A therapist said they couldn’t work with us, and fear rushed to fill the blank space. On Hope’s Day, we returned to a principle our family knows well: err on the side of life. We called our children by name, kept Daddy’s appointment with his sons, ate cucumber sandwiches, and let tomorrow’s Greek salad marinate.
Tag Archives: Cucumber Sandwiches
What Belongs to This Day
For three days, Dad’s sons have been teaching us how to live with an unknown future: Han helped us remain in the unknown, Justus helped us become oriented within it, and Proverb is teaching us how to live there. Sometimes what belongs to the day is not another heroic project to save the future. Sometimes it is cucumber sandwiches, twenty sit-ups, making the bed, turning on Solis’s little lights—and discovering that none of it is nothing.
Notes from the Treehouse 