259/365

A post-storm sunrise that casts a glow over all of nearby creation makes humidity much much more tolerable.

258/365

I'm much much better at getting packages together, writing notes, stacking mail to be sent, than actually getting it to the post office and into the mail.

Watch out for your bolt, a bunch of clean socks, and some snacks, my son.
:-)

257/365

"Holy joy lies in the habit of murmuring thanks to God for the smallest of graces."

Ann Voskamp

not the least of which is a scattering of sunshine yellow petals on the carpet of grass in the corner of my front yard after the rains and winds of the day before.

256/365

By afternoon the skies turned dark and thunder rumbled in warning and lightning flashed as alerts. 

It rained

and rained

and rained.

Then I had no regrets about the decision to cancel.

No not one.

20 minute walk and starting again

Yes, another extended absence from the blog.
An explanation-

We journeyed north up to Nebraska in August. Going to Nebraska is about as close to going home as it comes for this nomad sojourning family. The very first evening we met friends for dinner and went to an outdoor concert that started as the sun went down. We sat on soft green grass that tickled our legs. We wore long sleeves because there was a chill in the air, for us who are accustomed to the hot and humid south Texas climes, anyway. All the chatter around us was English. Even after years away, we recognized many familiar faces.  Reverse culture shock, perhaps.

We were immensely blessed by our time away. We shared stories and updates from the ministry here at the US/Mexico border with churches and mission committees, new and old. We ate and laughed and prayed with dear friends. We were treated to sweet hospitality and many conversations lingered long at dining room tables.

I didn't take a lot of photos, but I really tried to take some people pictures, to capture the faces that are special to me. I took pictures of my family in front of corn stalks taller than they are. I captured the faces of my favorite kitchen friends. I shot my daughter playing with a most precious little one fighting leukemia.

I spent a morning at the Farmers Market, wandering the rows of colorful summer fruits and vegetables and bright cut flowers, baked goods and brewed coffee, snapping pictures here and there with one of the best companions I could ever choose. I climbed a grain elevator a couple of stories tall and looked over the cornfields of western Iowa and shot photos of acres and acres of green, as far as the camera eye could see. I captured images of the sun rising in Oklahoma and of the rolling hills of Kansas and of my favorite sights in Nebraska.

While we were up north, I also got a new computer.
Oh, that's a steep learning curve. It's shiny and light and sleek and fast. I possess none of those qualities. I switched from PC with Windows to a Mac, which in my world is something akin to learning a new language. Again. Slow. And prone to error. Incredibly prone to error.

The most sad error? In that transition of learning and categorizing the new, I lost all those Nebraska photos. We ran a recovery program, but to find them would cost $80 and lots of time and really? For just a couple weeks of photos? It's not THAT important.

I only mourned for a few days; I didn't even shed a tear. But, it sort of deflated me, that loss. I had not picked up my camera, besides a few iPhone shots here and there, since the trip.

Until Friday. This week I started The Artist's Way, "a 12 week journey to recovering your creativity." One of the assignments was to take a 20 minute walk. So on Friday afternoon, I changed my clothes, grabbed a few girls, and threw my camera bag over my shoulder. On a very hot and humid afternoon, with thunder rumbling in the distance, I started again.

And again, it is well with my soul.