Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

Monday, October 17, 2011


Memories float back, so clear this time of year. Warm air brushing my face as I walked in, smelling of chocolate chip or snicker-doodle cookies depending on the menu that day. I can still feel the crisp clean sheets that always smelled slightly of bleach. Cheering of fans, this announcer, the game playing in the background. Oh, my grandparents loved baseball. Especially this time of year, because if it was still on in their house it meant the Cardinals were winning.

Remembering the stories of my mom listening to the games with her grandpa, as they repeated the same with me. Holding his hand going to the game, the strong smell of popcorn, excitement in the air. This week is for slowing down, making our own memories. Waking up to the gift of our moments. Watching some Cardinals baseball with one more generation.

~Silky sweet smelling curls
~Cousin love
~Lifting of hands together
~Unexpected, surprising blessing
~Sunrise that glows
~Fall drives
~Unwavering support of friends and family
~Warm small arms that wrap me in love
~ Privilege of ministering to others
~World Series baseball with the Cards:)

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