be on guard.
stand true to what you believe.
be courageous.
be strong.
and everything you must do,
must be in Love.
– 1 Corinthians 16: 13- 14
This year. These posts. Real.
Truth.
To God be the Glory.
(Joyful mysteries Notes: I feel blessed to work with someone as compassionate as April, but am even more blessed to call her friend. She is honest and kind, insightful and strikingly beautiful inside and out. She is real- and has spent the past few years redefining her self- some by choice and most because she lost her best friend and Mom this past year. Everyday I wish her Mom was still here with her…she was always so proud, but now she would be overcome with awe at the beautiful and amazing life that April is building. She is truly her mothers daughter and keeps her right there with her every single day. Thank you April for sharing your real.)
It’s been almost seven months. It’s been hard. It’s been sad. I’ve been really sad. I have had my worst days since Mom has passed away. I’ve also had some amazing days. Mom would have wanted that for me. I was reminded by a friend recently to not focus on the length of time she has been gone but on the amount of time I had with her here. I was by her side for the best years of BOTH of our lives. But it’s hard. It’s hard not to think about the last things we said to each other or the times I could have spent with her and didn’t. I miss her every second of every day, but the pain will ease. The memories will continue to flow through my mind, and the love will never ever ease.
I love you Mom, more than you’ll ever know.
My Mom was far from a girly girl, and I take after her in so many ways when it comes to being fancy. She was a jeans and t-shirt sorta gal. Rarely did Mom wear a dress or a skirt, and never wore heels(tall girl complex). And she taught me I don’t have to be all “made up” for people to notice me that my light will shine through. Kindness and Happiness will draw people in. And she was right. I know that. She couldn’t go anywhere without seeing someone she knew and strangers would just want to talk to her. Her light shined out to everyone. If I can just keep a piece of that, I know I will never feel alone. I guess you could say we were the girls with the “good personality and sense of humor.”
I love you Mom, more than you’ll ever know.
Mom and I always had a freaking blast together, wherever we were and no matter what we did. We always kept each other laughing. It was one of my favorite things. Over the last few years I didn’t laugh a lot. In fact I didn’t remember what it felt like to laugh. What it sounded like. She brought me out of some really dark times, by just lifting my spirits. She could always talk me off a ledge. Now that she isn’t here I have to keep the memory of her laughter nearby to keep me “up.” I rely on that. I know exactly what she’d say if I started to lose it. I can hear her tell me what to do when I am lost. I miss being silly with her. I miss laughing with her. I just miss her.
I love you Mom, more than you’ll ever know.
I was sitting in my stylists chair and looking at myself in the Mirror. All I could see was her. I see her in my family. I see her in my son. My mom. Her eyes are looking back at me. I have her look. I’ve said it before, but now I see it all the time. Now that she’s gone- I keep seeing her. I see her in me. It’s heart warming and heart breaking all at the same time. I miss her.
“I love you.”
“I love you More.”
“More than what?”
“More than you’ll ever know.”
I love you Mom, more than you’ll ever know.
I am raising four very different souls. Individuals. All are unique with different talents. Each becoming their own person…paving their own way. We raise with consistency and love as the forefront- and go from there. Because each child has been so different, some times we have to consider the child- and what is best for them.
Sometimes that’s easier said than done.
Each year the second grade at our school goes on a school trip out of town. They go to a small town an hour north where the kids get to use their bilingual skills. Because our school is Spanish immersion and they only get to speak Spanish in class- it gives them such a boost to see their growth in action. But unfortunately one of the downsides of not having family around and in this busy season, my second graders Dad had to work- and his sister only had half day, I have the other kids to pick up, and so we weren’t going to be able to go. We talked to him. We had him set up with a good friends group. We talked about how great his day would be.
But he started getting ill from worry and having so much anxiety- that he was crying himself to sleep. He’s not a crier. So we talked, and we considered him. Who he is.
Our child. It was hard at first to decide that he just wasn’t going to go. But we came up with a different plan. We could have a field trip in town here. He could use his skills and his sister could be there, and he could feel safe. Because that’s what it finally came down to– he didn’t feel safe being away from us. He has plenty of time in life to learn about being brave, but in this case we went rogue.
