This month, Scott and I took our first State Park adventure in many weeks. My pregnancy really slowed me down this spring, as well as some early, very hot weather. We were glad to finally get back into adventuring together. We visited a state park we hadn't officially explored and had so much fun.

Longhorn Cavern State Park is a very small state park. It has just over a mile of hiking trails, some pretty cool CCC-built buildings, and (of course) the cave.

The cave tour is a little pricy. We splurged on it (we went on a weekday at it was $25.25 each) and really enjoyed it. This one has a few water-made formations like soda straws, flow formations, stalactites, and stalagmites. However, the parts that impressed me most were the rocks. The primarily limestone walls gave so much to look at. 

"So, why has Sarah been so quiet of late?"

A very good question my friends and one for which there is a very good, beautiful gift-from-God answer. But, because I am a storyteller, I of course am not going to just blurt it out, but tell you the story.

 I walked around the fabric aisle and waited for inspiration to strike. I had decided that what I needed was a project that would take me more than a week to finish. One that would keep me busy for a while. Sewing on a quilt seemed like a good idea.

I sipped my iced tea and was grateful for the gift card I had received as an early birthday gift. It would help me with this expensive undertaking.

I wandered away from the fabric and over the magazines to look for inspiration. And there it was. A quilt on the cover of one of them. It had bold prints bordered with black fabric. While the quilt they showed was rather hideous, I knew exactly what I would do. I flipped open the magazine and they had details of how much fabric you needed for what size bed and they had some alternate versions on the quilt. I smiled as I spotted one that was forest animal themed with a green broader.

I returned to the fabric. I browsed and finally decided I would make a girly quilt. I picked up a rose-patterned quilt and some pinks and greens that went with it. I decided to border these with white. I selected a white with a pattern in a slightly different shade of white. It would be beautiful.

“I love what you picked out!” Ivy enthused as she watched me cut the fabric into squares as she worked on cutting out a craft for the kids she nannied

I smiled. “Thank you!”

Meg looked up from her mending. “It’s going to be a lot of work.”

I didn’t take my eyes off cutting another square of fabric. “I know, that’s why I chose a simple pattern. I’ve made a quilt before. This one just squares and strips.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea.” Ivy fingered the pink fabric with lace printed on it. “Maybe we could make a quilt for my bed too.”

I smiled at her. “I think that would be fun. You want a quilt to, Meg?”

She snorted. “I’ll wait to see if you finish this one and the one for Ivy before I put in an order.”

I exchanged a smile with Ivy. “I think Meg doubts my ability to complete this project.”

Meg’s smile appeared. “I don’t doubt your ability, just the time.”

I sighed as I thought of the hours of work and how the emotional toll of our parents living apart had sapped so much of my energy. But I wanted to do this. I wanted to push past the depressed feeling and to do something that was beautiful and good. I wanted to truly surrender the future to God.

“Can we go pick out fabrics for mine?” Ivy asked. “I think I want one with purple fabrics.”

I loved her enthusiasm and I need to do more to be happy things with my siblings that was happy and fun.

The boys entered the living room. “We were going to watch a movie. Is that okay?” Asa looked at the quilting project, Ivy’s paper pieces, and Megs pile of clothes.

“I wouldn’t mind watching a movie while I work,” Meg said.

Ivy sighed. “I’m supposed to do something every day with the kids between now and the 4^th of July to talk about the importance of American Independence. How much is a three-year-old going to get? But at least these Pilgrims will be fun for them to glue together.”

I nodded. “I’ll watch as long as it’s a happy movie.”

Asa tried to keep a straight face but failed. “Like that funny movie where the dog dies?”

We all laughed.

Sunday afternoon was quiet. Asa and Ben were out with friends, Ivy was taking a nap, and Meg and Mom sat reading. I laid out the pieces of my quilt, proud of all I had accomplished. Over the course of the week, I had nearly finished the top. I just had one more seam to finish. Of course, finishing the top didn’t mean that I was done with the quilt, but it was something.

Not only that, there was something about putting together that felt as if I was stitching part of myself back together. But it wasn’t me doing the stitching. I had never quite understood why fasting was such a big deal, but now I understand how it caused desperation in your soul. I had come to the end of me and realized that God was all I needed.

I ran my hand over a slight imperfection in my quilt. While I wanted to make everything perfect, I knew it wouldn’t be. Not in my quilt and not in my life. Yet, God was making something wonderful with my life and with the lives of others. I had to surrender to Him. A simple answer, perhaps, but one I needed to remember.

