After the venison roast and and baked potato wedges and quinoa pudding, we sit and visit and laugh until the kitchen chairs get too hard. We move into the living room, push aside the renovation mess and make a little room to sit. Tyson hands Clint a guitar and we’re off, playing and singing and laughing some more.

It’s beauty in the mess, the sound of music and joy. I look around at the faces of my family and these friends, so beloved, all of them. And I’m grateful.

Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy …

Psalm 98:8