My Joyful Mysteries, and A Revolution of Real

The teenager had to do a small  science presentation about a plant. He picked the Rose. 

We bought Roses. 

We printed pictures of them. 

He researched them. 

I sang “Every Rose has its Thorn” by Poison to him. He listened diligently as I sang every necessary high and low note. 

He looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

At the end I turned to him and said, “I’m sorry you’re not as talented as me.”

And he replied, “I almost can’t handle it.” 

Then we laughed. We laugh a lot, the two of us, when we can because so much of the time I’m driving him places, checking his grades, quizzing him on things, listening about his days. I embarrass him a lot. At first I was saddened by it, but now I just keep going, because eventually he’ll realize the awesomeness I bring to the table. Eventually. 

As we studied Roses I learned a lot…they have been around a really really REALLY long time. They’ve found fossils in the U.S. that are said to be 35 million years old. Of Roses.

They are beautiful. 

And yet, they still have thorns. 

We all have thorns, and prickly parts to give us protection, and keep us from feeling too close to others. Lately the thorny parts of me have become more bold as I’ve had to work through some of my own stuff. Deal with my insecurities. My flaws.

 I was visiting with a good friend and told her how recently I’ve been in a tug of war with God and how much I let Him have. Because I want to keep some of my thorns because even though they hurt, I know them, they are a part of me. My insecurities have defined my relationships, and in that I have hurt friends by guarding myself with my own hedge of thorns. Even today I hurt a friend, by setting my hedge up just in case, and going about the wrong way of communicating. 

And I’ve done that with God. I feel like I’ve already put myself out there enough, that I’ve said enough…and it scares me. I don’t see the beauty of the roses. I just see the thorns. 

There are 4000 songs written about roses. 4000! There are 4000 reasons I’m not qualified to inspire anyone. Because I’ve been clinging so tight to the idea that God is going to change his mind about me. That he’s not going to keep working in me, because I keep pulling back on what I want to hold close. 

And the realization that I’m still incredibly uncertain about a lot of things. 

When I wrote Friday May 29 post the Holy Spirit was working and in a big way. But since, the reality of my words and the reality of my world has me running my hands over the thorns even though I know I should be willing to hand them off. They cut me and poke my heart, and still I cling. 

Because the next part of my real hasn’t been handed over yet. 

I spent years wishing I was different. If only I was less convicted about things. If only I could just bury things and forget about them. If only I didn’t think, feel, see so much. 

I want to help heal others hearts by speaking about God’s great love. I want to be a constant reminder what faith lived looks like…but I’m not holy enough. I’m not faithful enough. 

I’m just me. 

My friend who I talked about the tug of war with shared with me that the miraculous happens in two steps…the first is in obedience. And the second is in the mundane. 

Sometimes we want the Rose to bloom before it’s ready. Sometimes we want to God to move big before it’s time. But it won’t always be big and powerful- it may be small and ordinary. 

But it’s not any less important. Any less beautiful. 

And Beautiful lives take time to grow. 

Maybe today I’m only ready to face the thorns. Today I haven’t been able to see past the ways I have hurt, the ways I have failed, the ways I’ve been hurt, and the way I have held on instead of handing off to God. 

But there’s always more. 

I learned in hearing my son talk about Roses that the history of them goes so much deeper than a mere flower. 

Roses are a celebration of Love. 

Love is a powerful thing.

It brings out the best and it brings out the human in us. And only one love is perfect, the rest has thorns. 

What a powerful image to know my God had a crown of thorns placed on his head. 

The human error of us, and sinful places dug, hurt, and damaged, placed directly on Him.

And He is still the most perfect example of love. 

Beautiful takes time to grow, were the words I received in pray today as I held tight to my thorns. Letting go won’t be easy, but neither is living a life being afraid. Because that’s what has consumed me the past days…fear. It is real and I realized I will never bloom if I rest in that. 

I need to rest in Him. And not be afraid. 

To say the wrong thing. To be judged. To not be enough. Of the future. Because those fears are valid but that doesn’t mean they are the only truth in our life. 

Roses are resilient. 

Because they are tough.

Because they have thorns. But they still grow. Up toward the only Truth I need watch bloom over and over again. 

Miraculous happens in obedience and the mundane…but it happens. Eventually. 

From the roots, to the thorns, to the bloom. 

