Grateful Acres

Sometimes I walk through the mud. I feel it forming thick clumps on the bottoms of my shoes, and seeping, creeping up my pant legs. After a little while I stop trying to keep the mud to a minimum, and get a little careless- letting the muck and grime splash up on the hem of my shirt. It seeps and creeps there, too, and I start to feel suffocated by it. Finally I abandon all cleanliness and knowingly wipe dirt from my hands across my face, feeling rather immersed and far from a spotless, sparkling bride.  Sometimes the progression from mostly-clean to complete-mess takes me months to accomplish, and sometimes it happens in the first 3 minutes of my day. I know too well the sinking feeling of the first splashes of darkness. When I come to get clean I have another set of choices to make: Do I turn my head down in the sink and splash my face clean... I feel a little better, refreshed enough to move on for a short while before the rest of me cries out to be washed. Do I take a

  There's something strikingly special that happens in our hearts when a child of our own chooses to rest in our embrace. The man carried his world on his shoulders. The load was heavy, but he is strong. His heart and his muscles ached under the weight as he diligently, relentlessly held fast. The man stepped through the door into a busy, noisy, life-filled living room. His attention was immediately drawn to the smallest child, who did her best to keep up with the rest. She wanted to always be front-and-center, always in the middle, never left out. She was full of life and spunk and mystery. Her little mind and mouth couldn't form words yet, but her eyes were beautiful windows into her teeming, joyful heart. The man bent to the little girl and offered wordlessly to lift her into his arms. She accepted, and up she went- he lifted her many times higher than she could stand on her own, and she felt safe in the strength of his big frame. Suddenly being small felt good, and sh