this wrinkled bed i fell into last night and in which, once ensconced, slept for seven hours straight. which if you've ever struggled with sleep is grace.
one grace smoothed
this same bed, smooth, waiting to welcome us tonight. is there anything cozier than soft flannel sheets on a cold winter night? and i don't forget that it, and this warm house that holds us tight and our down coats and furry boots and all that keeps us buttoned up, they are all grace.
one grace unfolded
these new (smaller) yoga pants, guaranteed to not fall down when i run with grant, bearing witness to the fact that it's sunday and therefore a day that calls for cozy clothes and afternoon naps and some kind of hearty stew bubbling on the stove while dan builds a fire and we settle in. these are luxuries. and they are grace.
this is me being real.