Sunday, October 12, 2014


"I think I might know why Great-Grammie is living so long," Jack says. He trifles through the kitchen jammie-clad and toothbrush in hand.

"Why is that?" I say.

"'Cause, she says, God can take me at ANY time." He stops at the microwave to brush. But toothbrush forgotten, he pauses. "I was listening in there," he points down the hall, the book of Luke a cacophony around jammies and bedtime clatter, "and it said whoever desires to keep his life will LOSE it. And whoever loses his life will KEEP it."

"Oh," I say, dishrag wadded with table scraps and now forgotten in my hand. "That's very true, Jack, very true."

He nods and shuffles the toothbrush over teeth that look too big for his mouth, timer counting down from two minutes. But I just stand and watch. His words, plucked out of evening routine, they sift through my mind.

Whoever loses his life will keep it. So it is. We give.

I marvel that he pulled the thread end of that knowledge almost out of thin air.


5462. Pie night. Pizza pie, peach pie, salad in between, family all around.

5463. Kleenex, the soft kind. And Carmex. Another cold takes a hit.

5464. I start another quilt, one in all circles, appliqué.

5465. Good thread, the kind that slides through the machine like butter, the kind that doesn't snag or knot.

5466. "Momma, you feel better?" Joe says. "No," I say. "You should go back to bed," he says.

5467. Craig and the kids clean the house while I sleep until 11 and then nap all afternoon.

5468. Lemon soap and coconut cream, Trader Joe's staples.

5469. Lydia turns one. Cerissa throws a party around the Seahawk's game. The children drink gallons of orange pop.

5470. Lucy dresses Joe for church.

5471. Great-Grammie leaves the hospital.

5472. Jane starts planning Christmas presents.

5473. I make our first beef stew in years. Everyone loves it.

5474. I read more of Tim Keller's The Meaning Of Marriage and note again the special agreement that marriage is: a covenant. I turn this over in my mind all week.

5475. We prepare for another week of learning together, all successes and failures bundled into a giant bale of love. Devotion.


  1. Pulling the connections between faith and the people we know almost out of thin air. It sometimes feels that my whole life is comprised of those near misses that I so easily could have missed. I'm glad you write them down. Forgetting them is just as detrimental.

  2. Haven't been here in awhile. Love your writing and your family and everything y'all stand for. You truly make the hard stuff look easy. You always inspire me. Cute pic of you, by the way.