It fits in the palm of my hand, small and pleasing, like Julian of Norwich’s hazelnut. The cover is cut and glued from scrap paper – the same paper that lines my kitchen cabinet. The pages, cut from printer paper and the binding, a bit of linen cord....
I have my own picture window now, complete with bird feeder. Grandma fed her chickadees religiously, for years. Filling a rusted coffee can with sunflower seeds, she loaded the feeder outside her big picture window, daily. Seated...
(Photo Source) Today, I’m grateful to be hosting the words of fellow blogger, Elizabeth Marshall. Won’t you give her a warm welcome as she shares her heart? I am measuring beauty and grace in increments of fragmented seconds. Small flakes of wonder,...
Both hymnals are dark burgundy, the edges of the pages yellowed from wear. They sit in my oldest kids’ rooms. One, I could swear, is the exact hymnal I grew up holding heavy in my hands as we called out numbers and pages and lifted our voices on long...
This giant Maple is one of many shady spots at our house. They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze . . . Genesis 3 It’s hot, humid, and I’m sweating just sitting in the evening shade. Crisscrossed in the green...
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