And while I think it's okay - and certainly better than hating everything - I think sometimes my overuse of love dilutes the word a little.
I love Jesus.
I love my family.
I love my Catwalk Root Boost Spray.
I love fresh, clean sheets.
I love the diet Pepsi at Butch's (a local drive-in burger place).
I love the crunchy ice that comes in the diet Pepsi at Butch's.
See what I mean?
Do I love crunchy ice as much as I love Jesus? No.
But I love what this picture represents.
Caleb and my nephew Evan, playing with the hose...on a crazy, windy evening...being boys...having fun.
It's that level of comfort, of knowing each other and just being goofy boys together that I love. For six years, it would take at least the first half of our visit to get there.
It hasn't been easy to come back to my hometown...to live with my parents*...to live these past four months without a job or really an income...to not know what the future holds...but little moments like this make it worth it.
And I love that too.
Disclaimer: I really don't intend to infer that living with my parents has been difficult (because most of the time it's pretty easy), but it can be a struggle to live in a home that isn't yours.