Wheeling Gull Isle His eye is on the sparrow

The time had come.

Everett rose through the lavender fields as the sun crested the sea, and dawn spilled over the island in warm, golden hues. The waking hours, the morning of a new day and a new life, for the youngest Sweetharbor brood.

He did not have every thought set in stone but he had the compulsion to go. Go, in that same familiar press upon his heart, the same that had led him here. God was with him, and would be with him, even in this seemingly small and infinitesimal task.

He saw no things too small for Him, Everett was beginning to learn. He cared for every detail. Be with me now, though Everett knew He was, and so corrected himself, help me trust that You are. Following Him was different than following the fire and the rain. Invisible: but He made Himself known in uncountable ways every day he spent on the island, and even long before.

Everett didn’t know what the children would believe when they were grown, but he prayed that they — all of them, elder and younger — might know God, too.

When he reached the den, he poked his head into the entrance where the family lay sleeping. @Heda, he whispered, I have chosen their names.

also tagging @Anathema @Saint @Hierophant @Accipitra come get your new names! And @Caracal @Dinah @Simeon @Judah @Malakai , not sure who wants to get in on the thread, and apologies that this was so long coming! We could do this in rounds, if you’d like? Just let me know <3