this first day

It is fitting, I think, that I begin here on Sunday, the first day of a new week. It is easier, isn’t it, to live fully in the moments of Sundays? Fewer distractions. Stretched-out time to rest and ponder, and my to-do lists are less unruly on Sundays.

The cry of my heart is to live ALL IN and ALL OUT, every moment of every day. To frame each of my days in a way that feels complete and satisfying. To keep both feet (and all my mind and my heart) in the shot, not one in yesterday and one in tomorrow, but all of me all in. I will succeed some days, I hope, and I will undoubtedly fail. But I’ll try again the next day, because there is a clean slate awaiting me when my alarm goes off.

For this first post, though, some introductions and maybe explanations are in order. Each of those pictures to the right? They are days and moments framed that mean something to me. Something important.

First, a moment captured on our last vacation. Me and this husband of mine, married more than 25 years now. This man who loves me like he means it, every.single.day. He needs a post of his own, and I will undoubtedly write one. But for now, know that he is my fiercest protector, my unfailing provider, and the absolute love of my life. We have two grown children, both married, who are as of now MIA from my photo roll. But trust me, they’re beautiful inside and out. Daughter Christa is married to J.R., who is perhaps the best daddy I’ve ever known. They have the Littles on loan from God, three known, one to become known in June. Son Brandon is married to Shiloh, a lovely and spirited young lady who inspires me with her art.

Next, a clock from my living room. What’s important about it is that in this moment, time is stopped. Just for that moment. And I am more and more convinced that it’s the living right now that matters, and that I miss the mark far too often. I miss joy and sometimes pain, but mostly I miss Jesus.

Then, one of my favorite pictures of my middle Little, Mason, laughing out loud. He is the most logical and rational little man I’ve ever met. But when he laughs – oh when he laughs. Pure unbridled joy. Part of my heart belongs only to him.

The next two – soak in the truth, and watch for beauty – well, I’ve been soaking pretty regularly for the past 14 years, but I will never be soaked-enough. Watching? I’m working on that. I miss beauty all too often.

After that is a beautiful picture, taken without her knowledge, of my littlest Little, Callie. She prays with reverence, and worships with abandon, and I want to be more like her.

In June, we will celebrate the arrival of this new life, the tiniest Little, who is fearfully and wonderfully made. I can hardly wait to meet him, this boy child to come.

Make messes. Honestly, I’m in training on this one. Messy mostly stresses me out. But I’ve learned from my Littles that art comes from messes, and I know that I’m a mess, and God uses my mess (and yours too) to make beautiful things.

Decide. I am faced with oh-so-many choices every day, every hour really, and each one depends on the one I made right before it. So I must choose well. Thoughtfully and carefully. But I will only choose well when I am thoughtful and careful enough to listen to that still small Voice leading me on.

Then, a breath-taking photo of Greg and our biggest Little, Lexi, dancing in the kitchen. Was he in the middle of cooking dinner? Yes. Was it inconvenient? Probably. But he took time. To dance with this lovely, sweet, sensitive child. And she still remembers it. Dinner? I have no memory of it at all. But that dance. I’ll never forget it.

Finally, know the Potter. The One True God. The One who takes the broken pieces of me and binds them up with His love and promises. Who saved me. Who makes beauty from dust. Who can handle my mad, my sad, my joy, my excitement, my hopefulness and hopelessness, and who never lets me go. Not for a moment.

These are the things of my life, this holy day.

Welcome.

Angie

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