This weekend we celebrated. Cheered a birthday in the family (he's internet-private, but I'll give you a hint ... I'm married to him), and welcomed a friend and mentor back from being gone too long on a journey of a lifetime.
This weekend we worshiped. I felt for chords on an old piano keyboard, gathered with other imperfect musicians, practicing not-quite-enough but giving what we had. My daughter bent and swayed, lifted hands and sashes high above her head, dancing with a group of other precious girls; they moved the crowd to tears.
This weekend we feasted. On tacos and pizza and fantastic barbecue. On flan and French toast, popcorn and donuts. We sipped coffee with family and brunched with friends in comfortable floor-circles in the church lobby.
This weekend we lingered. Walked the aisles of a toy store just for fun, read chapters from stacks of books, and pulled out board games.
This weekend we prayed. Sat in a circle with teammates and friends, laughing out loud and wrestling through decisions, blanketing it all over with prayers both fervent and hushed, silent and spoken.
And this weekend, Noah prayed at bedtime,
"Thank you, God, that I got to hold a baby bunny today."