I finished the last seam and folded the quilt top up and placed it in the corner. I would work on finishing it next week. I grabbed my current book, a re-reading of Little Men and then I paused.

In the corner where I had shoved it, lay my canvas bag with my mercies notebook and joy list I hadn’t even looked at.

I took a deep breath and withdrew the notebook. I paged through many of the items I had written down. I pulled out a pen and turned to a blank page.

God’s mercy: He is merciful when I want to give up.

God’s mercy: He pursues me when I am running away

God’s mercy: He created fasting to drive us towards Him

God’s mercy: I am finding peace in surrender and hope in letting go

Weekly Mercy: God is stitching my back together. 

May was ending and June was beginning. I was so grateful for all the work at the store. With summer coming, we had a lot going on. Our summer reading events for kids were gearing up. We had two homeschool groups that would be using our shop as a place for their kid’s summer book clubs. We were having twice a week children’s events as well as special displays for teens and adult summer reading.

The work kept me busy and distracted for which I was thankful. When I went home at night, both my sisters wanted to tell me about how hard it was to come home without Dad. Ben wanted to tell me about the latest text from Dad.

I still felt so numb. I finished arranging the teen shelf and knew it was time I clocked out for the day. It had been a short shift today, but they couldn’t afford overtime every week. I waved at Lacie and headed out the door. I knew I should go straight home, but I had no commitments. I made my way to the park.

As I pulled up, I looked out at the creek that went through the middle of the park and I took a deep breath. I should eat my lunch and enjoy a stroll before I returned home.

Take a day to fast and pray.

I pushed away the thought from my list. I wasn’t sure I would do anything from the list or write in my mercies notebook again. I just didn’t think I could do it.

What could it hurt?

I looked toward my lunch bag and pushed open my door. I grabbed my water bottle and purse and headed down toward the path that led along the creek. I probably wouldn’t actually take the day to fast and pray, but I might delay my lunch a little bit and pray. Maybe God would give me some peace about what had been going on.

The sun was setting. I knew I had walked a long way and had been sitting in this spot among the trees for a long time. I had texted my family to tell them I had decided to take some time to pray by myself.

Hunger gnawed at me.

“God,” I whispered. “I don’t understand. Are you going to take everything from me? If my parents’ marriage falls apart, I don’t think I will ever be whole again, not if it happens right now.”

I had said different variations of this several times. It was odd. I hadn’t fasted from food very often in my life on purpose. I always thought it was for other people who were more spiritual to do. Besides, I didn’t do well if I didn’t eat. Yet, as I looked toward the colors in the sky, I realized that was exactly the point. Every time I felt hunger, felt myself in need of food, I turned to God.

I stood and started walking back the way I had come. I needed to try to make it back to the car before it got to dark. I felt weak. I was so hungry. I was desperate.

“Don’t You care that all this is shattering me?” I said in desperation. “All of this is crushing the life out of me!”

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.

I had memorized those verses so long ago. And they return to me. Tears sprang to my eyes. “How long will I be hard-pressed, Father? If you take my family…”

I stopped and looked toward the sunset. Would I trust God even if it meant He took what I longed for? Yes, it would shatter my heart, but could I trust Him with my pieces? I wanted to give a quick yes to that question, but I couldn’t I kept walking.

I’m so hungry

What if God doesn’t give me the outcome I want?

Why can’t I just trust Him? Because I know trusting Him means surrendering what I want and leaving it in God’s care.

My thoughts raced. I picked up my pace, wishing I could outrun the thoughts.

I tripped and I caught myself against a tree. I looked upward toward the sky and then dropped my gaze. I came face to face with the ugly truth. I wanted to trust God, but I didn’t think He wanted my good – or my parent's good - as much as I wanted it. I walked and I thought through times in my life when I had trusted things to God. How many times I had ended up with better, more wonderful plans. There were some times I had trusted God with something and realized that he had never given it back.

Can you trust Me now?

I again looked to the sky, the sun just a sliver on the horizon.

My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and I had never felt so much like I was in a battle. Fear, truth, and hope warred in my soul. I took another breath and looked toward the sky. What choice did I have? I couldn’t make my parents have a happy marriage. I couldn’t make Jessie come back. I couldn’t make someone love me. I couldn’t make my sibling happy. I couldn’t even gain hope and joy on my own, not the real, deep kind.

I paused. Looking around me to make sure I was alone, I dropped to my knees.