And I may not see the beauty of what the revolution of real can become but I hope to. Eventually. 

But I just don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it…but I’m willing to try. 

To God be the Glory.   

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you…” Jeremiah 1:5 

When she was a baby she slept in the crook of my arm. For her first six months she lay perfectly still in the little place close to my heart. Still to this day- when she crawls into our bed- she and I assume that position more often than not. 

This morning she woke up and just wanted me. We watched a Barbie show. She colored and talked to me while I cleaned the kitchen. She helped me fold laundry, and I helped her pick out her clothes. When I dropped her off at school- she hugged me tightly, and came to the door and waved to me three times. 

Today when I picked up the middle schoolers, my friend and I parked next to each other because I had her daughter. Grace’s little friend, her youngest daughter said hi to to Grace through the door. As my friend and I chatted, Grace climbed into their car with their daughter.  She does this often, but she usually tells me. Today she did not.

When kids were all seated, I started my car. And suddenly their car door flew open and my daughter popped out. I got her in and buckled and told her that she cannot ever get out of the car unless she has let me know. 

She nodded, but didn’t say a word. 

I dropped off the middle schoolers and carpool kids.

As soon as they were out- the flood gates burst.

“I thought you were going to leave me…” 

“I was so scared!!!!”

“I’m soooo sorry Mommy!!!!” 

“Don’t ever leave me!!!” 

She sobbed so much I parked and she climbed into my arms. Her heart was pounding as she cried big tears, and I got choked up too- because the second I saw that door open my heart dropped. She wasn’t with me. And from her tears I know it was the first moment she thought I forgot her. That I would leave her. 

I held her against me- leaned into the place she has always rested. And she immediately calmed. 

When a child is a newborn- their mothers heartbeat regulates theirs outside the womb. That feeling of baby on Mama’s Chest regulates and brings their heart beat in-sync.

My beautiful Grace and I never had to learn that. We just knew. 

I remember when she got her first kidney infection and had a 105 fever at 6 months, and we lay in the doctor office as they ran tests.  I cried, because she was too weak to cry. But she just stared at me and knew I wouldn’t leave her. For years with every test and every infection, and every excruciating procedure…she would hold my hand and watch my eyes. 

And then after I would hold her, and together our heart beats would regulate. And we’d begin to breathe again. 

We often joked when she was little if she could she’d crawl back into my womb, she has always been all about me. She studies my face, my clothes. She traces the veins on my hands. She wants to be just like me, she says. 

Somedays she exhausts me because she is so full of Life, and feels so much, and everything in her world is so big. But most days she reminds me that life is such a gift. She knows that. She has never doubted that her life is a gift.

She lives it to the fullest. She makes every experience count.

She regulates my heartbeat. 

She reminds me with her insatiable laughter and twinkling eyes. The way she prank calls her dad and my sister, and pretends she’s someone else and then turns to me and says “they have NO idea.” How she wears her heart on her sleeve along with layers of lip gloss and brings fancy into everything. She is covered in glitter and a layer of dirt or whatever else she finds exciting that day.  How she annoys her brothers and the next minute they can’t stop laughing. 

She has been off her meds for one year, and has been without an outbreak kidney infection in 20 months. That is a gift. 

And so is she.

God gave us a Grace- because we had no idea how much one little girl could bring such light into our lives. But she does… every. single. day. 
I dread first grade next year. I dread sharing her all day. But I know that whoever she meets is touched by her sparkle. She brings light to this world. 

Today we cried together. But it was a lesson for her. And for me. 

There’s plenty of time left for her to grow up. But she’ll always need me. And always needs to know I will never leave. 

God gave us Grace, because God knew what He was doing…we needed her. 

And He will never leave us, and has known us since we were born. 

What a gift to know how precious your life every single day. What a gift to live each day to the fullest. 

What a gift our Grace is. 

My favorite little heartbeat.  

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…I want to be just like her. 

Wearing our matching Aprons from my friend Renee. ❤️

“When they saw Him, they worshiped, but they doubted.” Matthew 28:17 

Never fails. 

Yesterday was a good day. 

In fact it was a great day. 

But it has been followed by a day everything I’ve been doing wrong, everyway I’ve failed, every single flaw and misstep I’ve taken weighs heavy on my heart.

I feel lonely. Unappreciated. Sad.

Today at church these words were read and seared right into my heart. 

