dreams come slow, but they go so fast

 

I’ve always had a thing for milestones, dates—memorializing the things of the past. Forgetting is not my thing. I remember even when I was very young asking my mom questions about getting older, about remembering. “Do you remember very much from when you were little? Does it all seem fuzzy now? Will I forget everything about growing up?”

Maybe that’s why I love pictures. They help me remember.

A year ago tonight, I was sharing an upstairs guest room in Philadelphia with my bff Hannah and my little brother Caleb. A year ago tomorrow, I said goodbye to them both and to the beautiful Pennsylvania that was my home for a small but filled-to-bursting two months.

 

I have been blessed to see my adoptive PA family twice since then—for a two-week visit in October and then when they came out for my wedding in February. I even got to see my dear Hannah and Caleb again in April when I went to Florida. But oh how I miss them, and always will as long as 2,500 miles lay between us.

I just hope that in heaven we’ll be neighbors.

grace, weekly // 2

 

i. the wistful silence of October’s colorful end, and the close of another visit to my Pennsylvania home.

 

 

ii. a peanut butter fudge milkshake (yes, of course it’s from Ritchey’s).

 

 

iii. this beautiful family letting me take some pictures of them.

 

 

iv. this man and only 111 more days.

 

 

v. when the airplanes wait on wet tarmac while the sky cries silver tears, as if it can feel the hurt in my heart when I say goodbye.

 

 

vi. a vase of petunias on the sunlit November sill.

 

 

vii. music.

 

There is a certain place deep in my heart that this song pricks with melancholy. Not because of my own regrets, but because it hurts a little bit to know that most of the world is wondering what happened to the “good ol’ days” and wondering why we only let them seem good when they’re so long gone. Someday, today will be the good ol’ days. I can see it: the bloom of youth beginning to pass, the passions of a carefree heart giving way to the die-for-you love of motherhood, and looking back to wonder where the years went. But why look back and wonder why I didn’t love my life and the blessings in it as much as I should have “back then,” when I can choose to change my view of life in the now? Harder, yes, this contentment and joy—but invaluable.

 

 

viii. words. 

I watch the hands move grace on the clock face. I’m growing older. These children growing up. But time is not running out. This day is not a sieve, losing time. With each passing minute, each passing year, there’s this deepening awareness that I am filling, gaining time. We stand on the brink of eternity.

- Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

 

 

ix. Bible.

 

Grace upon grace—blessing upon blessing. It gushes into our lives from the blood of His wounds and the pulse of His resurrection. It is His death for us and His life with us. I can’t not be thankful.

 

 

<center><a href="http://halliejophotography.blogspot.com/search/label/grace%20weekly" target="_blank"><img alt="Hallie Jo Photography" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8JQp9aHkWjN873iY-8FzwCZI8UjVHW7geUKwXxz5Kd12zTgtDJo0sriNWjVzsGlV6s8xbpbR8U53_tj67EvMZmSPTQBx6sacRqLPNITCDC8IkUGEX8o8byBQZYvW9jNLUhpR7W6ldKo8/s207-p-no/" /></a></center>

the johnson family

 

I don’t think it gets any cuter than this. Megan, Adam, Isaiah, and Toby make up a truly beautiful family—and not just in the standard sense. It’s hard to find people more in love with the Lord than these! They have been an encouragement and inspiration to me ever since I met them during my first visit to PA, and I’m so thankful for their godly example of what marriage and family were designed to be.