My Joyful Mysteries, and A Revolution of Real

there’s plenty of time for her to be independent. 

…but there’s not time to miss this. 

There’s not enough time in world to not live for this. 

  
This. Is. The. Good. Stuff. 💗

after 10 months into this I continue to learn…

to grow.

to break. 

to heal. 

after 10 months of sharing my real, I’m still hearing yours…

you are the livers.

you are the survivors.

the givers.

you are the inspirers.

i am over the shallow empty small talk. 

i’m over wasteful words and gossip. 

i crave the real conversations. 

even when it’s hard to hear. 

even when it hurts.

because it’s real life. 

i crave eye contact…quality moments where people want to talk to me rather than look at a screen. 

i crave connection in words and spirit. 

i crave not just words, but actions. 

i crave life unfiltered. 

the kind of life where connections are made, and love is spoken…and hope is found in the cracks. 

I crave the moment when my friends living broken and battered, by the cruelty of a harsh and cold blunt winter of life- see Hope again. See that they are enough. That they always were enough. 

So to all of you who have walked through the real with me…thank you for your unfiltered real. 

You. Are. Enough. 

You always were.  

(You’ll see a jump in posts as I didn’t write on October 30 or 31. I didn’t have the words or the time to really come up with something to say. Life was real, and busy, and full…and maybe I just should have said that. I started this post on the 1st but finished on the 2nd due to my family taking precedence and a game of Monopoly deal.) 

Two of my heroes were born on the First of November.

The first one is the Man who I knew I was going to marry the moment I saw him. But true love is not always linear and our paths didn’t become one for a while. And I think God wanted it that way. It took a lot to bring us together…but the day he chose to not pursue a vocation in the priesthood and instead spend his life as a vocation with me- our lives have been tangled together. 

We…have a good life together. Not a perfect one, not a flawless one. His job is hard, and he works so hard to provide- and the climate of our world right now is scary. I worry about his safety every day. All these pressures lay heavy on our hearts.  Marriage is a constant evolving entity. We worked hard to stay connected. We work hard to be honoring in a world that promotes seperation, and division. We have created a family, and at the end of the day his hand is the one I search for under the covers. 

He is my best friend, and finds beauty in my broken. Even with my flaws and sags, he still chooses everyday to love Me. For Me. 

So maybe it’s no wonder our Daniel decided to come almost 3 weeks early on his Dad’s birthday. Our Daniel who was born in less than 2 hours. Our Daniel who was caught by his Grandmother because the Doctor wasn’t even at the table. Our Daniel who came into the world deliberately and fulling ready to live. 

His life has been bright burning fire. He is passionate and the faithful. Everything he does is with a resolve of absolute. He is articulate and inquisitive. He is not afraid to question or to confront. He is also incredibly sensitive and compassionate. He is so appreciative. And he abhors injustice…his biggest pet peeves are people who lack accountability and do not apologize. He is always the first to apologize. Sometimes as a parent,especially when he was smaller, the fiery passion was exhausting. He threw tantrums that left me in tears. But his fire is also what I love most about him. 

A couple weeks ago we were talking about if we were super heroes what our power would be…his friend said he’d want to have all the powers. And Daniel thought and thought, and said “I’d like the power to heal people. To take away their pain.”

That’s. My. Daniel. 

And he is my hero. He makes me want to be braver, and bolder. He makes me want to share my faith because of how much I love God, not because I’m so afraid of making people uncomfortable. Some days I spend so much time deciding…deciding what to write about- deciding how to speak-deciding to be More. But Daniel he knows that if you speak the truth, you are more than enough. 

So really God knew…their birthday, my two Heroes is a day where we honor the Saints and We Honor the Dead, and we look at all the people who have lived lives and who left their mark in someone’s life. 

And that death is not the end…because even after your life matters. 

My life was irrevocably changed the day I met my husband. He is my hero everyday. And our Son, leaves both of us, constantly and completely changed. He makes us want to be better, serve better. 

Life is hard. We all know that. 