“Father, I’m acknowledging the truth that You are in control no matter what. But would you please help me?” Teare squeezed out of my closed eyes. “And if You choose to take anything like my parents…” I took a breath and slowly formed the words. “I will trust You. If You shatter me, I am shattered. And You are the only one who could even begin to put together the pieces.”

I stood. I was exhausted, but somehow, I felt a battle had been won. I took a deep breath and moved rapidly down the path. This day would be going in my mercy notebook.

A much-needed surrendering of my future to God

I had never thought I would find church so hard as I had the day before. Somehow, I felt like our family had failed. Weren’t Christian couples supposed to stay together? What would people think of me now that my family wasn’t whole?

“God can still heal this. Remember this isn’t the end.”

I sighed and tried to hold onto Joan’s words but I just couldn’t. Would guys think I couldn’t keep my marriage vows if my parents couldn’t?

Get a grip, Pam. Your parents aren’t divorced yet! Just do your job and try to hold onto hope.

I blinked as I straightened the children’s area as one homeschool group left, knowing we had another coming in an hour. I tried to focus on the work and not think, but my mind wouldn’t be silenced.

What would Evan think?

What does it matter? We were only ever friends and not amazing ones at that. Stop being obsessed with him.

I’m not obsessed, but do I really think that someone like him from an amazing family would ever look at me as a potential spouse?

If they didn’t, they would be counting the parents’ sins against the children. Not very Christlike.

But can’t we all admit that some things are passed down? Maybe you should stop thinking about marriage at all.

I took a long breath. The arguments going through my head repeated and continued to the point I thought I would go crazy. Also, why did I have to argue like this with myself? Some counselor or psychiatrist would probably think I was crazy.

“Miss Pam!”

I turned and Molly stood with a book in her hand. I smiled. “Hello there, Molly.”

“Have you read this book?” She held out a book for me to inspect.

I smiled at the cutely illustrated cover. “I have, but it’s been years.”

She nodded. “My friend at church gave it to me when she finished reading it. She has red hair just like Anne of Green Gables.”

I smiled at her. I thought about my Green Gables phase, which had been less about the books and more about the Megan Follows movies. I had once wanted to dress like they did in the movies and visit Prince Edward Island.

“Mamma…I mean, Aunt Lacie says I can read it all by myself.”

I gave her a hug. “That’s wonderful.”

Molly sighed. “I keep calling Aunt Lacie Mama by mistake.”

I knelt down so I could be at eye level with the child. “I don’t think she minds.”

Molly hugged the book to her chest. “But she is my Aunt Lacie, not my mama. Anna calls her mama though.”

I silently prayed for wisdom and patience I didn’t have at the moment. “Is that hard for you?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to forget Papa and Mama. Anne didn’t pretend Marilla and Matthew were her parents.”

I again prayed for wisdom and gentle words I didn’t have in me. “I don’t think your sister is pretending. Yes, Jared and Lacie are your uncle and aunt, not your parents. But they are your guardians which is like they are your parents, even if they didn’t give birth to you. Anna is calling them what they mean to her.”

Molly looked down at her book. “But I still want them to just by my uncle and aunt.”

I patted her shoulder “That’s okay too. Did you know we have the whole Anne of Green Gables series here?”

“Really? Where?”

I breathed out a sigh of relief. I didn’t think I could deal much with the heavy emotions of others and took her to see the books.

I returned to the front counter and checked out an elderly woman purchasing books for her granddaughters. Next, I had a tea order to make for a young mom and her two kids. I was grateful it was a busier than normal Monday.

As soon as the next book club’s drink orders were filled and I made sure they had what they needed, I moved toward a box behind the counter of items that needed discount stickers put on them. I would need to update our clearance rack.

I let out another long sigh as I pushed my canvas bag off the box. It held my mercies notebook and my list of things to do. I should pick something to do this week. I should think of something that I could put in my mercies notebook.

I put one earbud in and put on some music to try to settle my nerves. I should keep listening to my audiobook or think of things to put into my mercies notebook, instead, I let the instrumental soundtrack play as I applied sale stickers to the box of items.

 

I paused the Anne of Green Gables movie. I should get to bed. I looked toward the canvas bag. I needed to put something down in my notebook and pick something on the list to do.

I swallowed and turned out the lights. Perhaps I should, but I just couldn’t this week. I would try again the next week, but I just didn’t feel like trying to see God’s mercy in the midst of this pain nor did I think doing something fun would help me be more hopeful.

A tear slipped down my cheek and I turned in my bed. “I’m sorry, Father.” I prayed. “It just hurts so bad.”