And it was hard having to tell people. Because I worry about what people think. But then, really, it’s not about what anyone thinks. It’s about my son…so here was our Day.
We Went to a local Marketa and Micah talked to them about pan(bread) and carniceria they had. We saw cow tongue, which was super cool. He was articulate and asked if they made their bread locally. We learned they didn’t and bought it from Salem Oregon.
We did not eat in the store or comer en la tienda. We are good readers and were on task.
And his sister went along in the store and enjoyed the 2 layered jello. Because in her words “sugar is my life.”
We talked to a Police Officer who is bilingual. Micah asked him about what he did in espanol(of course), and because he is a supervisor he talked about keeping the people that work for him safe. Micah said later he didn’t listen to anything he said, because it was his first question and he was so nervous. But we are so appreciative of all our policia! Thank you Sgt. Williams!
We went and got a book in Spanish. And read it. Micah chose the Spanish version of “Heaven is for Real” or “El Cielo es Real” by Todd and Colton Burpo. It’s one of our favorites.
We went to one of my meetings that is at a State office- a lot of my members are bilingual and they talked to him- and were so impressed by his language and how articulate he was. I was impressed by how hard he was trying to not be shy.
And we went to lunch. And he ordered in Spanish. And ordered for me as well. And he talked to the server and asked for strips de pollo(chicken strips) and we all giggled.
It was relaxed and low key, the perfect day for him.
In fact in his words:
“it was one of my favorite days this year.”
Lately I’ve noticed how impatient I’ve been and how over scheduled we are- I notice that I’m exhausted and some days don’t have a lot extra to give. But today was a day where we didn’t rush, and we enjoyed our time, and it was one of my favorite days as well.
One of my oldest friends Kati taught me the term years ago “mi cielito Lindo” or “my pretty little heaven” and today was one of those days…I spent my day with a little piece of heaven, my Micah. His life will be filled with a lot of have to’s and requirements- So I’m thankful for today. And for him.
Always for him.
Ps. Happy birthday to TWO of my godchildren Maya and Nathaniel. I love you both so much.
“I think every good conversation should start out with, remember that one time on SpongeBob?” -curly age 8
I loved the real pictures sent in today…because they were of people doing what was best for their families. This is how we were spending our time.
Catching an early Flight to make it to a family graduation.
Up all night nursing and pumping, and exhausted and dehydrated to help a beautiful boy to grow.
And me sitting in the pouring rain at a baseball game…(aren’t you shocked?) And we came back and almost tied…and it was SO close.
You see..I could go into so many things…the ump was making calls but only against us( we are used to bad calls on both sides, because they aren’t perfect). It was raining. We came back from losing and were close. One run close. And then it was over. My son blamed himself, but we talked all the way home…and he remember it’s a game.
So that’s what matters. He had fun. He played in the rain. He plays with awesome people- who cheer for him. And have his back. And even then it sometimes doesn’t turn out the way we wanted it to.
But we try. We try hard.
Today my filter came off. I have a very hard time with lack of sincerity. And tact. And I am fiercely loyal. Today I used my words unfiltered and clearly. Because sometimes there is not enough time to undo damage that’s been done…time heals but it doesn’t change the outcome.
And not every one gets that.
Just like in a game. The score is the score.
What’s done is done.
My time and season has been jam packed and I wish I could say that I have used my time wisely. I think I have but not always…
But this I know…
I will sit in the pouring rain and cheer the people I love on.
I will fight for my family, friends, and my tribe.
And my time will always be looking at the way to live the truth. My intentions will always be to give God the glory and speak the truth.
No filters. Just time fully lived.
All of us, gazing on the Lord’s glory with unveiled faces, are being transformed from glory to glory into his very image by the Lord who is the Spirit. 2 Corinthians 3:18
I used to stare at the blue sky as my legs dangled on the swing and then I would jump and begin to pump my legs.
As I would reach my toes up and lean my head back, my hair streaming behind me- and I would reach farther and farther.
In those moments I felt like I was so high I could almost touch heaven.
