It’s been a minute.
When we blew back in town from our whirlwind European adventure, we hit the ground running. Michael went back to work, of course, the boys and I resumed our homeschooling, and I continued with the online college course that I had started mid-trip (not the recommend strategy, btw.) We were battling some weakened immune systems (probably from jumping time zones and breathing recycled airplane air) and jet lag. There were good things- oh, really great things!- on the horizon but we were also still waking up at 4am ready to start our day. It took a minute to find our sea legs. Land legs? The strong, stable ones.
The daily responsibilities of our life required that we jump back in immediately, with gusto…how else can you keep up with three wild boys? They need three meals a day and about 43 snacks in between and there’s mountains of laundry to conquer and that annoying dog still lives here, right? Not to mention the math lessons and ever-evolving art projects (apparently living on the dining table now) and costumes to create and baby showers to attend. It comes at you fast, the pace of life.
But what about the beauty that our eyes drank in? What about the handful of quiet moments, coffee in hand and fresh croissants on the table, when conversation turned to the future? To dreams? What about the facing of fears and careening around the side of a mountain and lakes made of icy glacier water? Where do you put the pockets of light that bounced off of centuries-old buildings? All rosey gold and faded sage green and earthy chocolate brown and dusty blue- all melted together under the dipping sun? Our hearts were filled to the brim with moments of unmatched wonder and then we were launched back into our lives, barely able to catch a breath. It makes ya want a mini-vacation from the vacation, a time set apart to process and file away the memories and just savor it all.
“We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words — to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.” C.S. Lewis
Thank you, friends and strangers, for reading. This is where I come to do just that…to process what my life doesn’t hardly give time for. I hope this little space provides a moment for you as well. One to rest and think and just…savor. I’ll be here again soon and we can do just that, together.
(And now, tomorrow is Thanksgiving! What?! How did that come so fast??)