Often in life, much like in hiking, we can’t see our destination until we’ve arrived. We hear words of encouragement from folks traveling the other direction that “you’re almost there” and “it’s just around the next bend.” Sometimes in our fatigue we forget to look around and enjoy the views along the way. Even if this week feels like it’s been an uphill slog, I pray everyone can experience happy hiking in their lives today.
Northern Indiana is about to redecorate yet again with all the brilliant shades of early spring. I’m praying for the days when the world comes alive with color again.
“Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world, except for a nice MLT. Mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe. They’re so perky, I just love it.” – Miracle Max
While I share Miracle Max’s foodie tendencies I also agree with his original sentiment. True love is heaven on earth. I also came up with my own definition during my days of being courted by the hubby. True love is like a high school calculus test. It’s not enough to state the correct answer. You have to show your work. Actions speak louder than words and just as in The Princess Bride, it’s an adventure that’s definitely worth living for.
Although my mom has been known to gripe about the difficulties of Colorado growing seasons, the stalwart weeds ever seeking to overwhelm her backyard efforts, and the neighborhood deer that annually invade to lay waste to her tulips, I’ve received hours of pleasure capturing colorful blooms like these which she keeps in her garden, little bright reminders of God’s work.
Blue skies and frozen snow melt lakes are a wonder to behold and a blessing all there own. Such was the case in Estes Park, CO on this bright day in early June.
This crisp silver day comes to you from a chilly and relaxing Sunday stroll with my husband. Although the day before was spent bustling all over town for various errands, we took some much needed time to pause and simply enjoy life on the Lord’s day.
As the grey Midwest winter stretches on and the twinkling glow of Christmas lights slowly disappears from the rooftops I can’t help dreaming of warmer days when the world will come alive with color again.
I hope everyone is getting to frolic in the snow this Christmas season as we turn toward the new year.
Although I am a happy Hoosier and have embraced life in the Midwest, I will always be a mountain girl at heart. Every year growing up, shortly after Thanksgiving, my family would strap on our snowshoes and set off into the Colorado wilderness to find the perfect Christmas tree. There were of course the obligatory snowball fights and sledding runs that came with each of these outings before we were ready to head home with the tree secured in the back of my dad’s pickup.
I may be far from Colorado and those stunning mountains but I’m so blessed to have found a husband who is happy to help me keep beloved family traditions like this alive. We might not need snowshoes or sleds this year but even in the Midwest we can still go hunting for the perfect tree.
It is officially December and time for snowflakes and warm woolen mittens. Over the course of my first 21 years in Colorado, I have completely and hopelessly fallen in love with white Christmases in the mountains. No matter how dry of a winter we had, there always seemed to be a little extra magic on Christmas day that blessed our home with a fluffy white blanket.
Blessed in the Midwest 