The light speckles the ground, falling through the green leaves and triumphant tree branches, leaving beautiful 'sun puddles', as the toddler calls them, scattered throughout the front yard.
A surprise autumn day has shown up in the middle of summer, and my hair blows gently in the cool, sweet breeze. It's refreshing, and needed.
I am thankful. My pen scratches the paper as I acknowledge my blessings. I hear the etching sound created as my thoughts tumble from my fingertips. It is beautiful, the sound of thankfulness. And it's eye opening.
We are outside this morning and my Ellery is singing along with the birds. She's longing to climb a latter and rescue one of them from his perch on the powerline above us. She's wearing rainbow pants that she picked out herself. They're on inside out and backwards, but she did it. And she's proud.
"You're impressed, mom!" She tells me.
She has heart. And spunk. And independence.
I am thankful.
I watch it all from the rocking chair on our front porch. From the corner of my eye I see the porch swing swaying back and forth as the wind chime, played by the wind, creates a melody for it to dance to.
The swing is light blue, and it's my favorite thing about our porch. It is not exceedingly comfortable, and I do not use it all of them time - but it is special.
It has a cut out of a tulip resting in the center of its back. It was created and uniquely designed for me, with love, by the one man who holds my forever in his heart.
For this, I am thankful, always. Even when I fail to acknowledge it.
I am thankful for this love. This forever. This one man and his heart.
I have reminders all over my house of the love that radiates from the center of it all. Reminders of God's love for me.
This love shines through the light in the eyes of my children.
In the way my husband adores me.
And the way nature sings us a beautiful song, with sun puddles and sweet chirping.
But this love, the irreplaceable, glorious, undeserving love shines the brightest when I take the time to acknowledge it. To acknowledge the big, but maybe more importantly, acknowledge the easily overlooked, the everyday and routine.
