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with Mike & Nan at Aunt Catfish's

This morning I sat in my peaceful new living room, giving thanks to my Father. The radio played popular Christian songs quietly, and my husband had just left for work. I looked at the vacuumed carpet, that had many feet walking on it to help us move just days prior. Light streamed into the kitchen, over my bridal-shower-tablecloth-gift, with names of friends embroidered, and more to come, gifts of grace. I think of the forgiveness given and received before we said goodbye this morning, and the friends we saw last night. I have enough. More than enough. My mind flits back to my very first apartment, and the book given to me by a friend. Subject? Contentment. I've struggled with that, and its evil twin sister, Envy. But these years since 417 1/2 West Poplar have humbled me, caused me to praise and not protest. To embrace grace and give glory. To honor my Lord and not myself. And for all those things, I am thankful. In the eyes of those chasing the 'American dream', I am not wealthy. But in Christ, and in the eyes of the people this blogger speaks of, I am rich beyond my wildest dreams. Hasn't He given me all I need? And more? Sitting here in our office now, with books lining the oak shelves, I realize that these words, these books, they reflect the Word made flesh. And as I look towards the task ahead of me this fall, to disciple and encourage young lives, I know that it is time to put flesh on words. Though imperfect, I am ready. By grace through faith, and not of myself.