The day awakens, stretching out coral and lavender chasing out the darkness and stars.
Java fills the air and we place our feet to the floor, responding to its inviting lure. Pitter pat of little feet running down the hall comes too early, but early morning hugs are the sweetest.
A tug of war begins for the two year old to say ROLL TIDE, while the other side of the room tries overriding by yelling L-S-U!!
Laughter erupts as the two year old grabs his blanky and leaves the room away from the obnoxious adults.
Family vacation with three generations is crowded, tense at times, but full of memories that will set the example for the younger ones to live by when they have children of their own.
Writing to you today from the beach, covered in laughter, crying babies, sand and the best part of the summer.
Unless the Lord builds the house,
its builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
the watchmen stand guard in vain.
In vain you rise early
and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
for he grants sleep to those he loves.
Sons are a heritage from the Lord,
children a reward from him.
Like arrows in the hands of a warrior
are sons born in one’s youth.
Blessed is the man
whose quiver is full of them.
They will not be put to shame
when they contend with their enemies in the gate. Psalms 127
Linking with Mulitudes on Monday, Hear it on Sunday use It on Monday