a time to laugh…
and most of the reasons can be found here: Threadbared
. I think, perhaps, I may be sarcastically related to these gals. And, if I
am, then so are you, Erica.
a time of war…every day since I got married, I have been fighting a silent battle. Multiple times every day, I wash my hands using the little bottle of fun soap behind the fixtures. Every evening and multiple times on weekends, the Boy wipes down the counters and puts the little bottle of soap in a cupboard or under the sink. He cannot stand for things to be left out on the counter. EVEN THE LITTLE BOTTLE OF SOAP. So, every morning and multiple times on weekends, I search for the fun little bottle of soap. When I find it, I put it back in its rightful place behind the faucet.
I will not fight my battle this week…the Boy is in Colorado Springs at a conference. We are alone. I may hide the little bottle of soap once or twice just because I miss him. But not yet.
a time to be born…
there’s a new kid
in town! Rylie and I will be interviewing him later this week for potential prom dates. Welcome to the world, Fletcher. Your mom is a champion.
a time to break down…
Sunday (the singing and the praying and the crying)
went…well. I hesitate to use that word, because I know things are still very much difficult for our friends. But Sunday itself went well. Rob’s message (did you know our Sundays are available to download for free on the following Tuesday?)
was incredible. The music- after a simply disastrous Thursday rehearsal
– was fabulous. And the team gathering upstairs was sweet and sad and strong all at the same time. So, thank you to those who joined in from afar. Nothing is louder to God’s ears than a poor man’s sorrow (that’s Patty
). And we are all poor.
You must always know how long to stay and when to go (also Patty).
It’s now time to bake some bread.
That’s not in the song
, but it should be.
Happy Monday to you!
Oh, how we love you here at Texas North.