A day

Our car has been hit twice during the past two weeks, once at a stoplight where someone backed into us, and the other time, with a panel flying from a truck on the freeway. Richard was driving alone on the freeway, and was not injured. This is such a tender mercy. There is a lot of damage to the bumper and hood, and the car is being repaired. Things could have been so much worse if the debris had gone through the windshield.

The day of the accident, Richard’s burden grew with two more projects at work, and we were scheduled to host a youth activity at our house that evening. Mark and I set up the activity while Richard finished some work in his office before the boys began to arrive.

The boys chopped wood and made a fire in our solo stove, and cooked hot dogs, marshmallows, and biscuits. Happy sounds echoed through our neighborhood as the boys played kuub. Night fell too early, and soon, there were only adult voices coming from outdoors. I sat in my living room and thought about the good things that happened throughout the day.

A text from a friend.

Time with Mark.

A compliment from a young dad on our home.

A conversation with Paige as I worked in the yard.

A yard full of boys having fun.

Protection from harm. Knowledge. Peace.

Published by

Angela

I write so my family will always have letters from home.