Picture This

Had a sweet day with a sweet man who is getting better by the minute at acting like a boyfriend. Today he went to work with me and stuffed weekly folders, spruced up centers, and made copies where he was fawned over by a couple of other (jealous) female teachers whose husbands were nowhere in sight. Then he took me into the city so I could spend my birthday money. But as great as the day was, it did eventually wind down to an end.

As I sat next to him in the truck, late afternoon sun shining into the windshield, tires eating up the miles between fun and reality, I started to sink.

I hate it, but I do it every Sunday. The closer evening gets, the more I start to think about work and the dreaded Monday morning alarm clock. I fight. And sometimes I win. But more often than not, I don't.

By the time we got home, I was really sad. But I walked in the door, looking for my kids, because they always make me happier...and Parker bounded in front of me, hugged me, and then put his hands over my eyes.

"Don't look" he said as he steered me toward the kitchen.

Music was playing, and I could hear Hillary moving something around.

"OK." she finally said. "Open your eyes and see if anything has changed."

I slowly scanned the room until I saw my photo collage frame sitting on the counter...full of brand new shots of her, Parker, and love messages written in the sand. I exclaimed and examined and felt happy again. While we were gone, Hillary had taken her brother and her brand new birthday-present camera to the park. She printed out the best shots and filled my frame with love and beauty. And my heart with smiles.

Somehow, seeing the world through her eyes and her camera makes me realize how blessed I am...how God sends me beauty in flowerpetals and fingerprints...and how he's gifted my children with creativity and generosity. They are made in His image. And I'm engraved on His heart.