Grace in Your Heart and Flowers in Your Hair

Tonight, we all went over to St. Michael's to a concert in the park. In case you didn't know, St. Michael's is "The town that fooled the British." If you actually click through to read the short story of just how that happened during the War of 1812, you will see both the gazebo where the musicians played and the cannon that Pixie, Bud and Wombles pretended to fire tonight. Repeatedly.

They played with these cannons when we were here two years ago, and I'm afraid they are probably the highlight of St. Michael's for the kids.

Anyway, tonight one of Grandma and Boppy's former Fellows and his new wife were playing. The Southern folk music was haunting and beautiful; incredibly evocative. And as they played and I sat on the grass, I looked around and this is what I saw:

And this is what I did:

And then Pixie saw and wanted to learn. Balm to my heart, as you may know if you've my post from the 12th of this month. Oh, the clover chains.

She figured it out. She made me a crown.

And she said, "I wish we had these back in California." I just hugged her tight.

 I sat and listened to the bittersweet music, which was the perfect soundtrack for the evening I had walked into with no stories, no connections on the horizon...and watched as our gracious Lord wove this evening into the longer story he's been telling me and will keep on telling. That he not only knows those things that are good-for-me-but-hard; he knows exactly what sweetnesses speak to my soul, and he gives them freely as gifts.


 Nutmeg danced.

 My daughters and I and Grandma, we wore clover jewelry tonight.

We all had Grace in our hearts, and flowers in our hair.

 

And my heart? It just plain overflowed. But in the process it may have stretched out just a little bit first.