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Early one morning last fall, I shuffled toward the kitchen to make coffee. A warm glow forced open my eyes. The rising sun had transformed my staircase into a Wyeth painting. I love his work, his light, his grainy interiors and dusty windowsills. I fully appreciate his glorification of lived in everyday spaces since I gave up dusting for Lent... in 1997.

Knowing moments like this are prone to fleet,  I raced back into the bedroom for my camera, all the while thinking, this is a pneuma photo, I should post it there! Sigh.

There I stood, in the same house, yet everything had changed. Everything had changed in wondrous, happy, and sometimes confusing ways. Really surprising ways, I mused, as I rubbed my hugely pregnant belly. See, three years ago, life was poised to give me a succession of ins-outs-ups-downs at such an incredible speed, all I could do was let go and live as fully as I dared. Three years of constant change, struggle, and lovely blessings, all leading up to this quiet moment, watching sunlight slip across a wall.

Well, the baby is a month old now, her brother and sister have both grown at least 6 inches since the summer, my husband is expanding his artistic portfolio in exciting and enviable ways, and I am ready to  share my musings again. To my dear friends here, I've missed you. To those new to pneuma, hello, my name is Heather, what's yours?

In three words I can sum up everything 

I've learned about life: 

it goes on.

Robert Frost