) last Saturday, and my pulse quickens whenever I see that she’s written. There’s no telling how many times I’ve read and re-read her updates. It’s like I can’t read them hard enough, do you know what I mean? It’s hard to believe I’ll be jotting down the details of my own experience there very soon, too.
And guess what?
Sweet P has our photo book.
On day 2, my friend said he carried it around “all. morning. long.” and climbed up next to anyone sitting still so they’d look through it with him. She said, “Layla, he was OUTLINING your FACES with his finger and babbling.” She said, “He is so ready for you to come and be HIS.”
See what I mean?
Can’t. Read. Hard enough.
Feeling incredibly thankful for Love, and letters, and hope that outlines and babbles today.