February 28

I haven't felt especially loved lately. It's probably a glitch in my own perception of reality, but it is what it is. It affects me whether I want it to or not. That's why this was such a nice thing to see when I logged in to play a game this afternoon.

A series of little love notes from Abby. She's not historically been the most affectionate of my kids; Logan was always my love bug, telling me he loved me multiple times a day and offering up scores of hugs and kisses. I miss it.

But I'm so grateful for the unexpected expressions from my girl. And for the not subtle reminder that despite my fears and insecurities, I am loved.

February 27

Sometimes winks aren't about recognizing the lighter side of life. No, sometimes they're designed to provide comfort; to be that quiet voice that whispers yes, I know it's hard. And I know you struggle. And that's okay.

So today's bit comes from a song I heard on the radio. I've actually heard it and ruminated on it a bunch of times over the past few months. But today, the meaning of the lyrics hit me in earnest.

These are some of the words to Lee Brice's "I Drive Your Truck". I looked it up, and it's based on an interview with a family who lost a son; the parent was asked how they cope with the loss. The simple response? "I drive his truck".

Obviously, Logan never had a truck or a car or even a bike. He was only 5 when he went Heavenward. But I feel the soul behind the lyrics. I feel that need to maintain a connection with him in my own special, personally meaningful way.

And I feel --really feel-- this section of the song, which ironically, I only heard --or maybe "tuned in to" would be a better way to say it-- this morning:

I’ve cussed, I’ve prayed, I’ve said goodbye
Shook my fist and asked God why
These days when I’m missing you this much...

I know that feeling. And today, I felt like God was telling me that He knows that I know that feeling. And that it's okay to feel that way. And that's an invaluable thing.

February 26

Sometimes it feels like time is flying by at Concorde-like speed.

I mean, wasn't this little muffin of mine just a newborn? How can he be standing there with his backpack on, ready to go to grandma's house all by his lonesome?

Still, as always, I see God in the time's passage. I've gotten to see Brady grow from babyhood and well into toddlerhood. And that's a pretty awesome thing.

February 25

I'm not a nature girl. Mucking through muck on a camping trip or sleeping in a tent rank up there with, oh, having a mild ear infection. So it stands to reason that it's not often that I'm awed --and I mean really awed-- by something I find outside. Today I --or rather Isaac-- found an exception to that rule.

Amazing, isn't it? An itty, bitty intricate plant sprung from an even itty-bittier seed. A reminder that not only do small things come in small packages, but that those things can be indescribably --surprisingly-- beautiful, too.

February 24

Some days, I see God in the very simplest of elements.

A big sister helping her little brother up the stairs in the bright light of a Sunday afternoon. There's God in the sun, God in the relationship and God in... life.

I'd try to complicate it, to extrapolate something else, but it really is just that straightforward.

February 23

With the exception of a (totally brutal and wretched) case of heartburn, today was a really good one. There were many moments of happiness that bordered on joy. I haven't had many really happy days in quite a long while. But the best part of all? It was just a normal day. So in celebration, today's picture is purely whimsical.

Yep, those are my feet. And double yep, I did indeed go out into public wearing glittery gold shoes, mis-matched rainbow socks and black spandex pants. (And a pink shirt, in case you were wondering.) I totally felt like I belonged on the People of Walmart site, but you know something? It didn't bug me a bit. In my silliness, I felt like I was really alive.

And that sense of shameless freedom, my friends, is a God-given blessing... if we're fearless enough to take it.

February 22

Sometimes, the best reminders of God's presence come in small packages, and those small packages are best-remembered on special days.

This is my adorable niece Brianna, who celebrated her fifth birthday today.

I don't see her, her bro or their parents, my older brother and his wife, very often, since they live back in Maryland and I'm not much of a cross-country traveler. I snagged the photo from my sister-in-law's Facebook page, in fact; I took one look at it and knew she was my winklet today! But they're all blessings to me, even if I don't say it often and even if the physical distance prevents us from being especially close.

Happy birthday, first and lone niece of mine. May God bless you bunches this year.