22/365 Seven more weeks of just Trev and Heth, such a bittersweet thought. But if there's one thing I've learned in marriage it's that a shift in seasons is inevitable, and often for the better. Like shifting from those early days, when we couldn't drive five minutes in the car without playing with each other's hands, to the more settled and steadfast kind of love that marriage brought - learning that sometimes love is soapy hands doing dishes or pulling out the garbage or fist bumps after tiny victories. Lately it's looked like you holding my hand while I pull my pregnant body off the couch and me holding yours over my belly when it shakes with tiny hiccups. In less than two months it'll be my hand squeezing tight to yours as I bring our girl into the world, and after that, who knows. I can only picture our hands completely full, busier than they've ever been - changing diapers and stroking chubby cheeks and wiping our own tears of exhaustion. And then, somehow, the season will shift again and settle into something sweet and completely unimaginable to us right now. Madeleine L'Engle says that the nature of love is to create, and that rings so true - I'm ready for our love to expand outside of ourselves, to grasp these tiny new hands we've already created. And though a part of me longs to stay in this season with you forever, in the safety of just you and me, I know that true love means growing and stretching out our hands in surrender to what the Lord has for us next. And, hopefully, cupping them to catch all the joy and beauty that will follow.