What adequate words are there to describe the love you have for a person who has loved you every moment of your whole life, before you were even aware? The only word I can come up with as my vision yet again blurs with tears is *grace*. It is all—every bit of it—grace.

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

In the same way that he joined himself to our questions when he took on flesh, Jesus has joined us to his life by his own death and victorious rising.

A reflection on the gift of Tim Keller’s life, written on the day of his death

In God’s mercy, some things, even with their inherent imperfections and difficulties, really are as truly good as they seem, as wonderful as you hope they’ll be.

I’ve found that the practice that has done the most to cultivate a heart of gratitude to God is not a mental list of things to be thankful for, but a physical posture that allows me to reach for God, right in the moment.

Those scarred hands alone can hold the gratitude and deep sadness we’re feeling all in the same breath as we praise him for a decade together.

On this Thanksgiving week, there will likely be many messages meant to cheer you, saying “Yes, this year has been hard, but think of all you have to be thankful for!” Some of us will be able to receive that, but if those words just feel like a kick in the ribs in the middle of a hard season, take heart. In the midst of your sorrow, joy is not far from you.

My sister and I got together this morning to make my Grandma’s butterhorn rolls. I cannot accurately describe them—they can only be experienced.

As I ironed shirts at my usual spot by the kitchen window today, Matt came out of our guest-room-turned-office and stopped to chat about our day so far on his way to get something from another room. A quick kiss, and he was off to find whatever it was, and I hit play on my podcast and got back to ironing.

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.