Golden linings

This summer will probably go down in our family history as "that summer."  As in, remember that summer?

The weather has been atypical.  Our house looks different.  There's a sharps box on the kitchen counter, an entire drawer dedicated to diabetic supplies and a box of wedding announcements that migrate from the table to the counter to a nearby desk as Braeden and Anna are chipping away at addressing them.

My activities have been different.  Mark and I average about two trips to the Salt Lake valley each week for appointments.  I spent most of yesterday planning my art curriculum and dreamt about art all night (which isn't a terrible thing).

They'll be no "going back to normal" from this.  There will only be adjustment.  At the end of the summer, Mark will still have diabetes, Emma will be in France (hopefully they'll get back to her with her assignment soon which is a whole other thing), Braeden will be married, I'll be a teacher and Adam will more than likely be pulling extra duty as the buoy that keeps us all afloat.

Last night Adam and I went out onto the deck at 9:00, which is prime time to go out on the deck in the summer.

Emma, who is fighting a cold, went to bed early.  Braeden and Anna and Mark had been bow tie and sock and suspender shopping for the wedding with Anna's little brother Owen who is in Utah visiting cousins.  Braeden cares about only a few things wedding related.  He foremost cares about Anna and whatever she wants.  Second to that was the socks and bow ties.

Adam and I admired the evening and puzzled over the sprinklers (because that is what we do every summer) and wondered when the boys would be home.

Eventually Mark wandered out and said that Braeden had taken Anna home.  So we read scriptures and had a prayer with just him.

This was the view:

I decided golden linings are a thing.

Around here we don't need silver linings; we don't have dark clouds.  Maybe we need golden linings.  Maybe golden linings are for seismic shifts.  Maybe the golden linings are the reminders of what is real and what matters.  The golden linings are the pauses where you rest and remember that the Creator of the universe loves you and designed beautiful sunsets for you every night.  You just need to go outside and feel the breeze come off the mountain and enjoy the show.

Every seismic shift has a golden lining.