mitten pie + family love
These past weeks have made me hyper-aware for all that I am grateful for. I have had the blessing to spend a lot of time with my family — we’ve spent days at the lake, evenings comparing sticky ice cream smiles, afternoons chasing my niece around the grass, watching her laugh and roll down the gentle hill in my parents’ backyard. We’ve eaten roast lamb and fresh green beans from the garden, picked up berries at the Farmers’ Market, compared pie crust recipes, scarfed down salted caramel cupcakes, and laughed over cold brews down at Hopcat.
We had a visit this weekend from my aunt and uncle and batch of cousins. Coming from a reasonably small family, it was a pleasant shock to the system to be immersed in the giggling and running about of my niece and my cousin’s two little girls. It was wonderful to hang laundry out to dry with my aunt, talk to my cousins about their future plans, hear about their jobs and their lives, and generally just enjoy being together.
I feel like “grateful” loses its meaning at some point, but there it is anyway.
Grateful, grateful, grateful.
For fresh berries, for my favorite wiggly blonde monkey, for Michigan summer sunsets on the lake, for fresh tart cherry pie, and for every single day I get the privilege to live this life.
May I see every moment as sacredly bound in worship and prayer to the God who loves me so.