August 4

This was one of those days; the kind that delivered up so many little signs and reminders of God's presence that I struggled to isolate just one moment.

So I didn't. Behold the quadrangle!

First up was my tomato harvest. After plucking a few fruits here and there from my monstrously huge volunteer plant over the past few days, I finally decided to do a serious harvest this afternoon. The final product was a lovely plastic container filled with some of the sweetest, biggest cherry tomatoes I've ever grown. But I can't really take credit for growing these; after all, I practically ignored the plant for a long time, and it decided it was going to survive. It reminded me once again of how God produces fruit --and a lot of it-- despite suboptimal conditions. And the bonus? I get to enjoy it!

Item number two: We went to water the plants on Logan's grave this afternoon, and I was struck by the beauty and unexpected color variety of some of the blooms. I was surprised to find both pink and purple flowers on the same plants, and something about it just made me happy.

Item number three: Our friend Jen and her family are moving to Texas this coming week. It was something of a sudden decision, and it rocked my world a little. Though she's an on-the-go chick and I almost never saw her, she was around when it mattered: the morning that I went into labor with Brady, the night that my purse was stolen in Emeryville and I needed someone to watch the kids so I could go file a police report. I didn't see her often, but somehow I knew she'd be there if we really needed help. I'll miss her, but I'm thankful to know her.

Finally, the dog. Yes, that is indeed a dog. I'm not sure of the precise breed, but I'm pretty sure it's at least part golden retriever. Shortly after Logan passed away, I remember telling our pastor that I needed a sign. Fumbling for the words, for something, I said I needed a golden retriever to run up to me so I'd know Logan was ok. It had to be a golden because we always called Logan our golden retriever, both because of his reddish hair, and because of his enthusiasm and zest for living his life. I've spent the last year and a half waiting for that dog to come to me. And then today, when I wasn't really thinking about it, it did. It didn't run; it sort of wandered. And it parked itself at my feet. It probably would've licked me, but well, I'm not big on drooly doggie tongues. But it was enough seeing it there at my feet. And I felt a little jolt of glee knowing that at long last, I was having my moment. It wasn't exactly as I'd imagined it, but it was what I'd asked for. And that's good enough.