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Time to Be...

                                                          






This weekend was one of those rare treasures. For me, it was all about girl time. My mom, my sisters, our daughters, and of course the twins — all of us together. The sound of the twins’ giggles mixed with the familiar rhythm of family chatter felt like music I hadn’t realized I was missing. There’s something sacred about the energy that flows between women in a family. The twins were at the center of it all, their bright eyes soaking up every bit of love and attention. Watching my daughters nurture them, seeing my mother’s gentle touch as she played with them — it was a moment that bridged time. I caught myself quietly observing, feeling gratitude for the generations of women who’ve shaped me, for the lessons passed down in kitchens and living rooms and little piggies getting polished for the first time.

While we were savoring our girl time, Eli and the boys were having an adventure of their own. They spent the weekend at a hunting lodge — my husband, our son, our son-in-law, and Jax, our grandson. It was a trip full of crisp air, muddy boots, and moments that seem small but mean everything. They came back tired, happy, and full of stories. Our son harvested a deer and while there was pride in his voice, there was also reverence. The stillness of the woods, the peace that comes from being surrounded by creation, and the unspoken connection between fathers, sons, and grandsons sharing a moment so rooted in tradition. It seems that out there, away from the noise, it’s easier to hear God, easier to feel His presence in the wind through the trees, in the quiet understanding between men who don’t need to say much to feel close to Him.

Two different weekends, two different kinds of joy, but all part of the same beautiful picture. That’s what family is, I think — the balance of both energies, the nurturing and the providing, the quiet and the wild. It’s the gathering and the going, the laughter of the women and the steadfast strength of the men. At the center of it all is gratitude — for time together, for the stories we’re writing as a family, for the generations that continue to grow and love and learn from one another.

This weekend reminded me that we need both. The softness and the strength. The home and the horizon. And somewhere between those two spaces, life feels whole. 













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