Today

I write daily (nearly) in hopes of preventing writers-block, to enjoy the process of journaling, and because picking out pieces of the day that are worthy to write about or take pictures of helps me see the possible mundane events as jewels to be remembered for a lifetime.

While Brad waited as Alynna pranced around in tutu and leather soled shoes, I took the rest of the children to the library. We were entranced by the pop-up books. We poured over folded and layered papers with fascination. I began taking notes of the authors and I had all intentions of an Amazon shopping spree later in the day. However, after some time I came to grip with reality as I daydreamed about folds and flaps and dioramas being torn to smithereens. Yeah... we'll just enjoy them at the library.

This is the "Prehistoric Sharks" pop-up. I'm just impressed with the fact that anyone ever thought of making a pop-up book about prehistoric sharks in the first place.

I was trying to get Nathan to look at the camera and say, "I need a haircut" but it never worked.

The pop-ups became "so five minutes ago" when the Star Wars easy reader books were found. Like I said, we'll enjoy them at the library.

Of course, I wasn't able to take pictures of the rest of the day, like: Three children going in three different directions as I checked out the box of library books. Our good friend Kyle coming over to babysit the kids while Brad and I met Pastor Henry for lunch and some guidance in a ministry we're stepping into. The hour we enjoyed at home before leaving the house once again, this time for church. The two children who fell asleep in my lap during service. Nathan waking up talking at normal loudness, "Where's the coloring page?"
Nor did I take pictures of the mess of dirty dishes waiting all over the dining room, kitchen, and sink. Or the clothes I have to put away before I can't find my bed anymore and have to sleep in the laundry pile.

However, I also couldn't take pictures of my great satisfaction with my date with Brad (seeing as I could finish a sentence without being interrupted). I also couldn't take pictures of my relief during corporate worship and singing at the top of my lungs, "Oh praise the LORD who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead!" Nor did I take a picture of my sigh when I was reminded that when I walk through a dry season and suffer loneliness that God's love is greater than life. I didn't snap pictures of the "family" found at Kings Harbor Church, or our dining room table covered with groceries. I missed taking a picture of Alynna's little bright pink ear when she lifted her groggy face from my chest.
And how can you take a picture of the thought you have when you're holding your five year daughter in your arms during worship and you think, "I think she's sleeping, because I think that's drool dripped down my chest."