It's Sunday. We're on the porch. The air is heavy and sweet. Gold sun presses through limbs of a century old maple. The ice cream maker whirs and spins. The day is calm. Quiet.
Life abounds. Gathered on the porch swing. On wicker chairs. One son holds a younger boy. My dad's brown arms hold another. Conversation is light as the whispering breeze. Here we gather. Under this old roof. Once again.
Miracle blessings are real.
From His mercy we breathe deep.
And we are grateful....so very grateful...
Thank you, Lord, for sustaining grace. For calling your children to pray. Thank you to all who prayed, the sweet, vast number, who held us in your hearts and in your prayers. Thank you for calling on your friends to pray, your families, your churches, your circles of connection and life. Thank you to those who were at the site...for holding us, praying with us, for reaching for our hands, for singing and crying and waiting for word. Thank you to those who came in the night, who cared for our children, who brought food and water and love and support. Thank you to the rescue heroes, who gave all they had, without hesitation, in selfless bravery and love. Their willingness to give, over and over, staying late, going deep, holding drills, bringing oxygen, being the lifeline...it will always steal my breath. Thank you to those at the hospital, those who cared for Logan and prepared for his arrival hours and hours in advance...
Provision after provision. Mercy after mercy.
All gifts from Him.
So today we'll feel the sun on our shoulders. We'll soak in all that is sweet and normal and everyday and good. We'll laugh. We'll listen. We'll celebrate this quiet day. But we'll do it with changed lives, with eyes that see things differently, with hearts that beat by grace,
and with whispers of gratitude on our lips.