I bought this print after the twins were born. In that confusing time of celebrating new lives while still grieving the loss of Job, and in the deepest depth of postpartum depression. It hung above my desk in Minot. A reminder that storms are passing and each day is a gift.
Somehow it got misplaced during the move to DC, and I often wondered where it was hidden away. I found it again last week. There’s no better place than in the kitchen, tucked among the piles of dirty dishes.
I will be grateful for this day. For every toddler storm, for every spilled cup, for every shouting match over toys, for every lego I step on, for every load of laundry I run. I will be grateful for this day.