I love January (really)—new beginnings, fresh slates, organizing, purging, realigning.

I love Jackson—grandchild #10. Intelligent, athletic, diligent and, of course, cute as can be.

I love jumping, or at least watching kids jump—jumping rope, jumping in puddles, jumping on the trampoline in my back yard.

I love living in Jersey—an hour or less from mountains, farms, “the shore,” or mid-Manhattan.

I love watching jets soar over our house, sleek & silver against the blue sky, headed for Stewart International Airport.

I love juicy apples, pulp-filled orange juice, and fresh lemon juice squeezed into my water.

I love jiggling laughter, sparkling jewels, happy jonquils, and clever jokes.

I love Jean and Jone; Jan, Janis, Janice, and Janet; Julie, Joy, and Joyce—women whose friendships I have treasured over time.

I love Jello, not jelly; jigsaw puzzles (500-piece, not 1000, please); and beautiful Japanese Maples, jewels of red on the landscape.

I love journals and journaling and jotting down dreams and ideas.

I love joy that’s deep and satisfying, contentment in my heart—and daughters Stacey Joy and Bethany Joy.

I love justice—what is right, fair, impartial, righteous. And though I struggle to find it here, I am abundantly thankful that God is just and will one day bring perfect justice—which brings me to the best J.

I love Jesus. I love being loved by Him, cherished, protected, and justified. I love that He is lofty and personal, good and just, knowing and wise, steadfast and faithful. I love His loving care and radical generosity—in fact, everything I value is a gift from Him.

Image by Gerhard Gellinger from Pixabay