Signs of summer life

I think I must be missing something. Days are flying by, little feet, tanned by sun and dirt, are growing, growing, growing. I've already harvested spinach from the garden, and the plants are bolting. Can it be that another summer is already here?

Sign #1 A Day for Mama

Breakfast in bed, lunch prepared by my not-so-comfy-in-the-kitchen husband, a marzipan masterpiece fest on the porch, loved ones doing the things they love most (boys and bikes).

Sign #2

The end to an amazing year of pre-school, an unexpected, unasked for year of the blessing of friends and sweetly nurtured growth.

Sign #3

Cicadas emerging from 13-years' rest to sing their 2-week deafening song from the shade of the trees. Apparently, God makes albino cicadas.

Sign #4

Raspberries ripening in steamy sun, the canes bowing their heads with fruit.

Welcome, summer, to Lookout Mountain!

Raindrops on roses....

Lines from Frauline Maria's famous ballad "A few of my favorite things," have been wafting through our halls in the past weeks, thanks to Teya and her amazing ability to lift her little voice and belt it. I always felt that Maria's sentiments were, well, a bit shallow and maybe even silly. Bright copper kettles? Warm woolen mittens? Come on, Maria, don't you have anything better than that?

Lately, though, in an attempt to turn the typical car-ride complaints to thoughts of God's gift to us and how all of life is a gift, we have developed our own lyrics. From climbing rocks and trees, to birthday and graduation celebrations. Freshest peonies blooming, blue skies, the drill of cicadas emerging from holes and shells, swimming pool days, popsicle afternoons, drowsy heat. Mmmmm. Good stuff. I'm sure the musical theater people will be knocking on my door at any moment.

Small mountains to climb

Cousins who love us!

Flower sniffing

90 years of loving the life God gives

The THEN....

...and the NOW.

These are a few of our favorite things.

The gift of calm

We are thankful for calm. For many hours, two days ago, we scurried up an down the basement stairs to the safe of under the stairs as storms and tornadoes wreaked havoc in our community. Much of the day, an eerie groan filled the sky as warm and cold collided above us. It was a strange day, and in the aftermath, much is still strange.

We emerged after the first round to find the very large tulip poplar - grown for my entire life - upturned with rooted stonewall still attached. I gasped as I realized that the 70-foot tree had crashed on the corner of the house, essentially between the core of the house and my car. Only a 15-foot margin for error, and really, it should have landed on one or the other.

Through the unfolding day, tornadoes touched down on the mountain and swept through the valley. The Ibachs and Pettits have lost everything; nearly lost their lives. Others have lost loved ones. Lots of loved ones. Many schools are cancelled "until further notice," while others won't be finishing the school year. Covenant college, just down the road from us has evacuated for the year because they have no water and no electricity.

Today, the skies are perfectly blue and the breeze sweetly calm. And as I reflect, I wonder at the God who commands both the 150-mile an hour gale force winds as well as the gentle whisper of today. As for today, we are are thankful for the gift of calm.

Work in progress

Live your one life well.

Growing, spending our one life well

Lots of growing going on these days. Kids, parents, friends, goldfish. We're all growing up. Some faster than others.

The days are longer, dappled with warmth, light. My heart has been lighter as I'm growing, learning the practice of joyful, grace-filled thankfulness in all things. Eucharisteo, I now understand it is called. As ungratefulness is the root of all sin and bitterness, I am learning the joyful discipline of giving thanks the gifts of life and watching as God turns even the bitter, difficult, painful into beauty. Young years. Time. Soft down pillows. Green dappled goodness.

One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. Read it. Read it. Read it. And give thanks.

1. Plans gone awry. Failure to reserve leads to backyard camping

2. Breathtaking beauty of this fair mountaintop (and three occupants)

3. No TV lends itself to creative hands and minds. Meet "Statue" by Teya

4. Teya, the artist, and her no-TV creation

5. David, the airplane. May the soles of Daddy's feet always be prime territory.

6. Sister, brother. Posing for picture. Almost smiling.

7. Sister

8. Sweet sister

9. Cousins and juicy orange slices

10. A ride behind Daddy. Snacks. Kind strangers who share their bike pump.

Thankful.

Nature's first green is gold.

She's here. Scent of gilded green. Pregnant cherry limbs. Tufts of candy, drippy sweet. Drone of hunter bees, gathering golden nectar.

It is springtime, and God is all about making all things new - always.