“When they saw Him, they worshiped, but they doubted.” 

How often do I worship and love a loving faithful God, but doubt Him? Doubt His love and grace.

I try not to feel entitled. 

I try not to expect good to be a given just because I try. 

But I haven’t always tried hard enough. 

I haven’t always loved enough. 

I’ve made mistakes and I many times doubt God’s Faithfulness in my life. 

In times of grief. In times of great sorrow. In every facet of my life that is a tiny blip in the universe. My life is such a small part of the world. 

Isnt that crazy? It’s crazy- if you look and see what He has done in me. 

Why would I ever doubt? 

Because this world- this world is full of lies. And I’ve bought them, and worn them. I’ve read the articles and saved the info…and believed. 

And doubted. 

My God. My Jesus. The Spirit. 

I’ve doubted the Truth. 

Even though I write about it. 

I believe it, yet I doubt His steadfastness.

The moral of today…I have a lot of work to do. 

And doubting His will, and this path of real isn’t one of them. 

To God be the Glory.  

One of the things my two oldest boys excel at is good old fashioned smack talking- they know how to bring it, whether it’s when  playing cards, or playing bump in the back yard. It’s always funny and in good fun. 

They get it from their Dad. He is a quick witted smack talker, and is a poor loser, but an even worse winner. He will smack talk until the day is done. 

Grace can bring it too- and can never keep a straight face. And her threats are more like “I’m gonna hug you Jonah!” 

And then there’s our Micah. 

Who cannot successfully smack talk. At all. 

And it. Is. Awesome. 

For instance he’ll say, 

“I’m going to beat you so bad…maybe.” 

“You are going Down…probably.” 

“Oooh I’ll OWN you, unless I don’t.” 

Seriously, makes my day. I love that each of my kids are so amazing and different, and fill my days with such joy and laughter. 

Today was a four baseball game day.

The sun was shining. I applied sunscreen once, but should have applied it twice. 

I am burned. Vitamin D happy. And exhausted. I even got a pedicure from a cute little Gracie Girl and got “fancy French tips.” 

It was a day of great wins, and one really hard loss…and we came home.

As a family together. 

Because as different as my kids are, we are a team. They are my favorite team. 

So maybe this is not my most profound post- but I’m not trying to win anything. I just want want to see my kids living the life they love, being who they are, loving well- and when they win or lose- I will be just as happy for them, as long as they live.

So, here’s to long days of spring, feeling like summer. Here’s to doing what we love, and loving well. Here’s to good old fashioned smack talking…maybe. 

Here’s to love love loving the life we’ve been given to the fullest. Here’s to my favorite team- my family. 

usually on Friday I have a guest writer. I always trust God to take care of it. People typically come to me, unless I’m prompted through prayer. But this week- it didn’t happen, and that’s ok because words have been building in me for about a month. I have four posts that I’ve been plugging away on, but The Holy Spirit always stops me…until today. I was just vacuuming my floor, and the words began to flood and piece together- I was going to just use a funny quote that happened recently- but nope, when the Spirit speaks it’s in all bold to me. My friend Amanda has seen it happen and it is crazy. So here I am. 

Welcome to the Revolution…

“Oh my Gawd Becky, look at her blog. I mean she has a blog. I mean they’ll just let anyone write these days! She is so….” 

Recently I found something from my childhood that said what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wanted to be a writer then. I want to write the truth now. Being told by God you’ll write daily for a year is a daunting experience- because who wants to read my thoughts for a year. But as the year has unfolded- I’ve realized that I have never been in control. In fact when I said Yes, I started giving God the glory, and started having my life flip-turned upside down.  I haven’t had publishers knocking on my door- because to finish a book you actually have to have a computer that works consistently apparently. And I haven’t felt all fuzzy and good about myself. In fact a lot of nights I think…what the heck was I writing?! What are people going to think of me God? 

In fact many people think because they read my blog they know the whole story of my life, but nope. See, I save a lot of my real for safe people, and I have some good people who are safe. And unfortunately there are a lot of people who aren’t. And when people tell me something I’m a vault- someone else’s real is not my real to tell. So it’s no wonder that when I hear I’m gossiped about I wonder why whoever it is- didn’t just talk to me? It makes me sad, because instantly I know they are not safe. I will never trust them. Because our lives aren’t always cut and dry- many times there are many layers, and reasons, and things that make us who we are. But I know what I want to be for someone else- safe. 

