Because you should never fast from gratitude…
424. A family walk to Sunset Park – sans jackets!
431. Jack picked a bouquet of camellias, hellebore, and rosemary and brought it to me.
442. Rereading The Shape of Mercy. Mick Silva at WaterBrook Press gave me my copy, and he managed to get Susan Meissner to sign it. The inscription reads: “Kimberlee – Live to love – Susan Meissner.” And yes, she spelled my name right and everything.
474. Writing brings me back to myself, back to the person I want to be, back to the faith I so easily abandon as I live my day-to-day life. Stories – the ones I read that resonate with me, but especially the ones I write – remind me who I am, who I want to be, what I believe, what I want to believe. I am so grateful for words.
481. The beautiful and encouraging article my friend Cathee sent me about artists whose genius only appears after sustained time and effort.
484. Read The Penderwicks on Gardam Street yesterday. It’s as delightful as the first book. A treat to read. And Jane Austen in-jokes for those of us in the know!
490. Cherry trees in bloom
499. Tea with toast.
500. Toast with Nutella.
509. Tim Dearborn’s sermon on Sunday was exactly what I needed to hear.
515. Jack composed his first rhyme last night. This morning he asked if I would write it down for him so he could copy it. Of course I could. And did. Here it is:
by Jack Ireton
Ships come. Ships go.
Some are big. Some are small.
Some meet others
that are tall.
My writer mama’s heart beats fast and proud.
531. Dave (my editor at IVP) liked the guest post I wrote.
546. I think I know how to fix my novel. I haven’t been working on it on paper, but I’ve been working on it in my head, and this morning, it finally coalesced.