Somehow, I felt like He understood.

Hey friends! Sorry for the delay. I got sick and didn't even think about my blog. So today, you get two episodes and hopefully, I'll get into a better blogging rhythm.

Things at the store were slow. I sipped my vanilla caramel tea and looked around for something to fill my time as I waited for four PM. At that time I would set up for a book club we were hosting. For once, I had the whole shop in order. What was I to do?

I looked toward the window at the rain pattering against the sidewalk. It was probably why we didn’t have any customers, but I thought it was a perfect day to be curled up in a bookshop with a tea counter.

I took my cup of tea and moved around the shelves. I made some minor adjustments and entered the kid’s area. Since we hadn’t had many kids this rainy day, and those few had been well-behaved, there hadn’t meant much that needed straightening.

I looked at the shelves that housed some of my childhood favorites as well as newer children’s books. I smiled as I fingered a beautiful edition of the Chronicles of Narnia. Perhaps I should reread it. I remembered The Horse and His Boy had been my favorite.

My eyes drifted to some of the Narnia-inspired merchandise we kept around and sold regularly. I pulled out the coloring book. While I had sold many of these, I hadn’t taken the time to look at them. After all, it had been years since I had read any of the Narnia books. The coloring book contained some of the original art from the books and coloring pages inspired by that art. What a cozy idea to curl up with one of the Narnia books and a coloring book.

I looked toward the door. There still wasn’t a customer. I slid the coloring book from the shelf and returned to the front desk. I opened my library app and discovered what I had hoped: an audiobook of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. After I paid for the coloring book, I dug out the colored pencils behind the counter that were kept there for Molly and Anna.

I soon found myself swept back to my childhood. I sipped my tea and colored as I watched the rain outside with a peaceful feeling. I had planned to get a coloring book for one of my weekly fun things, this was the perfect day for it. 

“How long did you color for?” Ivy asked, sitting on the floor of my room as she painted her nails.

I shrugged. “For over an hour. I set up for the book club and had ten minutes after that before we got a customer. I feel sorry for Jared and Lacie for having to pay me for the time but it was nice and relaxing.

Ivy sighed. “That must have been nice. It seems like the kids I nanny just get worse on cloudy days. I tried to read them a book and the two boys kept fighting.”

Meg snorted. “Well, don’t forget, Pam also has to deal with Mrs. Kingston and that author guy on a regular basis. I think every job has its ups and downs.”

I shared a smile with Meg even as Ivy rolled her eyes.”

“Maybe we could watch the Narnia movie together tonight.” Ivy offered.

“ooo! Which one?”

We looked up to see the boys standing in the doorway, both in their uniforms from work. Ben was unbuttoning the top button of his nice shirt, as usually glad to be done with the formal wear of his office for the day. Asa stood in his fast-food uniform. He had just been promoted and talked about one day owning his own location. We would see where he went.

“I don’t think we want to start this war,” Meg said.

“Oh, let’s start it.” Asa plopped down next to Ivy. “Shall I get the good version?”

I shook my head, knowing what would come next.

Ben cleared his throat. “If by good you mean the one that followed the book better, you can find the BBC sitting in my room.”

“The animals are creepy!” Ivy and Asa said together and then laughed.

We were all laughing. When we were young, we often watched the 1980s BBC Narnia together. Of course, some of us, me being one of them, adored it for the nostalgia of our childhood. Ben loved it because it was closer to the book. Ivy didn’t mind what we watched if we were watching together. Meg and Asa thought the more modern adaptation by Disney was superior.

“Well, if you want creepy puppets…” Asa started.

“Well, if you want CGI everything…” Ben countered.

“If you want an Aslan with a good voice, verses one that sounds asleep…” Meg offered.

I laughed. What had started as a serious debate in our teens was now a fun-filled argument of our adulthood.

“Pam?” Ben looked at me.

I smiled. “I’ll make popcorn while y’all argue it out.” While I was feeling in a nostalgic mood as the rain continued to fall outside, I would be happy with whichever movie we picked. As I made popcorn, the BBC version won out. Asa added pizza pockets to the offerings and Meg made a veggie tray. We piled on the couch and the movie began.

I gave a happy sigh and then looked upward. This had been a wonderful and peaceful day. I silently thanked God for it right before entering into a discussion about the fashion of the two Narnia versions.

Sitting on my bed as the rain continued to pour outside. I pulled out my mercies notebook.

