I am cleaning up from the festivities of yesterday.
Poppy was blessed in church.
Sweet little Poppy cried through the entire thing, making her daddy quite nervous.
David gave a beautiful blessing as always.
I love all baby blessings,
but there is something especially tender about listening to a father bless his tiny girl.
We had a luncheon at our home after our meetings.
I received a new journal this weekend and knew pretty quickly what I wanted to use it for.
I love planning special occasions for my family,
usually jotting down long lists and ideas or sketches on paper.
I am hoping that it might be fun in years to come to flip back through this journal
and see the shopping list for a child's fourth birthday, or baptism, or graduation party.
Poppy's blessing is the inaugural entry in that little book.
I shared my thoughts about her blessing at the end.
But I suppose that I am also hoping somewhere down the road,
my family will read a bit deeper into the lists for
grainy Dijon and Gruyere,
and understand that those careful notes and planning are just evidence of
one way I attempted to show my love for them.
I hope they remember that we celebrated their important milestones,
that we celebrated them.