Real. True. Faithful. 

You see that’s why Friday became a part of this revolution of Real- because people want to share their real. They want to share their joy, and their pain, and the reason they live. 

And their real is Important. 

And that means you won’t always read something that’s fuzzy and nice- you may read something that will make you angry and sad. You will feel something. Because life isn’t always about how many people like us, or think we are a really great person. Because if we don’t act like a really great person behind our computer or behind closed doors..we are living a lie. 

And sometimes what is written will piss you off. Like when I say “Stop talking about your body in front of your kids. Stop fasting and using God as an excuse to be unhealthy. Stop being a mean person. Stop shaming new moms, or old moms, or moms in general. Stop judging people who’ve gotten divorced.  Stop rationalizing shirts with Wolves on them.”

I knew this on January first. But it was hard because I realized that as I heard the mean things being said over the past months, when the whole picture wasn’t out there- when perspective wasn’t even accounted for- It stung. It hurts. But it doesn’t mean that God isn’t working. Or that We aren’t learning, and feeling. 

One of the most amazing freedoms I’ve been give this year is not needing the accolades of temporary love. I have realized who my people are. I have realized that they are safe and know me. I don’t want superficial friends. Or temporary friends. I want Real friends. 

I once told my tribe girls that I couldn’t get together because I wasn’t feeling funny or happy and one of them said ” We don’t love you because you’re funny. We love every part of your personality. You don’t have be anyone else.”  

It was incredible. I didn’t realize that I have spent years years imprisoning myself if I didn’t act the part. If I wasn’t  strong. 

Imprisoned by an internal real.

don’t inconvenience anyone Kristin. 

crying is a sign of weakness. Stop crying. 

why would anyone want to read words from you? You’re ugly. You’re fat. 

it’s your fault. 

Get. Over. It. 

All my own words. And then God said, 

“Okay…let’s start this revolution, you’re already cracked- and while you put your life and words back together- I’ll make you really uncomfortable and make you face stuff.” 

Stuff like asking for help-like getting my kids rides. 

Something I have never done.  

Stuff like letting me take the fall, and the meanness for doing the right thing. 

Something I will always do  and never regret but still is stuff. 

Stuff like writing my real. On days where all I want to do is hide…And not be exposed. On days where I wish God would give me another child and instead all I’ve gotten was asked if I was pregnant. On days where I realized that the work out pants I’m wearing- were the victim of my sleepwalking child who pees on things that he thinks are the toilet but are instead the folded Laundry bin. The days I still feel like I’m in high school where I’m sort of a freak, but am scared that people won’t like me anymore if they see who I want to be. The days I am convinced I am failing as a wife. As a mother. 

There will always be those days. 

But God didn’t call us to stop on those days- he called us to live in bold on those days. Not for our glory- for his. 

Today as I vacuumed I was completely over come with gratefulness- for those who have joined this revolution. For those who have prayed with me. For the love of my life for marrying me. And for those who have taken this cracked version of me and loved me so completely…

Thank you for being safe even when my real has been hanging all out there. 

Thank you God for freedom- in words, in healing, and in redefining life on your terms. 

Live Boldly. 

To God be the Glory.  

“If you dream of me, as I’ve dreamed of you. In a place that’s warm and dark. In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart.” 

10 years. 

10 years is a long time. But I still remember everything. 

And the days before I feel it building. The grief, the sadness, the absolute powerlessness I feel that I don’t get to raise all my children. 

I don’t regret the life I have. I love my life. But there is still a place that holds her. Always. 

My life is busy. Today is busy and filled to the brim stretching me, and there won’t be a lot of time to stop. I even started my day pretending today was just another day- so that tonight I could hold her blanket that held her, so I could cry after everyone was sleeping. 

But. I. Can’t. 

I couldn’t. 

My friend Renee called and listened as I cried on the phone. She listened to me cry, and was so kind. I am so blessed by my friends. All your texts so far- thank you. 

“I’ve longed for you. And I have desired…to see your face, your smile. To be with you wherever you are.” 

This. Is. My. Real. 

I know I am blessed. I know that. I get to celebrate four amazing children everyday- in their smiles, in their laughter, and in their beautiful existence. 

But I only get one day for her. Kind of two, because of her due date. Only one other person in the world remembers that day. 

