The Little Things

This afternoon my church ate lunch with a neighboring church. Our congregation is made up mostly of people in their 20s and 30s. The other church includes a strong though small contingent of seasoned life veterans. It felt good talking to people who are more than twice my age. I hope it happens more often.


I spent much of the day lying on the couch watching the Steelers. I didn’t have to answer the phone, run errands, or wash dishes. I just watched football. At halftime I called Dad and we shared our own play-by-play. I was born in Pittsburgh days after their 1980 Superbowl win; Dad and I have bonded over it ever since.

I bought two pair of shoes this afternoon, one grey (my first pair of moccasins!) and one brown. They’re cute and comfortable and affordable. For the past six months I’ve worn nothing but sneakers, nursing a long-term ankle injury. The purchase today signals freedom from sneakers and a chance to feel good about my feet.

My stepdad tells me my mom ate an entire hoagie today. He offered to cut it in half, but she refused his help and chowed down. Just this past spring, Mom would hardly eat even one bite of food per day. What an appetite she has now!

I’m sitting in my house, alone on a rainy evening. I’m wearing an oversized sweatshirt with a dairy farm logo on the front, and I feel toasty warm. I can hear the rain falling and the car tires swooshing through it. I ate dinner in silence, and I didn’t even feel lonely once. I’m reading Matthew, learning about Jesus. My heart feels happy, content, good.

I love this day of little blessings.