My annual reflection on another year in our quirky old house on the best little block of W. Cucharras St.

In the midst of sticky fingers and parenting fails, it’s as if God sharing a very good, beautiful secret with me of a glory that only he knows in full.

We threw Noah the cutest little book launch party you ever did see, and it was a picture to me of God’s delight in his children.

Eight years in this old house have brought many dreams fulfilled and new dreams shaped by the kingdom.

God invites us into his joy through the things he has made.

One of my favorite posts of the year! I reflect on seven years on our street and in this house, and on seasons of receiving as a sign of God’s coming Kingdom.

Perhaps the abundance we’re looking for is hiding in plain sight.

During the season of Epiphany, we remember that just as God revealed his glory, goodness, and light by a star to guide the Wise Men to the feet of Christ, our lives also shine his light, reflect his love, and hold out his hope to the weary in a dark world.

The love and life of Christ in our home bears witness to the truth that our family, our home, our street is caught up in something not just a century old, but something eternal.

It’s our 5th House-iversary!

We’ve spent a whole lot of time in this old house over the past six months, but if possible I think we’re more grateful than ever for our home, our caring neighbors on the best little block on all of Cucharras St., and our weird and wonderful neighborhood.

A few days ago, I heard a mom of older kids refer to her children as “fellow heirs in Christ,” and it was just the lightbulb moment this exhausted, defeated mama needed.

An excerpt from “Land’s End” by August Kleinzahler

This morning brought to you by the unexpected joy of discovering a rainbow shining on our floor—and a poem about the same.

What verses have most helped you understand what the love of God looks like?

On the day after Mother’s Day, when the fun and flowers and watermelon champagne sugar cookies and breakfasts in bed are now an afterglow, and life returns to a more regular, unheralded rhythm of laundry and cutting crust off PB&Js and scheduling doctors appointments and listening to little kids with big feelings, I need to know that ours is a God who sees what is unnoticed.