I only get one. 

One day.

Yes, I know I get many days to miss her. 

But I only get one day that’s all hers. Because I can’t rest in grief. Resting in grief stops you from seeing life.  Because we are called to more…

“Together again…it will feel so good to be. In your arms- where all my journeys end. If you can make a promise, if it’s one that you can keep. I vow to come for you. If you wait for me.” 

God is good. 

He has healed and restored me in ways I could have never imagined on this day ten years ago. But he has let me keep a Mary sized place- and I know, someday, I will get to see her smile. I know. Someday my journey will end here…and there she will be. 

My. Girl. 

Wherever you are today…I ask you to love in big and mighty ways. I ask you to appreciate those who you are so blessed to see smile and love. Love. Them. So. Much. 

Love. Them. 

You are so blessed to have them. 

My God, today give her a 10th birthday party filled to the brim with so much joy. Thank you for giving me her. Thank you for loving her. And thank you for letting me keep a part of her in my heart always. 

May 28. Mary’s Day. 

  
*the Promise by Tracy Chapman used in the quotes. It is our song for our first daughter. Here is the link to it. 

(I hope you’ll forgive me for posting so late but we just got home from the teenagers first game of the play offs for baseball. He didn’t make it through much of the game between allergies and dehydration he had to sit out. But his team delivered and won And he is home, showered, hydrated and excited to play again. And I’m not allowed to wash his uniform.) 

No Filter Wednesday…

Today your real came with Lyrics to describe where you were…that’s what I love about songs. There is a song that describes every mood and everyday. Thank you as always for sharing for your life Unfiltered every Wednesday. 
   

 “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” 

  “I like my women just a little on the trashy side.”  

 “lovely Starbucks Lovers.” Yeah I don’t care what you say. Those are the lyrics she meant to write.  

I’m realizing that living life unfiltered is so much more vulnerable than I ever imagined. I don’t mean that we should say everything that comes to our head, or be impulsively selfish or self righteous. Because compassion and truth should be said intentionally. And a lot of time it’s uncomfortable. But God doesn’t call us to live a comfortable life- he calls us to live a life of purpose. And I only have one…I want nothing more than to know Christ and be found in Him.(Philippians 3:9-10). 

It’s not comfortable. In fact I’ve never felt more exposed, more judged, or more brave. But I’m not alone. Your real inspires me everyday. You are a blessing. 

“Thank you. Thank you…thank God for you…” 

the key to the success of my marriage is communication…

“I’d rather be remembered by a song than by  a victory.” -Alexander Smith 
To those who lived, and lost. 
To those who loved, and fought wars so we could live in a country where we can drive to a church we choose, and complain about the government openly, and have kids and give them dreams. 

To those, who never got to be welcomed home, or to see their children grow. 

I remember you. 

You are the reason our country is great. You are. Thank you. 

And to your families- my love and prayers go to you today.  

And to my two heroes Louis Zamperini- who passed away this past August. And Cardinal Francis George who passed in April. You amazing and good fighters of freedom and livers of life are remembered today with great love and respect and honor from me. I have a big kiss for you both when I get to Heaven. 

  
I am grateful. I remember. 

10 A wife of noble character who can find?

    She is worth far more than rubies.

11 Her husband has full confidence in her

    and lacks nothing of value.

12 She brings him good, not harm,

    all the days of her life.

13 She selects wool and flax

    and works with eager hands.

14 She is like the merchant ships,

    bringing her food from afar.

15 She gets up while it is still night;

    she provides food for her family

    and portions for her female servants.

16 She considers a field and buys it;

    out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.

17 She sets about her work vigorously;

    her arms are strong for her tasks.

18 She sees that her trading is profitable,

    and her lamp does not go out at night.

19 In her hand she holds the distaff

    and grasps the spindle with her fingers.

20 She opens her arms to the poor

    and extends her hands to the needy.

21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household;

    for all of them are clothed in scarlet.

22 She makes coverings for her bed;

    she is clothed in fine linen and purple.

23 Her husband is respected at the city gate,

    where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.

24 She makes linen garments and sells them,

    and supplies the merchants with sashes.

25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;

    she can laugh at the days to come.

26 She speaks with wisdom,

    and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

27 She watches over the affairs of her household

    and does not eat the bread of idleness.

28 Her children arise and call her blessed;

    her husband also, and he praises her:

29 “Many women do noble things,

    but you surpass them all.”

