Does this generation know these simple joys of slowing down, sharing our life stories, and feasting on small, even unimpressive meals - like a bowl of chili - that can provide great comfort and hope?

My five-year-old son proved that the wonder and awe of these experiences and the presence of a Creator were not lost on him. Watching him discover the sound and the massive power of the energy in the falls as we approached was overwhelming to his small frame. After taking in the sight, his first question was, “Mom, is this heaven?”.

It would be sad if this lovey left us because there is no real hope of reuniting. Separation is a scary and painful thing to ponder. Grieving my mother, his Nana, is very different, though. While separation hurts deeply, it is temporary. We WILL be reunited.

These frequent, regular meetings did not occur with the expressed purpose of strengthening our relationship. They naturally happened because we enjoy each other’s company and can’t get enough of each other.

How fitting that Christmas in July came for us at the midpoint of a brutal year. How fitting that during a severe heatwave covered in smothering haze, we can stop briefly to remind ourselves that this is not the end; something lovely is ahead.

It is a place of solitude, reflection, refreshment, and visiting with others. Often, wisdom meets me there. There is something sacred about the porch, and I am in good company when I see its value.

Armed with this new knowledge, we temporarily changed our hunting strategy. It invigorated our search. It is incredible how new revelation can change the value of what may have been overlooked before you and stimulate your appetite to find it.

Let us begin with a controversial statement - watermelon tastes best sprinkled with salt. I can already see the email notifications lighting up! I am a Southern gal raised in Southern ways.

While many meet Mother's Day with joy and appreciation, Father's Day often comes differently. There may be situations where the father is not physically or emotionally present in the home. Father's Day has always been a little different for me because my father passed away when he and I were young.

I can imagine the hundreds of thousands of pieces of sand I have scooped in my hand while forming a drip castle.

Does anyone still wait with anticipation for snail mail to arrive?…Our most recent package was not “snail” mail but caterpillar mail.

“But he would feed you with the finest of the wheat, and with honey from the rock I would satisfy you.”

Before I leave the house this Sunday morning, I will add an extra accessory to my dress - a silk, white carnation.

Three times, Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me?” much to Peter’s exasperation, making an opportunity for complete restoration.