I didn’t really know that I had been waiting for this: a no-big-deal day at the library with my husband and my suddenly-old-enough-to-craft girl, sponge painting stars and planets on our own little patch of universe. But as I watched the two of them co-creating their first real masterpiece, my full-to-bursting heart realized how much territory we’ve covered over the last 18 months, and a way-deep-down voice whispered:
You’ve made it.
Not in a “this is the end of the growing cycle” way or a “you can stop cultivating those crops” way, but in a “this season wasn’t without its storms and droughts and pests, but look at what you’ve managed to grow” way. And on this still-quiet morning, as I sit with my cup of coffee (while gazing at the magnificent piece of art on my refrigerator), I am as grateful for these daily opportunities to admire the harvest as I am for the great big haul.