Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Thirty-two years ago, my dad nailed together a porch for my childhood home. It was base for games of tag, our school room on warm days, and under the clematis vines eighteen years ago, it became the chapel where I said my wedding vows.
This summer, our tired porch was rebuilt by my husband and three sons working alongside the man who first sketched the plans for this house and crafted the home that was mine...and became ours.
God is gracious.
|:: Papa Monte and Monte B. ::|