bsmiles and sunny days

My grandpa was a reader. He lived in a little house with a lot of people and never had too much to say. I loved him so dang much, with that almost freshly-shaved, scratchy chin on my face when he kissed my cheek. He always smelled so good, just a hint of a Old Spice, smoke, coffee, and Doublemint gum. Always the gum. I carry it in my purse now because it makes me feel like he's not so far away. He always called me "Rebecca" punching each syllable in rhythm. Every chance I could, I would sit with him in the dark kitchen. Jonny Carson would be playing on the TV there, and also in the living room just a few feet away where Grandma was folding laundry. Grampa would unwrap the soiled bandages from his feet and rewrap them every night. I'd sit next to him and watch as he carefully disposed of the old bandages and replaced them with new ones and clean socks. I remember asking him it hurt, but he'd never fess up. He'd always say, "Not too bad." I could

Some kind of wonderful... Today I returned from a weekend in my hometown with all my hometown family. It was so rich and good and right. I missed my mom, and really needed to be there. Making food in her kitchen. Eating meals at her table. Going to bed too late inside the walls of the big house I grew up in. I missed my dad too, he's not the most sentimental man I know, but he has the most tender heart. I don't think my parents had eyes on doing something great when they started their family. They were just young and in love, working hard and doing the right thing. They started in a trailer and moved into a little house when I was very young. I can remember when I was getting close to starting kindergarten, they bought a huge house just a few blocks down the street. We thought we were moving into a mansion complete with a creepy basement and a haunted attic. I was over the moon to have a room with my sister right next to my parent. It felt safe and close. As we grew, they

O Dear Father, Forgive me for my unthankfulness, the love of the world, and contempt of all Your heavenly benefits. Grant me Your Holy Spirit to illuminate the eyes of my mind with the light and living knowledge of Your presence, power, wisdom, and goodness. Inflame my affections that I may desire nothing on earth but you, and to be present with you. I pray, give me these things in Your good time.   Valley of Vision, pg 178 I don't understand how sometimes I can feel so close to Jesus that I could practically reach out and touch Him. Other times I sit in quiet meditation and there's static in my mind. I open my Bible and the words are flat on the page, hardly penetrating the white noise in my head. I spend more time drawing near, I start cutting out music that doesn't give me truth, I quiet my heart, and still I ache from a distance to feel His nearness again. It must have been terrible for the disciples when He would walk away from them after sending them off in a dif