When I get toys out for the children who come to my home, I see the boxes.
They are on the top shelf of the toy closet.
They were enjoyed by my children.
They have remained in their original boxes for many years.

Children have to be a certain age before they can open those boxes.
A prerequisite is that they have to know how to read.
They also have to be a certain age to understand the story they are reading.
They have to be old enough to think critically.

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I have cookbooks in my kitchen on the shelf above my desk.
The cookbooks I have there are my favorites.
However, they are not the ones I go to most of the time.
The ones I go to most of the time, I made myself.

The newspapers used to have a food section each week.
That food section included recipes.
I found many delicious recipes that way.
I have made many of those recipes through the years.

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We have so many books in our house.
There are currently nine large bookshelves in various rooms.
There are four bookshelves in the living room alone.
There are three bookshelves on the bridge that overlooks the family room and foyer.

I know every book.
I have not read every book.
Some are reference books and are meant to be looked at from time to time.
Other books are on my to-read list.

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I like to listen to podcasts when I walk in the morning.
Some mornings, I need to be quiet.
Some mornings, I am called to pray.
However, listening to something that teaches me as I walk is special indeed.

I was listening to Truth for Life, which is the teaching of Alistair Begg.
Alistair is the pastor of Parkside Church in Cleveland, Ohio.
That was my son’s church when he clerked in federal court and lived in Ohio for a year.
It is also the church where he met his wife.

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Three of us get together to pray.
It is a sweet time.
We trust each other.
We share each other’s burdens.

We do not meet on the same day each month.
Schedules often prohibit us getting together.
We have to go back and forth with a few texts before we find a day that works for each of us.
It is always worth the struggle it takes to coordinate.

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I had to run into the grocery store for a few things.
As I walked from my car to the entrance, I heard the beeping.
I looked around expecting to see a truck reversing in the parking lot.
There was no truck.

I wondered if it was someone’s car alarm.
All the cars I passed were silently parked in their space.
As I was walking, I saw a man pull out of a handicapped parking space.
He made such a wide turn that I had to get out of the way.

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My daughters and I had a mother/daughter day this past weekend.
We plan this special day every year.
We have done all sorts of things.
We have seen plays, a ballet, and took a carriage ride around Central Park.

This year we stayed fairly local.
A town nearby was having a Holiday Village Market.
Artisan and Vintage vendors set up small tents in the charming village.
Live music and fire pits to warm yourself in the cold were scattered about.

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It was time for my husband to bring it down from an upstairs closet.
It was purchased along with the other baby items when our first grandbaby was expected.
I wanted to have everything set up here to make it easy for my daughter and her husband.
I knew that whatever we bought would be used for all of our grandchildren, as God allows.

A crib, dressing table, swing, baby seat, and bathtub are all here for their use.
A stroller, car seats (both infant and toddler) are here as well.
Baskets with toys that my children played with, are in the back corner of our family room.
The one item that remained upstairs was the high chair.

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Did you ever think about how many signs you see each day?
Signs that inform.
Signs that heed warning.
Signs that point out a detour.

We are bombarded with signs that we must read as we go about our daily life.
Some we barely notice until it becomes necessary, like an EXIT sign.
Some we have to pay attention to, like road signs, street names, and route numbers.
Some are useful to us, such as the hours a store is open.

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Five months have gone by since the birth of our precious granddaughter.
Five months of growing and changing.
Five months of new discoveries and skills.
Five months of hugs and cuddles.

My sweet granddaughter has begun to eat cereal.
I remember the days of introducing solid food to my children.
I remember all the instructions that, as a new mother, I took to heart.
I followed our doctor’s guidelines as to how to introduce each new food, one at a time.

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