Just as He summoned Adam, fresh from the dust of the earth and the breath of God’s lungs, to sit and rest with Him in Eden, He is calling us to the same.

They are small and bright green and gangly; long limbs zig-zagging beneath them and holding them up— not even an inch tall.

He walks through the door to find me sprawled across the sofa, yoga pants spattered in spit up and spaghetti sauce.

They say, “The days are so long but the years are so short”, and “It will be over in a blink of an eye.” But what they’re not telling us is this…

Scattered around us are plastic bits and pieces. Bright yellow legs with pegs waiting to be pushed into catepillar-like bodies. I sip tea and assemble the creatures.

Rain pelts against the windshield and we welcome it. I delicately unwind the black leather strap from around my journal and open it to a blank page. This next page will decide a lot for us; much more than either of us realize in that moment.