Vacation.

The Philosopher Mom and Scientist Dad, together with the various progeny, are sequestered up in the deep greens of New Hampshire. It promises to be three weeks of deep breaths, long walks in the woods, maybe deer and bullfrogs at twilight, and good food with family.

It is good that we are here.

There can be few gifts sweeter in life than a family home to which we can return. There are certainly few joys that prophesy more keenly the joy of heaven, our final home. I can hardly grasp the enormity of this gift: to be with those who have known you from your first breath, to be at one in heart and mind concerning the Final Things, to laugh at the same jokes, and to enjoy peace and prosperity while knowing they are not ends in themselves. Many families, I know, plan and long for this to be theirs without ever seeing it come to pass. I will take these days to be grateful and to pray for them.

We are resting and recovering from the storms now, readying our hearts for whatever the divine will has for us in the coming months. It is good.