I meant to write about how grateful I am for parents who grew us up on whole foods, where the term "made from scratch" confused me because I never had a boxed meal until a sixth grade run-in with Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.
I meant to write about a hero-friend of mine who's fighting cancer and doing it prettily and genuinely and gospel-centeredly, who I can't be around for more than ten minutes without the full gamut of emotions rising up inside of me.
I meant to write about how when your friends are getting married and getting loved and getting all sorts of things you want out of life, that the original call on both of you doesn't change--bear the image of God.
I meant to write through the lyrics of Joy to the World before Christmas.
I meant to write about how I'm taking some of January off from blogging, but how I'd love it if some of you wanted to write for me instead.
I meant to write about how we've been working our way through a pomegranate all week in the office I share with her, and how every gem of juice in my mouth reminds me of one of my favorite conversations in life.
But instead I caught my fifth bout of sick in the head and lungs of the year and I really, really, really got nothin' for you. So enjoy photos instead (especially you NYers who want to see our little nest).