ordinary day

It doesn't look glamorous.

It's the sunrise on the horizon at dawn, possums in the vent, pee in the pants, birds in the yard, books on the floor, tractors on the couch, oatmeal stuck to the face, sunshine in the eyes, puddles under the house, pajamas all day, dirt in the toes, hours in the van, chicken wire on the vents, spiders on the walls, water from the well, smoking garbage in the can, rides in the combine, stranger's dogs on the porch, laundry in a heap, cereal on the dinner table, bubbles in the bath, bouncing on the bed, deep darkness in the night.

Nope, it's not glamorous or note-worthy,
but it's our ordinary day.
There's a quote in "Crazy Love", {Francis Chan} that struck me by Annie Dillard, 
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.

See, there are days that are unique and special and catch me completely by surprise. And then there are those that feel completely dull, drab and utterly ordinary.  Both make up the beauty of this patchwork we'll look back on as our lives. The dull days blur together in shades of gray but they are highlighted by the bright colors of the days full of friends, vacations, celebrations, holidays, and surprises. If our lives were a large, colorful, patterned quilt, the ordinary days would be the threads that tie the pieces together; the polka dots and stripes that color those brightly sewn squares.

I want to take neither kind of day for granted, for I know just how quickly things can all change. Ordinary days are the ones that string together to make up our lives. I want this blog to document the less than spectacular days as well as the bright and shiny ones, too. Today is an ordinary day at the farmhouse. The Barbies of my youth have been resurrected and today they are hanging out on their fire-engine red couch. They are wearing pretty shoes and are changing party dresses quite often. And they are really looking darned good and not showing their age one bit.

I love the way he loves them and the way the blond of their hair looks all white and glowy in the sunlight. I love the way Henry raced inside after school and said, "William, let's go play Barbies!". And the way William happily followed suit, but not before claiming the Barbie purse and the baby. It's just an ordinary day at the farmhouse, and I feel appreciative for it in a way that makes me hang on a little tighter to my boys and cling a little bit closer to them. 

And because it was an ordinary day, I should note that shortly after I pecked out this post, even while the sweetness of the warm moments of this day lingered at the forefront of my mind, naptime ended, fights between the boys broke out and I lost my patience. Not glamorous or pretty for sure. But quite ordinary and very typical. In these moments I'm reminded of the extraordinary amount of grace that I'm in need of each and every ordinary and typical day.