There are moments that can be classified as hopeful…and magical. I’m sitting at my picnic table at dusk. I listen to the birds and the crickets and the frogs. They’re waking up to sing in nightfall.

I watch the full moon rising beyond the bare branches of the trees behind the smokehouse. Skeletal arms reach up – hoping to touch the shimmering moon. That’s magical.

I’ve cheated the season by adding sparkling white lights to the smokehouse. They shimmer like stars below the moon.
I admit I added the lights because my children like them and they bring us Christmas comfort. That is also magical.

I smell freshly mown grass and feel a gentle, cleansing breeze. They bring the promise of peace at the end of the day. These are all love notes sent from a hopeful God.

On Sunday I created a sign for my truck which states “Thankful to the God of HOPE.” I’m gonna display it proudly in my window as I tool down the road.
At dusk God said “You’re welcome” with His full moon rising.

“We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God‘s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. “
                                                               – Romans 5:3-5

Love, the Type A Lady