This past weekend was shortened for me. I worked all day Saturday, which left just Sunday free for rest/activities. And yet, it was one of those magical days that even though every bit was enjoyable, it seemed to stretch on and on.
We had church in the morning and then shortly after, I met a friend for coffee, where we had the hardest and best kind of talks about the good and the hard, the broken and the redeemed. Where we talked about spiritual realities and God at work in our lives and hearts (because He is always, always working).
Later that afternoon, Nicholas and I headed downtown because he had a haircut appointment. While he visited the barber, I read and wrote at the coffee shop a block away. We had an impromptu date with tacos (as one does on date night), a quick trip home to change, and then (at his suggestion), we went to the park to toss a frisbee and go for a walk.
It was the kind of day that was the perfect blend of rest and activity. A full day, yes, but my heart was even fuller and more thankful:
in the M O R N I N G
for feeling wide awake and ready to start the day without snoozing the alarm
for aeropress coffee
for a sermon that was convicting and encouraging
for hugs at church
in the A F T E R N O O N
for roasted & seasoned potatoes at lunchtime
for traffic that gave us a few more minutes to talk
for (ever more) pictures of coffee and knitting
in the E V E N I N G
for chips and queso and for lemon in my water
for a conversation about how sunglasses fit our heads differently
for blue skies and warn air and cool breezes
for sharing a water bottle with him
for hand holding
for freshly-washed chacos, set on the porch to dry
for a husband who is so much fun
for this season of life, even when I struggle with contentment
for days like these, where contentment is my first response
I'm thankful that these days are the days of now.
P.S.—You may have noticed that things look a little different around here! Nicholas has recently been updating and refreshing the blog with several changes. Content will be the same, but navigation should be a bit more straightforward :)
Fall feels like a number of transitions, one right after the other. We are now bridging into late fall, with lots of frost in the mornings, first sightings of bare trees, and darker, cozier evenings at home. Of course, there is talk of Thanksgiving and Christmas on the horizon too, along with early preparations for those. I do tend to be swept by the momentum of this season, if I'm not careful. I'll admit that Christmas music accompanies us throughout the day sometimes, and I've already done most of our shopping, but I do want to be intentional to savor the almost-but-not-yet. To not wish away November and it's baring of trees in favor of the glow of Thanksgiving and Christmastime. There is great beauty and contentment in this month, as well. I don't want to miss it.
We've taken to a regular "cozy hike," as we've termed it. A nearly wooded path, my favorite spot for fall color, a wagon, an eager toddler, a cozy blanket, and snacks. I look for the bright red leaves, since those are a favorite for both of us. And we also look for acorns and pinecones, treasures on the ground.
I'm typically in a rush to wish away the hot days of summer, to exchange them for cozy days, sweater season, cool mornings. I'm an optimist, and that optimism frequently couples itself with being future minded. Constantly looking forward with hope, but also sometimes looking forward with misplaced longing that can inhibit me from being present. But this past weekend, the events of both days were lovely, and being present felt easy and good.