I was just that much closer to God.
And then life happened…
And it hurt me. And blessed me.
And God loved me, but it was different than I imagined in those moments- swinging higher and higher trying to touch heaven.
Trying to reach him.
Because I didn’t have to do anything, except call on him…
And there He is.
Today. May 19.
I don’t have answers.
I don’t like bad news.
I hate seeing those I love suffer.
And I don’t understand it all.
So I turn my face to God and I set my eyes on him…and hand him my words and my thoughts, my worries and my sorrows. I hand him my prayers and it hurts to say them out loud, because it makes them more real.
And sometimes real is the hardest part of life.
My gaze rests on you my God, the God of Miracles…the God of Hope…and the God of Glory.
I don’t understand…so I hand them to you.
Tonight I lay those I love, and their intentions to you…I hand you the realness…and I trust you.
Because you love them far more than me.
Oh how you love.
More than I ever could.
More than I ever will.
i trust you…
Who sees my words swinging back and forth, tumbling over each other as I reach and whisper them towards you. You, know my heart. You are the God of blue skies, and Heaven. You are the God of sky gazers. I swing to you.
I. Trust. You.
Last month he took naps. He never does that.
He ate, and then ate again. And was still hungry.
At night he would complain that his body hurt.
And would be so so tired.
And then I noticed, yesterday at church as he stood next to me- that when he hugged me he seemed to look at me eye to eye. And I knew.
You see, we’ve been busy. Really busy. Like 14 games in 7 days busy.
And I didn’t see.
Until I did.
And there it was. There he was. The teenager. As tall as me.
One month. One inch.
So today I took extra time to look and see each of my kids. The extra freckles on Daniel’s nose that have just appeared. The loose tooth in Micah’s smile. The bangs hanging in Grace’s eyes. And leaned my head on Jonah’s shoulder, who is just as tall as me.
Life is busy. This season is busy. But I need to stop and look at them. Remember them in these moments.
They are so precious. And so brief. And so beautiful and a little painful.
This.
It’s a blessing and honor to be right here in the middle of it.
Some mornings realizing the biggness of God comes and rests upon my little life.
At this time last year I was shattered and scattered. But this year I am so different and continue to shift.
My God…He
Sits and resonates, and speaks. And as I look at my life and realize that as uncomfortable as it is…as hard as it seems…He is.
I’m not. But He is.
As I was working on my post for tomorrow that I started yesterday morning I came upon this quote by CS Lewis. Oh how I love CS Lewis. His words are truth.
So, If you want to sum up where I am…this “House” is my soul right now…
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”
So there you go…to God be the Glory.
Happy Sunday.
today.
3 baseball games.
One birthday party.
3 wins.
No call outs.
Dropping off kids x 6
Picking up kids x 6
Exhausted.
Spent.
And they sell coffee at one of the snack bars.
Happy.
In honor of National Police Week…and in honor of my family…we see you.
He had court this am. Came home and had a call out and just got another.
This past year his life has been threatened.
Our family has been threatened.
He gets up. He goes.
He is a man in Honor. We see you.
He is the love of my life. He is my soul mate, and every day I trust him to a city where people call him names, where he is judged because he wears a badge.
We see you.
And
I won’t stop…because my best friends husband was killed in the line of duty.
I won’t stop…because our president and our media continue to strengthen a divide- by sending people to a funeral and not supporting the man fighting for his life. There I said it.
I won’t stop…because for every profession there is someone who has abused it, but the REAL peace makers- the ones who put their lives on the line so you can sit at home and have your glass of wine and watch your reality TV show while I clean my house…just in case. Just in case- Mark or Pat shows up because they are “my people” designated to show up…if the worse happens.
I won’t stop…because I have planned his funeral but I will fight for his safety. Against ignorance. Against agendas.
I won’t stop…because I love my country. And I love my husband. And I love my God. And his life matters.
I won’t stop…Because I see Him.
