Wednesday, December 16, 2015

One Day

Morning.

 








  
 

Midday.



 


Evening.





This is the season of rising in the dark, of walks to school under lamplight.
This is the season of returning home, and firing up a hot cup of tea along with my computer.
This is the season of fuzzy socks, blankets, and the glow of the Christmas lights while the world wakes up, just a little.
This is the season of words, words, words, typing in yoga pants, showering at 2pm.
This is  the season of gray, damp days.
This is the season of therapeutic baking, homeworking, box top clipping, gift wrapping, violining.
This is the season of quick dinners, because routines matter even more when it's crunch time.
This is the season of all-day candles, messy surfaces, crafts to kill the pre-dinner hour, and saving the dishes 'til morning.
This is the season of books and Mad Libs, our Advent study (sometimes), bedtime prayers, and the hum of the furnace.
This is the season to live slow on the inside, leaning into sadness and joy.
This is the season of Homeland on the couch, hot peach tea, and reading one last chapter in bed...
before rising again in the dark.

This is my season of gratitude, thick and deep.