My boys have an insatiable appetite for drawing.
Their hands, marked and bruised with ink, itch to hold crayon and pen and marker.
Their desire is unstoppable.
The mounds of paper flood our dining room, overflowing onto floors and benches and tables and chairs.
It is a natural disaster of creativity.
What joy -- to do what you love and love what you do . . .
to know your calling and live it out . . .
to not let teeth brushing or mealtime or school or playtime interfere with what you're gifted to do.
It is amazing.
And a delight to behold.
More paper, please!
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