I know there's a lot I'll write about in this space. This was a good space to share who we are and what we're up to. I had good reasons to let the blog(s) sit dormant for a few years. Someday I'm sure I'll share more about that right here in this very space, but today is not that day.
What I will say, is that story is important, even when it's just my own. It's taken me a long time to understand that. It's taken a long time for those words not to feel indulgent and self-absorbing. Each of the last years since moving out West, I have been blessed to be able to go back East and visit with my family. Some of the most precious times of my year are funneled into the short spans of time I have gotten to sit with my daddy, in matching rockers, on a back porch overlooking the Great Smoky Mountains. We usually have our Bibles, devotionals and coffee on a table inbetween us. Sometimes we don't even talk much. It's communication at it's finest. I have learned many great truths and habits of character from my dad. I could fill pages and pages with all he has taught me. Maybe someday I will, but for now I will leave you with this:
It's never too late to start.
|Daddy on the porch.|