I saw him hold our children for the first time. And I saw him cry on the altar next to me when we got married. I saw him and knew I would marry him when I was 16. I saw him feed his grandmother last month, and I see him playing catch with our children. I have seen him buy a birthday cake for a girl who was in jail on her birthday and didn’t have anyone remember. I watched him hold our Angel baby and cry. And I have been there for every call out and heard him drop everything to help someone in need and I know that he is the best person I’ve ever known.
I always disliked that game…I never felt brave enough to do the things I was dared to do. And the truth was usually about who I liked or who I didn’t like, and I always felt so bad that I would hurt someone’s feelings. But for the sake of this post I’m going to play a little truth or dare with myself and my writing.
Truth: I’m not really cool. I don’t know what’s trendy anymore. I don’t keep up with the Kardashians and don’t care to. I think the most beautiful women are women who have wrinkles around their eyes from laughing. I want the kind of friends who will pluck my chin when I’m in a coma and sit and read books to me.
Dare: I am daring myself to be better at saying No. Because I’ve noticed this past week I’ve been absolutely exhausted. And more sad, and I know I’ve been stretched too thin. So, the answer is no.
Truth: I didn’t realize that Babies were wearing those little amber colored necklaces for teething, I just thought everybody was raising hipster babies.
Dare: It is still very hard for me on hard weeks to not start to get anxious that I’m going to return to this time last year, when I was terrified and couldn’t bear the thought of the day to day. I’m getting better, but I still need to ask for prayer. A lot.
Truth: I like sweats. And it takes me less than 5 minutes to get in them when I get home. I just love them. In fact sometimes I find myself day dreaming about sweats. And work out clothes.
Dare: I time myself when I’m cleaning. And make lists that I mark off. Little dares to keep me going. Because on days when it’s overcast, I just want to sleep, and I need a little motivation. My fit bit helps -and not thinking and just doing does too.
Truth: But I never feel like I’m caught up. Ever. I dream of going on vacation and not worrying about money.
Dare: I’m daring myself to be okay with that.
Truth: Today I got mad. I got mad at Cancer and how it takes such good people. I got mad at infertility and how people that are meant to be parents have to feel that emptiness. I got mad at loss- and grief, and how my friend had to feel the empty and lonely of widowhood today, and there was no freaking thing I could say that would make it better. I got mad at people who hurt others, and who hurt children. And I said the words “it’s NOT fair!” And I said them over and over. And I wanted to cry, and wondered why the most unfair things happen…
Dare: And I dared myself to pray. Because I was mad and I didn’t want to. Because I didn’t want to give Him my anger, but I did, and I still don’t think it’s fair…but I know He is good. And I thought of our stories, and how our real will influence and change someone else’s life. How it may bring hope to the broken, and how it brings us together. I thought about how a life can truly change another- and how amazing it must be to leave our real imprinted in someone else’s hope.
Truth: I love Tattoo’s. I got my first one when I was 18. It’s now faded and surrounded by stretch marks. But it’s still a butterfly. I have loved butterflies my whole life, and even with its faded colors and stretchy skin it is still a part of me. I think of how often I have allowed the past to shape how I view myself, instead of looking at myself- and truly seeing myself. Looking at every inch and memory, and moment and finding that though I’m not there yet- I am doing my best to love my skin the way I love and cherish those around me.
Dare: In fact I’m daring myself to love my body. To love my imperfections and sags, to cherish myself- the way I love my family.and my friends. The way I fold my children into my arms and lean into my husband. The way I will jump into my car for a friend just to give her a hug. Or stop everything to pray for someone. I am daring myself to not fall into the place of comparisons and inadequacies- but loving the parts right in front of me.
Truth: I see beauty in so many things. In laughter and kindness. In recovery and hope. I even see beauty in dust and cobwebs. But I don’t always see beauty in myself. I fear pictures of myself. But I have the kind of friends who show up and always carry tweezers, who love my laugh lines and hug me even if I sag.
Dare: So…in the spirit of Dare here is my first tattoo…real. Me. Imprinted, permanent. And you know what…I love it. I love my stretch marks around it. And tonight in my sweats, snuggled with my kids, I see beauty in my real body.
Truth: it only took my 36 years but I’m getting there.
My Joyful Mysteries, and A Revolution of Real 