Time. Time is such an elusive inconstant thing (and illusive, if you side with Einstein). They say, “the days are long but the years short”. They say, “How did it get late so soon?” (okay, that’s actually Dr. Seuss, but he’s an authority in my book). The point is, it would seem that time is vitally important and somehow, at the same time, frivolously unimportant. Days into nights and seasons into years – all things come and go as the ocean waves.
Seasons. I have found that the four seasons dance to differing rhythms depending on where you are. You see, it’s mid-April and so I packed up our winter clothing last week. Right now, it is snowing outside….silly me. But in our recent home of Dallas, we would be in tank tops and shorts right now. I find that here, in the mountains, Winter is greedy and driven to beat Spring into small bits. In Dallas, Summer was always trying to come a little earlier and stay a little later. So, it turns out, seasons are not constant either.
Children. I think children may be the most poignant and steady markers of time. When I look at pictures of a year ago, I am struck by how much change has occurred in the lives of these small humans. They have grown in every possible way, as though on an inevitable trajectory towards big-ness. I look at them and I feel grateful for where we’ve been, content in where we are (regardless of the growing pains), and hopeful for where we are going. As I sit here on this Good Friday, that’s also how I reflect on this Lenten season. In the pain and struggle of humanity, love will conquer, as it always has.
I don’t often post a lot of photos, but in this full full year of moving from Texas to California, welcoming new people into our hearts and family, buying a home, raising and slaughtering our first hog, beginning a dairy goat adventure, failing and forgiving one another, and starting afresh in this beautiful place………you get pictures. Enjoy!
Slightly unprepared for the cooling weather….
Jason hippie-ing it up at the Farmer’s Market
Sibling love, from hugs to being tied down in a rocking chair….
Our first attempt at gingerbread houses was…..well, it was.
Oh, those children of yours and their inevitable trajectory towards big-ness! I love the pictures. And I love that love that conquers.
Beautiful pictures. Beautiful children. Beautiful words.