29 | 15 Before I get too tired

There is an endless list of things to do each day, some items more pressing than others and all superseded by two precious and precocious children. Tonight I need to clean this house and do laundry and try to wrap my head around what the rest of this week is going to look like (especially while Joshua is at work) but first I just needed to sit down and write a little. And half of those things probably will not end up tackled at all before I fall into bed and my head hits the pillow.

Tonight I am thankful for friendships. We went over to Colton and Kim's this evening to have a Labor Day cook-out and it is a beautiful thing to just walk into a friend's home and make yourself comfortable on the porch with a beer in hand and pass babies around from person to person and let toddlers chase each other through the yard and down the hall. It's one of those moments in life where you've realized you've hit the sweet spot and you just wish you could freeze the passing of time and live it forever, just like this. Juxtaposed with that peace and contentment at the Kilgores' tonight was the sadness of watching the Hayes pull out of the driveway this morning and start their journey home to Kentucky. It's been a week of living in a house that's full of love and life and life-noises... laughter and chit-chat and dishes clanking and toddler giggles and guitars and singing on the back porch and music playing on the iPod dock in the kitchen and people moving up and down the stairs and in and out of the front door. It feels so lonesome and empty without them here now. Although I respect the sanctity of families and boundaries, I don't know why Americans insist on cloistering themselves away from the vibrancy of living in community. We're better together, people.

So I am thankful and sad-- thankful for this week with Michael and Jain and their kids in and out of the house, and thankful for times like tonight when we gather with friends and just enjoy the time being together; sad that the sweet spot isn't permanent this side of heaven and we only get to savor it temporarily and then live on the memory until the next time we happen upon it again. Gives us something to look forward to in eternity, though, doesn't it?