This week isn't particularly sparkly. It's ordinary and a little bit, well, melancholy. While I'm not sad, I do feel a sort of thoughtfulness that extends to my emotions. It's okay, and I'm welcoming this different kind of week. In a conversation with a friend, I called it happy apathy. But that's not quite right. I think a better way to say it is I feel content and open and aware of life around me. I want to listen more, but to do that, I must say less. 

This week, real life is:

  • achy legs from a run
  • naps before supper
  • wearing cowls and shawls both inside and out
  • eating leftovers
  • finishing a library book in the early morning silence
  • rediscovering my favorite pair of sweatpants
  • baking cookies at 11pm, as an intentional practice of rest
  • coffee dates with friends
  • hikes by myself
  • waking up on the couch next to Nicholas at 3am (oops) with a sore neck
  • splurging for a chocolate croissant
  • using up all the groceries in the fridge
  • conviction from this John Piper quote:
The mind is the window of the heart. If we let our minds constantly dwell on the dark, the heart will feel dark. But if we open the window of our mind to the light, the heart will feel the light. Above all, this great capacity of our minds to focus and consider is meant for considering Jesus (Hebrews 12:3)
  • feeling rather small in the world
  • realizing that Jesus is so much bigger than I've imagined Him to be (and how much He wishes joy for me)
  • choosing joy, that is, choosing Jesus.