Reverence

is more than just quietly sitting. But folding your arms is a start. We pray at every meal. We pray before bed. We pray first thing in the morning. We pray in between. Levi and I prayed a lot this week as Wesley traveled (drove) to Nebraska, South Dakota, Iowa, Montana, and finally back here. The two of us went and stayed with the grandmas and grandpas because it made Wesley more comfortable. One morning when Levi wanted an early breakfast I opened my eyes after praying and this is what I found. Since then he's been a regular arm-folder, but not necessarily during or through prayer.

I've been a little lowgy for a while, which drives me nuts. When my body demands a slow day my brain and hands turn wild screaming, "Release me! Release me!" I've been creating classes in my head, thinking up writing prompts I don't follow, and filling out applications I probably won't send in. When I'm down physically I start to go crazy; boredom and I rarely enter the same room. Being the mother of a one-year-old it's almost impossible to be bored, and yet I'm still afraid of it. Afraid that I'll rut, loose my goals and priorities, and then loose precious teaching moments with my sweet boy. Thankfully, I married a man who helps me grasp my moments of reverence and refocus. Thankfully, I married a man who celebrates my quirks and understands my imperfections. And thankfully, I married a man who can look me in the eye and say, "Cassie, stop saying stupid things. We're fine." And then I remember--oh! We're much more than fine.