Is it our anniversary? No. A few more months before that. And in between now and then, we have what is shaping up to be a (good) full fall season, including welcoming a new family member into our home. But when you are facing fullness, it can be so, so good to pause and reflect, to stay grounded through that fullness (even if it's a very *good* fullness!). So I love looking back, remembering, refocusing, and repeating the promises we made to each other. Marriage is beautiful and it is hard (my favorite quote about this, from Jamie The Very Worst Missionary goes something like "We've been married for 20 years, but only the first, like, 20 were hard" - ha!). There is much pruning and resulting growth to be done in both of us...and that is good. Love you, Mark Gordon. Looking back at these promises, and looking forward to this full season together.

"...I take you to be my partner in Christ's service.
I will help you develop God's gifts in you,
and work with you for the coming of the kingdom of God.
I will listen with you for God's call on our lives,
that our home may be a place where the good news is proclaimed,
where justice and mercy are lived,
where God's children are welcomed,,
and where God's name is honored..."

here comes fall

Arriving at the dinner hour tired from lack of sleep, not helped by an anxious attempt at napping this afternoon to try and rally from the previous night's worth of interrupted sleep. But my head is swirling with anxious thoughts, particularly how quickly Zoe is growing up, and how very little I've written in her baby book (plenty on facebook, I know, but I want to be able to hand her a book someday), and how all too quickly I won't be here to witness *all* of her life. Depressing? Yes. Probably because these thoughts are actually connected with depression that comes and goes during different seasons.

I explain it to Mark after picking him up from his first teaching day, which he feels disappointment over. I state how I "made it through" today, and I think in some ways we both feel that. Something in verbalizing how anxious I am about how fast Zoe is growing up brings tears, and as they fall he hugs, and then as is usual, Zoe wants in on the family hug too, all smiles. It helps that she doesn't yet carry many burdens on her shoulders - her smile genuinely bright, without wearied eyes, not trying to gloss over anything hiding behind it. She pushes finger into my face, naming various things - "cheek...eye...wet". Yes, that aptly describes the state of my face right now, sweet pea. Wet with tears from some of the deep, overwhelming thoughts that sometimes invade my mind and that sometimes I am afraid to face. And yet when I see your face, sweet one, smiling brightly without reserve, I can smile genuinely back, through the tears. You bring so much joy to me and your dad, just because you exist.