So today - the news is
It DIDN'T RAIN
Our little birds seem awfully glad as yesterday was too wet and windy for them to feed. Poor things - they must be starving.
I have a new page to share made yesterday - another picture a day project 366 page. I am finding the pages great fun to make but finding taking the pictures a real chore. I keep forgetting and then not bothering to download them.
Anyway here is week 15 - amazing to think that the year is more than a quarter done, almost a third done. Heck where does that time go.
It is another made with that fabulous kit from Indigo Designs I used yesterday.
Today I am thankful for
- challenges - that's what keeps us all going really
- Nigel at home when I got in
- NO RAIN
My one minute devotional page today is
I’d been cleaning up for about 15 minutes when I saw then-seven-year-old Elizabeth in the kitchen doorway. “I can’t get to sleep,” she said.
I took my daughter back to the kids’ room and tucked her into her top-bunk bed. “Will you snuggle with me a little?” she asked.
“Of course, honey,” I said. I leaned against the bunk and put my arms around her. “Is everything okay?”
“I feel bad about something,” Elizabeth said.
I straightened up and looked at her as I stroked her hair. Elizabeth is a bright, inquisitive, articulate girl where most things are concerned, but her emotions are an exception. Most of the time, if she seems troubled and I ask her how she’s feeling, her answer is “I don’t know” or “I won’t tell you.” But this time was different.
“I don’t want to grow up,” Elizabeth said.
“Why?” I asked.
“I’m afraid I’ll be too big to snuggle.” At seven, Elizabeth no longer fit over a shoulder or in the crook of an arm the way five-year-old John and three-year-old Mary did.
“You’ll never be too big for a hug, honey,” I said. “Mommy and I won’t stop loving you just because you’re getting bigger.”
“But I want to be little, so you can carry me.”
“I know you do. But God made us so that we grow from children into adults, and although that might seem scary right now, it has its rewards—like an Elizabeth to snuggle and to watch grow up.”
“I know that,” Elizabeth said. “But it still makes me sad not to be little.”
My arms ached as I leaned over her bunk. I hugged her for a long while before I went back to cleaning up.