When we left Florida, I made a list of things I was going to miss...and things I was not going to miss. Because sometimes, it really helps to write things out so that later when you are romanticizing the last base, you have tangible evidence that, yes, you really did live in an RV …

A little over two months ago, we were in the middle of our move. One of the things we couldn't bring with us was our little pallet garden (though I did manage to bring our potted lemon tree, which rode shotgun from Florida to Virginia, scraping its spiky arms against the dashboard through four states).

The beach has been such a wonderful haven for us this year as we have occasionally needed to escape the confines of the RV to find beauty and breathing room, and never more so than these last few weeks of social isolation.

Easter morning I went for a prayer walk/jog, just trying to catch the sunrise. The half moon held court, fully visible high above my head, but the sun persistently hid behind a thick fleece of clouds that hovered low on the horizon. I pointed my face resolutely towards the east and waited, taking in the slow splash of the surf on the shore, thinking and praying.

Deep beneath the surface of the ocean, a small Japanese pufferfish toils away creating a temporal piece of art that, to our eyes, looks like an underwater alien crop circle. It's actually a masterpiece of love.

This morning when I left for my run, it was still dark out with just a hint of sunrise pulling itself up by the fingers along the eastern horizon. I run an out and back these days, so as I ran I looked forward to the moment when I would turn around and be able to see the sunrise for the return run.

I have yet to update the blog for the new year, and it is quite simply because we have been busy and we have been sick (collective coughing and nose blowing). I've discovered that when I have mucus pouring out of all my facial orifices, all I really want to do is read novels and disappear for a while from my own snottiness. Unfortunately, life goes on even while you're sick.

This morning, I ran three miles. This doesn't seem terribly impressive when laid side by side with the fact that I ran a half marathon only a little over a year ago. But I've been dealing with a running injury since this summer that has left me limping after the kids like a one legged duck. So the fact that I was running at all (even if my foot still doesn't feel like it should) was kind of a huge deal for me, even if I end up paying for it tomorrow (as is typically the case).

Three months ago, I had the honor of getting to watch my brother-in-law graduate from high school. My in-laws have molded and taught him, shepherded him and sacrificed for him, and now, as he heads off to college, they can do so knowing that--while they may wish they had more time--they have prepared him well.

Just a quick reminder for your Monday morning that anything can be a bookshelf if you try hard enough (and potentially think outside the box). Even a very large command hook that is supposed to be used to hold your mom's bag.

Last week, I drove by what used to be a car wash and saw a man calmly vacuuming out his pristine black sedan in the half of the car wash that's still standing.

I'm coming back to apply an add-on to Sunday's post...mostly because honesty is important to me and balance is a necessary ingredient when we talk about perspective (which is a theme that keeps cropping up for me here).

There is a tendency, for many of us, to go into survival mode when things get rough. We concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and find ourselves with hardly any energy left for anything else.