Rainy Days

The Chronicles of Narnia

Sibling time

Peaceful day

Hope

Again, as I wrote that last work, the tears slipped down my cheek. It was true, I was feeling hope again. It had been so long since I had a day that truly felt peaceful, and this one had.

God was bringing healing and hope into my life.

Episode #21

I looked at the back of my closet. I had finished listening to The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe and was planning on starting on The Horse and His Boy. In re-listening to the first book, an idea from my childhood had resurrected. I had thought it would be fun to paint a lamppost at the back of the closet.

I smiled to myself as I envisioned some rainy day pushing aside my clothes and seeing a little bit of Narnia.

As the painting day with my siblings had shown me, I was no artist. I decided I would try though. I had a dozen things I should do, but I wanted to escape reality for a while. Mom and Dad had left for counseling and they hadn’t looked happy. Why weren’t things getting better? Was counseling making it worse?

I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about anything. I dug out my tubes of paint, grateful I had a lot of black, and pulled my clothes out of the closet.

Using a pencil, I sketched an outline as I listened to the opening chapter of The Horse and His Boy. How I remembered loving this story. I finally was satisfied with my outline and I pulled out the paints. I started filling in the black parts, as the horse taught Shasta to ride.

“Pam?”

I looked up. Mom stood in the doorway, her eyes red. I stood and swallowed. “Yes?”

“Could you come to the living room?”

“Pam?” I blinked and then shook myself. The customer was staring at me. I realized I had already asked her to repeat her order twice and it was something very simple yet it hadn’t sunk into my brain.

Lacie gently pushed me out of the way and completed to order. I stood there blinking trying to get myself to care or even respond to what was going on, but I couldn’t seem to shake myself out of the stupor I was in. I felt numb all over.

“Pam?”

I stared at Lacie and tried to think, tried to feel, try to do anything other than just stare. How had I made it safely to work? Oh, right, I had put on some loud music and refused to think about what my parents had said. And then I entered the store and I saw a book my dad loved on an endcap and my brain had frozen and I couldn’t seem to get it unstuck.

“Pam, I’ve got to admit, you’re scaring me. I’m wondering if I should call 911.”

I swallowed and shook my head. “I’m sorry it’s just that…” I took a deep breath and the tears started and the pain in my heart was so sharp. I wanted the numbness back.

“Pam?”

I sank to the floor, and muffled my sobs with my hands, not wanting to scare the customers. I forced myself to stand and I rushed to the back room and broke out with guttural sobbing, still muffling it with my hands.

“Pam?”

I gulped in breaths as Lacie came towards me and finally gained enough control. To speak. “My…Dad… moving out.”

Lacie sank beside me. “Your parents are divorcing?”

I shook my head, even as the sobs shook me even harder.

Lacie stroked my hair for a moment. “You just stay back here as long as you need and then you can come talk to me.”

I sobbed longer and harder than I had in years. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t stop for a long time. Finally, the sobs subsided and I pulled myself together. I used the tiny employee bathroom to splash water on my face. I smoothed my hair and stepped out into the bookshop. A few people were browsing the book store and I kept my head down as I made my way to Lacie at the tea counter. I slid onto one of the customer stools.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a small voice. “You don’t have to pay me for this morning.”

Lacie waved her hand. “What’s going on?” She set a mug of lavender spearmint tea in front of me.

“My parents have been in counseling, but they…” I took a shuddering breath. “It hasn’t been going well. It was decided my parents needed some time apart to heal. It just…” I wiped at my nose and then rolled my eyes at my gesture. Couldn’t I at least avoid being gross?

“That is hard.” Lacie offered.

“If my parents can’t stay married, who can?” I blurted.  It took a sip of the tea and regretted it. It hurt going down. I couldn’t eat or drink right now. “And my siblings and I stayed up late and I tried to be strong for them and…”

Lacie’s hand on my arm stopped me. “They aren’t getting a divorce and God still has a plan here.”

I slapped a hand on the counter. “I’ve been trusting Him and I know where that leads. I lost my best friend. I saw the guy I liked leave my life. What will I do if He takes my parents?” I was crying again. “I can’t take it.”

Lacie came around and pulled me into a hug. “That’s more than any person can endure. Paul himself talked about going through things beyond his ability to endure. But he knew God would deliver him. His hope and focus weren’t on an outcome - it was on the Author of his story. God is writing your story, Pam, not the people who hurt you.”

I stared at her and slowly found the words penetrating my heart.

When I got home from work, I put the clothes back into the closet and left the lamppost unfished. I stared at the mercies notebook and didn’t think I could ever look at it again.

