evening sunset the juxtaposition of the clouds, line of light and the earth.
counter tops shiny enough to reflect the objects upon it.
shadows across a favorite arm chair.
January 9 a gift in your hand, a gift you walked by, a gift you sat with:
a warming mug of peppermint tea.
trees already showing the buds of spring.
my little Squirt girl. She may be nine already, but she'll always be my baby.
January 10 A gift that's sour, a gift that's sweet, a gift that's just right:
limes in a bowl awaiting a new recipe I want to make.
coconut, banana, maraschino cherry bread.
reading in the sunshine.
January 11 Three yellow things that strike you as fresh mercy:
- The big yellow school bus. I really need the time apart from some of my children these days.
- Breaks of golden (yellow) sunshine amidst dark clouds filled with snow.
- Yellow tulips in the grocery store. It may be the middle of winter, but God promises spring.
January 12 Something above you, something below you, something beside you:
warm golden lights.
my husband sitting beside me working while I read.
beautiful handmade benches lovingly crafted by my dad.
January 13 Three sounds you hear
The whirr of our convection oven as it bakes more loaves of quick bread for our family to enjoy.
The soft hum of the furnace as it warms our home.
The rat tat tat of the Boy's music. It means he's home doing homework.
January 14 Three ways you glimpsed the startling grace of God:
- Through words in a devotion sent to my inbox.
- An accident avoided despite sliding on black ice.
- Encouragement from church family.