Sometimes hope looks profound. And sometimes it looks like a five-year-old labeling a feeding tube “French fries and Pepsi.” A story about illness, cancer, laughter, and the small ordinary things that help soften hard days.

A few weekends ago, both of my grandchildren landed in the penalty box. Watching them serve their time and skate right back into the game made me wonder where I've been playing it too safe—and what it costs us when we're so afraid of getting something wrong that we stop sounding like ourselves.

For years, I believed my body needed more discipline, more restriction, and more pushing. Now I am beginning to wonder whether it needed something entirely different: less judgment, more listening, and the chance to finally feel safe. This weekend, that lesson came through a warm bowl of oatmeal.

A weekend of hockey reminded me that winning is not always found on the scoreboard. Sometimes it looks like taking another shot, getting back up after a fall, encouraging a teammate, or discovering strength you did not know you had.

I had planned coffee on the deck, quiet time with God, and a peaceful Sunday morning. The green beans—and my husband—had other plans. Forty-eight pints and six quarts later, I was reminded that abundance often arrives with work attached.

A cracked bubble wand reminded me that not every moment needs to be useful. This holiday weekend, let’s make room for bubbles, sparklers, bright shoes, and the small joys we often rush past.

Last summer, we got sod on our anniversary weekend. I know. Romantic. It was 105 degrees, thirty-to-forty-mile-an-hour winds, and I was deeply, deeply annoyed. I had other plans. A year later, my husband still brings it up. "Remember how mad you were when I ordered sod for our anniversary weekend?" Yes. Yes, I do. But funny thing about time — sometimes it reveals meaning that frustration hides. What felt like a ruined weekend became one of the clearest pictures of forty years of marriage I've ever experienced. I used to have a plaque on the wall that said, "They say marriages are made in Heaven. But so is thunder and lightning." That pretty much covered it.