I finished getting ready for bed and pulled the notebook into my lap. I opened it and went through all the things I had written down.

I decided I should add the words I wanted my heart to know, even if I didn’t believe them fully.

Today’s mercy: God is writing my story, not the people, or circumstances, that are hurting me.

I made sure my water bottle was filled and slung my backpack with emergency supplies on my back.

“Do you really need all of that?” Asa pointed to my backpack.

I shrugged. “I was reading something online, and it seemed wise to be prepared since we’re going to hike a little way away from any help.”

Asa shrugged and lifted his water bottle in the air. “This is all I need.”

I looked down at the map for Pedernales Falls State Park. I was a little be worried about doing this. I mean I wasn’t exactly the thin athletic type and in Texas, temperatures were nice, but on the rise.

“Thanks for along,” Meg said, shouldering her own backpack.

Ivy snapped a picture of the dramatic landscape. “What trail are we taking?”

I looked back down at the map. “Well, I was reading this blog that had some hiking trail recommendations…”

“You still read blogs?” Ivy asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, anyway, here are my idea. We of course need to go see the falls at some point, but I thought we would first either go to Wolf Mountain or Cypress Mill Loop Wolf Mountain Trail is longer but has apparently some great views. The loop we would have to cross the creek and it’s a little more remote. It does also have some good views.”

Ben joined me at the map and looked it over. “Let’s go to Wolf Mountain.”

I nodded, and we quickly loaded up and drove to the trail head. When I put this item on the list, I had fantasized about meadows full of butterflies as I walked by myself. But with our parents on a weekend trip to a marriage seminar their counselor had recommended, I had decided a hike after church with my siblings would be just the thing.

We started down the trail, my sister and I in a line and our brothers a few paces ahead.

“What did you think of the sermon?” Meg asked.

I shrugged. “It was okay.”

Ivy huffed. “Can we all be honest and say this is a dumb series?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.  “Okay Ivy, you’re right, we should be honest. I don’t really like it when our church does a topical study.”

“Thank you,” Ivy said. “I thought everyone was legally obligated to pretend we were having a good time. Like the Revelation study.”

“I liked the study on Revelation,” Meg offered.

“How could you?”

Meg shrugged. “I just did.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “I think I would rather have a topical study.”

Again, I laughed. “Oh, you two. The good news is that next month, we will be starting our study of 1 Peter. That will be good.”

“I can hardly wait,” Meg said, skipping a couple of steps.

I took a deep breath of the air, spicy with the scent of cedar as my feet tread the rocky path. I was glad for my baseball hat. There was little shade on this trail. I was also glad for the delightful spring breeze.

“Oh! I have some good news!” Meg said.

I smiled at her excitement. “What?”

“Well, Saturday evening, when I was helping to close, my manager said they are looking to hire a new assistant manager next month. Helen is leaving, and they want me to apply.”

I smiled.

Ivy hugged her. “That’s awesome!”

I looked toward the sky and pondered life as I caught snatches of my sisters talking about work and my brothers talking about getting tickets to a basketball game and their own jobs. I wanted to rejoin the conversation, but I also wanted to enjoy this moment and the feel of the warm sun, the cool breeze, and the sound of my siblings’ happy chatter around me.

 

The views from Wolf Mountain probably wouldn’t make into a calendar of spectacular views, but it was still beautiful. By the time we got back to our car, all of us were tired. We drove down to the falls area, planning what we would make for dinner when we got home.

I stood and enjoyed the beauty of the falls, rushing with the recent rain we had. I snapped some photos on my phone.

“You know what I need?”

Meg turned toward me. “What?”

I smiled. “One of those digital photo frames so I can have photos of us going all the time. I don’t think I’m going to be able to pick from all these photos which ones I want to print off.”

“A digital photo frame is a good solution,” Meg agreed.

“Selfie!” Asa shouted, and we all laughed as we gathered around.

We all crowded to be seen in the camera and laughed as he snapped a couple of shots. I wished I could just hold onto the moment like I could a photo and not let go.

 

I pulled out my mercies notebook and thought over the day. How did I put into words all that I was thinking and feeling? I dropped a few notes into my gratitude jar, which was the first I had done since I made it. So much for my intention to use it daily.

I didn’t know what to write in my mercies notebook. There seemed to be too much in my heart to fit into words. I smiled. It took me a couple of days, but I got a print of the selfie and one of the landscapes we could see on Wolf Mountain. I let those pictures represent the mercies of God for that moment and that week better than any words could have.