where the breathing is easy...

It has been a mess of days and I wonder if I can even think about reclaiming this ordinary train of thought. Weeks of words coming and going, getting lost in my aching head, with not a lick of motivation to trek back and find them.  This morning, my words are bubbling through the fog of it all, but I am unsure if they will tell a story at the end, or just be a splattered mess.

Even this... is ordinary.
This sick that lingers.  My breath gripped with bronchitis.  And a list of medical to-do's that rivals the grocery list I can't seem to put together anyway.  I can't escape this season of sick, year after year, and just do my best to catch it early.   Even then, it is a tough, long road back to easy breathing... and not just in the healing. So much gets pushed to the side, and that stack of what waits, weighs down my heart.  And my guys... oh they put up with a lot!  Too much whining, too much serving, not enough me.  I am anxious to turn that corner to well, where the breathing is easy... and I'm hopeful that in itself might be a good sign.

But even in this... life moves forward and I can see the cycle of a beautiful life play out before me.  Morning goodbyes while the light filters in the window,  steamy coffee,  and a cozy spot to rest.  When the clock teeters past noon, I know it won't be long before Cam walks in the door... and even though he ends up buried in homework across the house, just knowing he's there begins the full of evening.  The bustle of dinner in the kitchen nudges me from my weariness and the golden light streaming in makes me smile.  A full house. It is what I like best.  And while I'm battling my way back to well, it is those little bits of ordinary are light to the dark days...

sunday photos...

It was the kind of week that is not easy. 
It is hard to celebrate sick and lost and blah… but my heart kept seeking, because if I let it stop, I could sink.  And there is really such comfort in ordinary…

the mess of pens I keep in this beautiful bag... along with my bible and a fun notebook

 

 a pattern of light that dances behind me... sometimes the reflection of that light is as beautiful as the light itself. 

 

this little flip in my hair that comes from standing out in the humidity too long... sometimes I think I want to style it that way...

 

the motion of the open road, miles after mile racing by...

 

 and a beautiful afternoon walk at the park down the end of safari road. 

 

Yes, the ordinary does bring comfort and a smile... even in the blah moments.  

*linking up to Ashley's Scavenger Hunt Sundays... I've been missing it!*

open road...

Three hundred miles of ordinary road stretch between us... 

 Most days it seems just right.  But there are other days... when a five hour drive just isn’t practical and you wish for arms like Mrs. Incredible.  Arms that could reach across the miles,  and wrap her up, hold her close.  Those are the days that break my heart, but somewhere within, I know they are also the days she needs.  I want her to fix it herself, but I’d like to be holding her hand, for courage, while she tackles it.  I know she can do it, but oh I’d love for her to look into my eyes and see that I believe she really can.   This growing up is messy… and when she grows, so do I. 

 We did manage to cover the distance this past weekend… and even though she thought she didn’t want us to come, she was really happy to see us.  Some day I’m going to have to really grow up, but in the meantime, I think six weeks is just about as long as I’m willing to go between hugs…

just an hour...

For years, late afternoon has been our time.
Me, home from work, and them, from school... a time for catching up on the day, sharing tea, sitting close, just spending time.  But life is different now with Laura away at school, and Camden sifting the through workload that his junior year has brought.  His homework spills over to the weekend and it all boggles my mind.  Too often I shout across the house I miss you, because truth cannot be held.

Missing Laura is different.
Five hours away is a mix of reaching out and holding back, seeking the best balance and not always succeeding. It is a work in progress, a long distance love, uneasy wonder and ache.

I am seeking a new ordinary, not quite sure where to start.
More than two months into a new school year and I am still marking time, still exploring my options and seeking courage to let go of that one golden hour. The possibilities are endless though...  and maybe, just maybe, a new ordinary could be something to celebrate.

unexpected...

The text buzzed through while I was stacking groceries in the back of the car.  When I saw her name I expected an update on our super-secret-grandma-shower-plan, but instead...

It was just lunch and laughter between two people who have known each other for years, but have never had the chance to dig deeper than the pleasantries.  But sometimes deep can happen over chips and guacamole, and as layers are uncovered by conversation,  you realize there are experiences that tie you together at the heart.  One person's story flows into the revealing of another, and soon your whole messy life is laid out between the place settings.   Friendship might begin with a smile, but it grows in the mess...

It seems more often that not, blessings rain down in the sharing... the opening and offering of our hearts. Sometimes we pull ourselves so together that we forget... the cracks in our soul let the Light shine in.  But they also let the Light shine out... and in that, we just might be the blessing in someone's ordinary day.