The Paintbrush

With Christmas right around the corner, I desperately want to say something profound. Meaningful. Memorable. But I'm just... me. I don't concentrate well, my thinking is scattered and I'm generally here and there and everywhere, mentally. So I'll just do what I can and leave it at that.

It rained a lot today. A friend joked that she saw the Ark go by this afternoon, and I could totally see why, between the puddles in the yard and the standing water on the patio. But it wasn't just rain. It was much more than that. It was intermittent rain; driving torrents interwoven with bright beams of sunlight. Which, of course, meant rainbows. Big, beautiful ones that arched across the sky. When we (yes, we) left for church this morning, I saw my first of many on the day. If not for the line of houses on our street, I could've seen the whole thing, end-to-end. It was sort of like being on Kaua'i, just... colder. And less tropical.

The bright bands of color were comforting. I haven't been really into the whole God-thing lately, but I could see Him painting a picture. And I like to think that He let Logan hold the brush now and again.

Then later, despite the rain, we stopped by the cemetery to check on the flowers and wave hello to our Sunshine. I think Adam and I were both touched to find a pretty potted plant sitting there, keeping his space looking fresh and alive. So thank you to whomever left it for him. Those gestures mean a lot.

Okay, I think that's enough for now. I can't muster the energy to really write. But I wanted to say hi and Merry Christmas.