the window seat, please

When I was a little girl I dreamed of a big room with a big fancy desk right in the middle of it. The desk faced the window and it's the place I would sit and make magic, watching the beauty outside from a cushy chair.

I almost had that dream come true in my childhood bedroom, but the nook with the window wasn't quite wide enough to hold my desk. I did situate it such that I could type on my word processor and still get a view of the creek. Poetry flowed and I'm sure it's thanks to having the view as inspiration.

I'm not sure if it was intentional, but my daddy built a big-girl-sized toy box for me when I was barely a teenager -- a toy box that fit perfectly in that nook. While I couldn't type from the toy box (why were laptops invented so late?), I sure could cuddle up on it and read a book. It was my favorite spot and many hours were spent there, just Stephen King, Mary Higgins Clark, John Grisham and I.

As I take this time out from cleaning my own home and yes, rearranging the house to try to find the perfect window seat, I'm reminded of how precious the simplest things are. A toy box with my name carved into a heart on the front; a view of the world from the safety of my home. The inspiration of God's creation is boundless and I'm blessed to see it and love it the way He intended for me.

Thank you, Daddy, for the gift that brought me to tears that Christmas morning close to 20 years ago and still does today.
I love you,