choosing

These grey days take their toll.

I find myself sleeping late, dragging my feet, 

closing windows and doors and burying myself deep.

If only humans could hibernate!

I would so love to crawl into a warm dark cave

and cozy up all winter-long.

But alas, there is too much to do, too much to not neglect.

Obligations, opportunities and over-commitments.

Too much to miss.

So I choose to wake up each morning.

Make the bed and open the curtains wide,

letting the white light disperse the inner rooms of the soul.

Light brings warmth no matter the external temperature.

I soak it in.

Choose to look for the beauty around me.
Or create it if it's not easily found.

Choose to bless.

Choose to love.

And receive it.

This is sometimes the hardest.

Even at the end of an exhausting work day,

drained and spent,

Curtis reminds me there is still 

so much beauty in life,

 in me.

Beauty not meant to hide under the covers.

Or wallow in self-preservation-mode.

Beauty to be shared and savored.

Like good wine and sweet roses.

 Even on these grey days,

there is beauty and choosing and giving and receiving.

There is loving and longing and looking.

And there is finding.

Mostly when the choosing is made 

before the looking begins.

Choosing to be found.

winter warmth

Women gathered together this weekend. 

We dined and celebrated and shopped and 

shared hearts like only women do: 

with unashamed indulgence and vulnerability.

 And this little one stole our hearts with his quiet coos and 

feather-fingers gracing his wrinkly face. 

The most wonderful things start so very small. 

And grow so quickly into a knowing wonder, full of 

uniqueness and giggles and personality.

Amazing to me how little ones hold so much of our hearts!

The last few weeks of cold nights while Curtis labored over

books and research articles, I found cozy spots to twist yarn

into something warm. I've learned to embrace winter 

for the ways it warms me in spite of the chill it brings.

No other season can do it quite so well.

Only in winter do I light candles, drink too much coffee and tea, 

wear double socks and leggings and slouchy hats. 

Only in winter do I cut out red hearts and use pink sprinkles on 

Curtis' favorite treats.

Only winter gives the promise of spring and every cold day that the 

sun still shines makes the heart glow with hope and expectancy.

Today I am warmed through with thankfulness:

for healthy babies, beautiful mamas, sister-hearts, 

brothers' joy, father's affirmation, mother's generosity, 

husband's passion and warmth for me.

For he warms me most of all.