Today I was swamped. With the Storycrafter’s Seminar just a week away and a house guest coming soon, life’s demands swirled around me. It was late afternoon when my hubby suggested a walk. The clicking time bomb to do list screamed, “no.” I glanced behind him to a window framing a brilliant cobalt sky and a yellow-leafed bush. Then I glanced back at hubby, looked into those baby blues that first attracted me to him, and thought, “of course.”

Shoving my chair back from the computer, I dashed up the stairs for my tennies taking two steps at a time, grabbed my sunglasses from the ledge, and ignored his suggestion that I grab a jacket. (I am convinced this whole perimenapausal thing is happening to me because it takes frigid air for me to be cold these days. That–or dressing in sandals and a skirt and rushing out the door without a coat like I did at 7 a.m. earlier this week. But I digress.)

The crisp autumn air brushed against my face and coatless arms as we crunched across the leaves in our front yard and headed through the neighborhood toward the walking trail. My poor husband did a lot of nodding as I talked with barely a breath (though I was beginning to huff and puff a bit by this point) about all the stuff happening with HIS Writers and ACFW Colorado–a myriad of things most people will never see, the behind the scenes triumphs and struggles that make or break organizations and events, but are really important only to someone immersed in them.

Meanwhile teenagers staged a football game on the grass in the middle of the track we circled while some little boys peeked through the fence at them, their own football in hand. We then went down the hill, underneath trees almost barren, and passed through the park. There two tiny boys in baseball gloves they’d yet to grow into listened with serious intent to their dad, who threw the ball high in the sky and urged them to go for the catch. My husband grinned wider as he inclined his head toward them. “Isn’t that cool?” he said.

We pushed up the hill, both of us panting by this point, passed the fence where three yippy dogs always chase us, and too soon we were home.

It’s the little things in life that I’m thankful for–like a walk on a golden fall day with the one I love.

Like working for an organization that really cares about writers and training them up to share words that will draw others to Christ.

Like getting good deals on printing. Like retreat centers and hotels that reduce down payments so we can go for the dreams God put inside of us for this group.

Like standing side by side with a board who works hard and loves well.

Like believing in friends and watching them succeed.

Like chuckling at correspondence with clever speakers to be.

And like my daughter cleaning the shower downstairs so Susan May Warren won’t be too grossed out when she comes next week.

Or maybe those things are actually big things.

May your November be filled with the beauty of little things . . .

A writer, speaker, and homeschooling mother of four, Paula Moldenhauer is passionate about God’s grace and intimacy with Jesus. She is published in book compilations, magazines, and e-zines, and writes curriculum for David C Cook’s new RIO! line. Her website, Soul Scents, offers a free weekly devotional, and you can visit her blog at GraceReign. Paula serves as president of HIS Writers, the north Denver ACFW chapter. A devoted Pride and Prejudice fan, she loves good conversation, peppermint ice cream, and walking barefoot. Her greatest desire is to be close enough to Jesus to live His fragrance.

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