Monday, January 23, 2012
Multitudes on Monday...#251-270
Note: I've been absent from my blog for a couple of weeks due to a health scare and then an unexpected death in the family. Though I don't wish to discuss either event in any detail here on my blog, their echoes will certainly appear in my list, which I've doubled in order to catch up...
251. A mom who (still) takes midnight phone calls.
252. A mom and a sister who dropped everything to come to the rescue. And a dad and a brother-in-law who spared them for me.
253. Getting scared straight about good health and proper lifestyle choices.
254. A mom and a sister who turned around and *drove back* to come to the rescue. Again.
255. My husband's strength and wherewithal amidst a jumble of absolutely bewildering circumstances.
256. Road trips with my husband, and 3:30 a.m. heart-to-heart talks while driving under a starlit Mississippi sky.
257. Aunt and Uncle in-laws who put you up like a visiting rock star.
258. Sisters-in-law who are lovely and beyond precious. And who give me the sincerest and sweetest hugs and kisses.
259. Ministers who somehow know just what to say and just how to comfort. The obedience of God's servants is so obvious in times of grief and mourning because they become stunningly perfect messengers of His mercy.
260. How a kitchen table can become ground zero. How all who gather around it find strength and sustenance there, and not from any food!
261. How pictures become not just links to the past, but lifelines of love and family togetherness.
262. How a childhood home can inspire special insights..."my mother-in-law used to cook Marty's dinner here" and "my beloved used to fall asleep here."
263. Discovering a mom-and-pop coffee shop in my husband's hometown and tasting an Americano simply unequaled in my experience (and that's saying something).
264. Being asked about my children by people who genuinely wish to know (and are not just making polite conversation).
265. The way my very-busy husband sought me out, grabbed my hand, and led me through a crowd of mourners to keep me at his side. The way his strong hand felt in mine as we stood in silent prayer.
266. The way a sandwich and Southern sweet tea tasted when all was said and done.
267. A sister who dropped her whole schedule (which is masterfully juggled to accommodate 4 children!), happily, to play with her visiting nephew and niece while their Nana worked. (And who sent home a pile of presents that the aforementioned babies absolutely adore!)
268. Coming home. The feeling of wanting to hug your furniture!
269. How my husband has happily embraced a new way of eating and living. The man is nothing if not amiable.
270. A stroll with my children on a very mild afternoon, seeing the breeze in their hair, hearing the birds sing, and feeling peaceful in my soul.