happysad

our small corner of the world wakes up to rain one morning. the bitter frost has decided to interrupt our one long september. i watch as those around me do life: raising kids, finding someone to spend the rest of their lives with, making vows, experiencing loss, wrestling with calling and career, seeking out their true names. i look around during this time of stillness and waiting and see that there is Someone telling a bigger story. and see that the redemption that is pushing its way through is not something i can presume to rush or understand. i think of the places where ache and falling apart haunt some with sleepless nights and terror filled days. what sense does this make in the story? yearning and hope together that the promises are true.

o come, o come.

we put on a new mix, a birthday mix. the kind of music that hits you so softly right in the gut. so beautiful that all you can do is cry, the feeling of home in songs first heard yet familiar. the wind gusts against the windows and i take up the task of baking again. the house has needed this. i have needed this; the return to works of the hands that allow the heart to meditate on other things. the sounds of things being accomplished in a slow and prayerful way, and the music that fills the warm house are a balm. small works of cultivation all around, the sense of simple joys.

the sound