Watching Her Grow...

I love this picture of Hannah....

She paused as we made our way into the school building for her first day of kindergarten. Her smiling face seems to say "I'm in big school now; can you believe it?!" I smiled when I looked closely at the picture and noticed her hand. I can practically see the energy and excitement dancing through her....

And that pink bookbag... Barbie, I'm sure. Matching lunch box held her snack for the day. I remember that white blouse, so crisp and fresh in the sweltering August heat. Her sandals, her toes....

I remember her spunk when she ran up to me after school and proclaimed, "I didn't even drop my tray!" (Apparently, she had been a bit worried about that happening during lunch... apparently she did okay that day!)

And here she is seven years later on the first day of 8th grade. No more pictures in front of the school. The front porch will do just fine she says! Her eager smile is still there.... And she's excited. Still.

She makes friends easily (something I've never been as good at) and is diligent in her work.

But I have to wonder where the years have gone. Afternoons of sunshine seemingly vanished over night.

"You only have me for five more years," she said recently with a sneaky grin on her face.

"No," I reminded her, "I have you for life! And, uh, watch out... I would make a great college roommate!"

And I Had it All Along

As many of you already know, I'm always looking for perfection in life. And I must admit that I often look at others as symbolizing what is perfect. For instance, I have always thought that a friend of mine had the perfect home. It exuded warmth from before you even set foot in the front door. In the evenings, the warm glow of Pottery Barn lamps seeped through the windows. Family and friends always seemed to linger in the kitchen, where the sweet aroma of bread or biscotti filled the air. It just seemed like the perfect example of cozy warmth.


Now mind you, this friend was a stay-at-home mom. With her children in school all day, I could understand how her home could maintain this sense of warmth, while I toiled at work from sun-up to sun-set it seemed. An excuse, perhaps, for my home to be a little... well... messy and not so warm.

So this fall I decided that my home, too, would exude warmth. That my husband and daughter would immediately feel my love when they walked through the front door. I bought new fall flowers to create an artful display of welcome for the front door.




I bought some small pumpkins and gourds to warm up my kitchen.




Then came the revelation. One evening as I finished reading The Shack on my back deck, I paused and looked... really looked into my home. And I saw it. It wasn't the decorative gourds, nor the beautiful fall flowers that gave my home a sense of warmth. It was love. And it was there, right there, in my home. Without fancy props, without expensive trappings, my home did exude warmth. And I smiled.



At times, we may be so busy trying to live up to high standards we set for ourselves and our own image of perfection that we don't even realize that we've exceeded our own expectations. And it really doesn't have to cost a cent or take too much time to accomplish. We possess it all along in the form of hugs, encouragement, and kisses.