Today was a good day. I believe my pastor could have definitely been a comedian if he hadn’t been called to ministry. I love the way he can find humor in ordinary things. 

He likes reminiscing about what it was like growing up. I love it too, because the stories he tells are so relatable.

I remember sharing onion pickles, Chico sticks, and candy straws with my friends. I remember playing dodge ball, hot butter beans hula hoops, and jacks until the lights came on. I remember my parents taking us to the park at Easter for our annual Easter egg hunt, and actually losing half of the eggs they hid. 

I love hearing those stories. I love that they make me laugh until my stomach hurt. And that every time he tells those stories…it feels like home.

The older I get the more I appreciate my childhood. The friendships, the neighborhood, and even the school I went to. It makes me feel for the children today. The ones that don’t know what it’s like to be free. That don’t know what it’s like to play outside all day, or to get in trouble for eating grapes from the neighbor’s tree. To come home to the smell of dinner cooking, or to homemade cakes, and apple pies. 

I pray for a world that learns to enjoy that again. To know what it’s like to enjoy the small things we sometimes overlook. 

Things like taking time to feel the sunshine on a warm summer’s day, or to catch snowflakes on your tongue in winter, or to lie on the grass looking up at the stars at night. Things that don’t cost anything, but mean everything.

The things that make memories.

Until next time…

Be blessed