But while we’re here…thank you God for my everyday Heroes. Those who live the truth and fight for justice. Those who love the truth and fight for others. 

Thank you God for Dyp and Daniel Francis. 

Maybe the being real, is also seeing the real…instead of focusing on just the hard stuff- it’s also relishing the good stuff. 

And capturing them, in the right here and right now. 

Tonight at her parent teacher conference the teacher said something we always have known, “Grace is the kind of person,  that people just want to be around.” 

Why? 

Because she loves life. She loves life in such a complete and all encompassing way. 

And it’s magic. This life full of Grace. 

May she never ever lose her sparkle.  

God gave us Grace…

When even technology shows your crazy…

  
 
Raising teenagers is not for the faint of heart. 

Today he and a friend were yelled at by people he didn’t know…

Today he asked for directions to a classroom and a kid swore at him…

Today a girl behind him in band told him he was “gross” because of the sports team he likes. 

…and that’s just the things he told me about. 

I freaking hate Middle School. 

I mean when I think of Middle Schools my kids are at the only one I would send them to…it’s a great school. 

But. 

I freaking hate Middle School. 

I hate seeing my kid, the most loving giving kid, the kid who accepts everyone, and loves them…cry. 

So we talked about it. And we talked about how sad it is that people feel the need to be mean to be cool- when it only makes the rest of us see who they really are- which is big fat doo doo baby dunderhead jerks. Which is exactly what I called them, because I am so mature. 

But that made him smile a little. And we talked about good things that happened through out the day, because he has good friends, and his brother, and teachers who care about him. 

This kid is amazing…not just because he is funny and athletic, a natural leader and kind. Not because he dances with his sister and is there for his brothers. Not because he is brave and strong, and not an iota of entitled. But because after he smiled he asked if we could pray for “those kids.”

So we did. 

We prayed for them. 

We prayed that they were loved at home, that they were safe, and fed mind, body, and spirit. 

And while we were praying. I looked at him. His eyes closed with tears still fresh on his cheeks and I asked myself again “Why Me Lord? How on earth could we ever have deserved this child? I am so unworthy to be his Mother.” 

And yet, I get to say “Amen” with him. 

We’ll survive Middle School. We will. 

And I know this…it’s not going to break him- this kid, he’s one in a million. Truly.

And he teaches me things every day.  

He is. Amazing. 

I wanna be just like him when I grow up. 

Today I witnessed a Vietnam Vet and a World War II Vet thank each other for their service in the frozen food aisle at Walmart. It was simple, and quick, but made my heart pound. 

I love Brave People. 

I love People who aren’t afraid to speak up, and to stand out. I’m not talking about protests, but the kind of people who go right to the heart of a matter. Who speak the truth, in their own lives, and are bold enough to be be brave when others pretend everything is okay. 

That’s why I have such respect for first responders, military, advocates, and people who exemplify bravery. 

Brave people are the heartbeat to society. 

We can’t exist without them. 

I have very little patience for those who want to change but talk in circles, who contradict, and who don’t do the right thing. I have little patience for agenda’s and dishonesty. 

I’m not the bravest person. I worry about what other people think of me. I think a lot before I speak. But recently God called on me to be brave. And it was scary and uncomfortable. I had to use my words. I had to use my voice. I had to be brave. And it scared the crap out of me. I even found myself discounting my words, downplaying myself, because I didn’t want people to think I was too hard and bold. 

But it was there. And I did it. I spoke my Brave. 

Today when I saw those Two Hero’s thank each other I saw something else in their exchange…there was absolutely no pride, just genuine gratitude for the other. 

Brave people know what the cost is…and they still do it. 

Brave people know what could be lost…and yet they are still there. 

Brave people know what Gratefulness costs. 

So tonight my prayer is we stop holding our breath, and we start listening to our heartbeat. Ba-bum, Ba-bum, Ba-bum…that’s your heartbeat. 

It’s capable of amazing things…including being Brave.

…to God be the glory. 

(This was written yesterday- but because I had pictures in the body of the post for some reason it wouldn’t upload. 18 hours later I deleted the pictures and put them at the bottom. And finally it will post.) 

