soft lines of late summer on a subdued cloudy day speak to me. a quiet breeze draws me in. there isn’t anything that I can’t find beautiful on days like these. everything is poetry. everything sparkles with life. settled into the depth of a satisfaction i notice children playing, sunflowers drying and feathered friends “visiting seed side in” at the front porch. i slip today in my pocket to save for later. i make space for the one who holds time and space and created me for moments like these. the maker of these starry eyes. of my children. of my heart. the Lord dwells here. His goodness draws praises from the depths of my soul out of my lips into vast expanse of space that He fills. the earth is filled with His glory. Glory that saturates mundane and magical moments like these. dishes in the sink, sticky floors, messy hair and all. it is here in this little town with my little family in our little house a heart is awakened and alive to the beauty of Jesus.

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– VANESSA

this old house.

homes don’t have souls. but they hold them. i get long lost in dreams this time of year pondering the history we have here. we didn’t know what we were looking for when we found this home. it kind of felt like it found us. Siah and i were just about to be married and looking for a place to call home. i can remember the first time we sat on this porch ready to never leave. we didn’t know it would be the same one we would eat our burnt meals on before we had furniture and money- before i even learned how to cook, the porch we would stay up all night dreaming on, where i spent my first year as a bride alone when siah was deployed to the middle east. where we would watch the weather change as we awaited our first baby. had our next 3 babies born inside these walls. mourned some we couldn’t bring into the world. 12 years and it is a very short period of time compared to how long she has stood here. i have come to adore the red chipped paint i have always wanted to repaint. the unfinished trim we never got around to. the pieces that are outdated in some eyes, and charm in others. we have gaps in our wood floors. unfinished projects strewn about and nothing modern to marvel at. but this little home tucked under the trees has held so much life and supported our dreams i can’t help but give her a glance and smile. this isn’t a showcase of a home. but it has been a large part of our family as we discover who we are and who we want to be. we might not live here forever but while we are here i don’t want to miss the gift this sweet little place has been to us.

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summer song

raw and unedited. just how i like my summer

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date here//

what if slowing down our days didn’t mean “missing out” but actually meant experiencing more. what would fill our days if we left margin for the ordinary. what if we opted out of the hurry for a season and rekindled our love for living. leisurely cooking nourishing feasts for our family. lighting a candle to settle into a good read and allow some space for a family member who needs a good snuggle. leaving more time for extended conversations with family members, friends and strangers alike. opening our days to let our child’s creative mess actually minister to our hearts instead of leaving us biting our lip. noticing the miraculous growing right in front of our eyes. recreating a pocket of space in our home that grounds us. feeling your own breath and remembering the vapor in our existence. creating space to hear your own heart beat and allowing time and space with Jesus, the healer, to heal the pain you’ve ran from for so long. what if we remembered that we are not machines, but mere humans who need to be steeped in beauty, nourished and given space to just be human. maybe the lightness in our souls would do a far more productive and eternal work than the life of hustle, hurry and worry ever could. i don’t think it takes a life overhaul to change your pace. maybe big decisions do have to be made. however i believe that tiny steps towards more intention in life can help lighten the load more than a million changes at once ever could. even in the seasons of crazy we can return to a habit of noticing, being and finding life waiting to be unwrapped as a lovely gift to us.