My heart is about to burst.  Not in a medical sense because, well, that would be pretty serious and I probably wouldn't be posting right now if that was the case.  No, my heart is overflowing with love and gratitude.  We've had a busy, busy weekend with a couple of showers and Carson's first senior year event.  (I'm going to talk about my baby being a senior in my next post.)  So many milestones.  So much excitement.  So much emotion. 

My sister-in-law, Teresa, and niece, Erin, gave Blair and John Samuel a big family kitchen shower on Saturday and made it so special with all the wonderful, little details.  The sweet ladies of our church hosted a bridal tea for them on Sunday and, let me tell you, the Baptist women did not disappoint.  All the weekend's festivities have gotten me thinking about the times in life when seemingly routine gestures become, oh, so memorable to us.  Those days when the usual way of doing things seems so dear.

I decided that there are, at least, three times when love given to us by others seems especially warm and precious.  When lavish kindnesses are directed toward those who are dearest to us.  When we're approaching a corner ahead, nearing the end of one of life's stages and feeling sentimental about changing direction.  And when we find ourselves looking down from one of life's highest points or trying to find our way out of one of its lowest valleys.  And maybe, in the rare instance, when all three of those collide, well, maybe it's just more than a heart can hold.  Maybe we're most sensitive to the kindnesses and friendship of others at those particular places along the road of life.

Whether they spent days cleaning house, running errands, and filling their home beyond capacity with guests.  Baked a bajillion tea cakes or a rich pound cake.  Whether they stressed over the flowers being just so.  Worked on beautiful invitations.  Sat at the register book with a precious smile.  Took pictures to help us remember the day.  Stayed behind the scenes knee deep in the details.  Drove hours to get to us.  Or just gave up an afternoon and kept their church dress on a little while longer to come celebrate the couple's happiness.  There's not one act of kindness that we couldn't see and appreciate and treasure from where we were standing.  Not one that didn't touch us at the deepest part of our hearts.           

Our family is standing on one of life's highest points right now.  So high that we can look around and take in the full view of all of our blessings.  From where we are now, we can see every good thing that has come from God's hand.  But, we've not always been on life's mountain.  We've taken trips through the valleys.  Those points where it's hard to see anything except the steep climb required to get back to where things are good again.  Like when my Daddy was suffering with cancer or watching Davis' mother decline with Alzheimer's disease.  In both the high spots and the low points, there's been one thing I've noticed.  When I stopped and looked around at both places, the high peak and the low vale, I've seen the same beautiful faces surrounding me.  Faces of the sweet souls who went there along with us.   

To weep with us and to celebrate with us.

Walking side by side with God's people is a beautiful and warm place to be. 

"Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep."  Romans 12:15 

Thank you, God, for friends who've done both with us and for this time of life when we're enjoying a beautiful mountaintop view. 



 

Y'all have a great week!