I say it often. And I mean it with all my heart. 

Familia is Todo. 

Family is All. 

Today is the birthday of some of my favorites…

  
So…to my bonus Dad, who inherited me when he fell in love with my Mom. Who raised me, and taught me how to pray. Who loved me through the teen years. Who walked me down the aisle with my Dad, and who has taken always taken the time to tell me what I mean to him. You are strong and amazing, and always fill my life with joy. I love you Papa John. 

To my Father in Law Denny, who shares the same smiling eyes as my Love. Who laughs at the same jokes as his Son, and is the most generous and helpful person I know. Who is always the first to arrive and last to leave. When something good happens to Dyp, you are always the first person he wants to call. Knowing you are proud of him is so important, and he is so proud to be your son. 

  
To my Aunt and Godmother Clancy. Even though our time is always limited, I love every moment I’m with you. Your life and calm demeanor has always been an inspiration to me. You are kind and loving, and I hope my Boys stay close to me…like yours are to you. That is my prayer. Thank you for always praying for me. And the picture I chose didn’t even have me in it…but 80’s hair wins every time. 
  

To my goddaughter Madison…we prayed for you. From the moment we found out your Mom was pregnant, we prayed for you. For Health, and for a beautiful Life. Your life was already so valued and longed for. You came late, and were ornery and determined, and absolutely  beautiful. You are such a joy. You’ve never stopped amazing all of us, and you have a kind heart. And I love that about you. I pray you always know how God’s love for you. It is an honor to be your godmother.

  
It’s the season of Birthdays for our family, but it’s also been a reminder to me that I don’t tell people enough how much their lives have touched mine. We should never wait. 

 I tried to pick pictures for this post that I felt captured them all perfectly…so happy, and so loved. 

These four lives are a big huge part of my life. And they should know that. 

Such beautiful lives were born this day! ❤️

I’ve carried.

 I’ve held tight. 

I’ve been stretched. 

I’ve been pulled a million directions. 

I have been sore.

I’ve been turned inside out. 

I’ve been loved. 

I’ve been hated. 

I’ve been stared at. 

I’ve been scrutinized. 

I’ve worked. 

And I’ve rested. 

I’ve been bruised. 

I’ve sagged. 

I’ve been sunburned. 

I’m aging.

But I have been young. 

I wrinkle from too much water.

I sweat from too much heat. 

I’ve curled up and shook with grief. 

I’ve fallen back, and flailed on the ground with happiness. 

I’ve tensed from anger. 

I’ve relaxed from sleep. 

I have felt the heartbeat of another person growing inside of me. 

I have scars. 

I have lines and creases that identify me. 

I have curves.

I have angles. 

I have hollow places. 

I am smooth.

I am prickly. 

I am pierced.

I am plucked. 

I am full.

And tonight…

Tonight I stood under the hot water in the shower with my daughter. I washed her hair, and piled it with big soapy circles on the top of her head. I took my time rinsing through her hair as each strand was rinsed clean, as the shampoo rolled down her little girl shoulders…

And she placed her little hands with pink glitter polish on my stomach. She traced every stretch mark that lay across my belly, she held her cheek against my belly button. And then she sighed, “I love your tummy Mommy.” She said. “It is the perfect tummy for you. You are beautiful.” 

And I looked down, and for the first time in 30 years I loved my body. 

Not because it is perfect…but because it’s not. 

Not because it is young…but because it’s not. 

Every line, and crease, every wobbly bit, and every part that has been stretched and sagged has lived a full life. 

Today I loved my Body, not because I will wear a bikini or because I can post pictures of what I earned…but instead I loved my body because it tells a story. 

 Because it has history.

 Because it’s my story. 

Today I loved my Body, because it’s Mine. 

And it’s a part of my beautiful story. 

Today was a long day. 

Today was a hard day. 

And since I don’t ever get a day off…

I’m thankful for redo’s, tomorrow is a brand new day. 

I’m also thankful for retakes. So very thankful for retakes.