30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;

    but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

31 Honor her for all that her hands have done,

    and let her works bring her praise at the city gate. -proverbs 31: 10-31 

Dear Woman in Proverbs,

We read about you and I think- seriously I want to be like you. I want my children to rise up and call me blessed.

But could you set the bar any higher? 

Today I woke up and got my family ready for the early mass at church. I had to listen to one of my kids complain and tell another one, “No, we do not wear sweats” and remind another one that wearing day old underwear DOESN’T count, and “No, you can not go commando.” I fought with my daughter as she wouldn’t let me brush her hair. I threw on the clothes I wore yesterday. And didn’t get to shower…again.

I was the last one out of the door until I noticed one of my kids hadn’t brushed their teeth. Through gritted teeth, I told them to get back inside. 

We were  little rumbled, and not ironed, but we went. 

And I put on make up while we drove to church. 

And I had forgotten to brush my teeth after coffee. 

I didn’t speak with wisdom as I whispered in my child’s ear that “No, we do not sit that way. No, we do not sleep. No, we do not slouch. Please stop putting your mouth on that. Please look up. Stop squeezing his hand so tight…” 

I tried to pray, but every time I closed my eyes my daughter was spinning, or pulling, or going through my purse. She took a tampon a part. So there, Proverbs lady…faithful instruction was not my strong suit during church. 

My husband had to go into work today. It was supposed to be his day off. We got home and I began laundry and cleaning…and started to change sheets. And made our family chore list- and gave them a time limit of play until we did chores.

I wrote down our meals for the week. I put our dinner in the crockpot. And I did not eat the bread of idleness, because I’m not really a bread person anyway. I did not sit down.

The timer went off. 

And I reminded them it was time to do stuff. The teenager started right away. But one did not. And then another complained. 

And I should have been kind. I should have taken a deep breath. 

But instead I lost it. Like full on yelling. I was not clothed with strength and dignity. I was clothed with impatience and mommy-rage. And I may have just started throwing things away. And I used the word shit, twice. Maybe three times. 

But here’s the thing. Instantly things changed. All of them started working. It was if they needed a little “oh crap she’s losing it” call from reality. 

When their Dad works a lot, I work a lot. And when they are busy, I am busy. And seriously…I sometimes want to feel appreciated. And just have people work with a happy heart. 

In those moments I didn’t find a lot of worth in anything I did. I yelled. I wasn’t patient. And even when I cleaned for hours my house was a total mess. 

But I remembered as I put away another load of towels that I fear not doing Gods will. I don’t need the spotlight. I just need his plan.

I am not the perfect wife. But I love my husband. I still day dream about him, and I wish I was better at the house keeping, organization, budgeting part. I haven’t been perfect- and he works harder than any person I’ve ever met. I’m not always grateful when he comes home and I’ve been dealing with boy hormones and  Grace refuses to take off my boots. But I love him.  And I am hopelessly devoted to him on the good and bad days. 

I am not clothed in linen.  I am clothed in workout clothes. At home I wear my 20 year old ripped up sweatshirt my dad gave me. With my Irish Pajama pants. I wear chipped nail polish my daughter put on me. And I don’t look good in purple. But I will give and give and give to those who need love. 

My lamp doesn’t go out at night because I have to wash baseball pants, and he got a call out, and I can’t go to bed with a messy kitchen or front room…and a friend needs prayer. 

I still haven’t showered. 

But I love.

I love them. My family. Earlier they wouldn’t have called me blessed. Crazy. A little Mean. But not blessed. But the amazing thing is that after the chores were mostly finished and I realized that while I think you are super amazing Proverbs wife,  your shoes are bigger than mine. If you asked my kids later if I loved them- I know what they’d say. They’d say “without a doubt.” Because I do. 

I lost it. But their rooms are clean. And we had a great day. 

We laughed a lot. We always do. 

I’m not perfect. 

I’m not the perfect mother. 

Not the perfect wife. 

But I am blessed. Not because of what I do- but because of who God is- and because of who I love. Because of them I will work and strive to bring honor to my family. To bring honor by my hands, my words, my life. 

Even if I do say shit. 

As long as I’m bringing my Praise and Glory to the only One who deserves it, I think my character flaws just add a little something extra. 

The joy of the Lord is strength,

Kristin