:on motherhood & superheroes:

he fights crime by day, donning the suit of blue and red and black, two feet too long. his sisters join him in the fight as super girls. they are bold and strong and fierce and brave. all the things i wish upon their lives and character for the days to come. hopeful this place in time is more of a prophesy of what's to come.

part of my mama heart wishes for them to be real life super heroes. 

like this one that speaks out for the broken and oppressed, shining light into dark places. or this one that rescue's little girls from a life that was never meant for them. or this one who has never given birth yet mothers thirteen girls.

i wish this for them knowing what this means for me.

once upon a time my mama put a twenty-something girl on a plane that flew her half way around the world. i don't remember an expression of tears or fears, only the loving and pushing and believing that if this was my place, she would trust in Him. i tucked that lesson away in my i'm-never-having-children-heart for this time and place in a full coffee shop, three children at home, fighting back tears, of remembering and believing just as she did.

when the days seem long and hard and mundane, i am reminded of my calling, raising real life super heroes. 

when they are sick and i hold them close, brushing their hair away from baby faces whispering prayers of health and humming songs of comfort, they are learning the super power of nurturing.

when they are angry and i speak gentleness, teaching them to use their words and minds to problem solve, they are learning the super power of peacemaking.

when they are hurting and i give way to silliness, at all costs, for laughter, they are learning the super power of joy.

when i'm exhausted only wanting to fall into the coziness of the couch for a moments rest and they say, mama come play with me? and i do, they are learning the super power of selflessness.

when a friend comes into town and wants to visit and the house hasn't been cleaned in days, okay weeks, and the refrigerator is bare and we fly into our teamwork a.k.a. cleaning and bake something yummy, they are learning the super power of hospitality.

this is my journey.
this is my calling.
this is my legacy.

mama's stand firm in the storms of sleepless nights and tantrums for it is in the midst of these days our super heroes are formed. 


*just writing with heather 

:the charming gardeners:

the temperature rises while the days grow long. smack dab in the middle of the tired thirties i wrestle with the demands of this aging body. uninterrupted sleep is but a faded memory. quiet, unheard.

yet these are the days that i want to remember, hold dear and cherish now and always. these moments. the moments of baby belly giggles and snaggle-tooth. the white blond hair, unkept, on that gorgeous boy of mine. the little girl who turns into a young lady while i blink.

the moments of being needed in the night and far too early in the morning. the moments of cheerios and blueberries strewn throughout the floors. tiny shoes, mismatched, always searching for the missing culprit. the days of so and so touched me and refereeing more than i'd like.

days of endless hugs, kisses and cuddling. the days of sitting shoulder to shoulder reading book after book with only a request for more. yes, these truly are THE DAYS. let us live full in them, every last one.

"let us be grateful to the people who make us happy for they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom"

-marcel proust

//

find these inspiring words & others in my shop The Lovely Words

:what i'm into // april 2013:

i look back on this month through blurred lenses. the most recent past is often the hardest to recall. moments that stand out the most are those moments spent in the midst of a full house. april was a month for practicing hospitality. local and out of town guests adorned our table while their children delighted in the bliss of unchartered territory in our back yard. stories were shared around the fire, drinks around the table, laughter throughout our home. planning for may to look very similar as we continue this journey of practicing hospitality.

other things i've been into in the month of april....

read & reading
i finished an altar in the world by barbara brown taylor. i checked it out from the library but this is a book i must own. she discusses twelve practices to consider incorporating in every day life. all beautiful. all worthy of contemplation.

i also read the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald for the first time ever. i loved the imagery, feeling more than once, as though i was actually at one of gatsby's famous parties. the ending was truly sad and as one that needs closure, if you've read it you know why, i was a little disappointed.

i am currently reading bread and wine by shauna niequist and have been on the hunt for arborio rice to make her risotto. shauna paints beautiful pictures of moments in her life where food has played an unforgettable role.

next up is falling upward, a spirituality for the two halves of life by richard rohr and cold tangerines by shauna niequest. 

watching
we haven't had much time for movies but our current television addiction is breaking bad. i usually watch mad men while folding laundry or processing orders.

music
music remains pretty much the same. we typically start our mornings with sufjan steves for children or the praise baby collection on pandora. this seems to put our moods in the proper place as we get ready for the day ahead. if the children are outside playing i find myself listening to mumford & sons because they just never get old. workout radio is my go-to for getting me through my time on the elliptical and when i'm cooking dinner it's always frank sinatra or billie holiday.

excited
blown away, actually, by the response to these. 

anticipating
starting in May, in honor or mothers everywhere, i will be hosting a series {tales of motherhood}, where i have invited some pretty amazing mama's to share pieces of their journey to encourage the rest of us. we are not meant to do this alone- motherhood // lets do it together, mmmkay?


what are you into?

*linking up with the lovely leigh

:the one with {THELOVELYWORDS}:

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT#1:: 
the pleated polka dot is now {THE LOVELY WORDS}.

i have had a love affair with words since i could fit under my mama's coffee table. it was there that i would write and illustrate stories on end to share with those around me. little did i know that even then i was preparing for this place and time of pouring out.

"if i have a hope, it's that god sat over the dark nothing and wrote you and me, specifically, into the story, and put us in with the sunset and the rainstorm as though to say, enjoy your place in my story. the beauty of it means you matter, and you can create within it even as i have created you."

-donald miller, a million miles in a thousand years 

in this space you will find my story intertwined with His. my journey of motherhood and practicing the way of jesus in the every day moments. it only seemed fitting to change the name to something more in line with my hearts purpose- to share lovely words of encouragement with those i encounter. i hope you will be blessed and in turn, do the same. 

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT #2:: 

you can also see the words that i find lovely in this space. 

THE LOVELY WORDS will now be offering decorative prints for your home, workspace or gift giving. these prints are inspired by quotes found in the books i'm reading, scripture that speaks or phrases that we use regularly around our home. i'd love for you to hop on over and let me know which ones stand out to you. 

"kind words are like honey, sweet to the soul and healthy to the body."

proverbs 16:24

'Happy Monday!

* linking up with carissa for miscellany monday

:rainy day play:

"think left and think right and think low and think high. 

oh the thinks you can think up if only you try."

-dr. seuss

what rainy days look like around our home.

:the one where we are noisy...and joyful:

life is loud at this stage. our home echoes the pitter-patter of tiny feet, ages six, three and one. noise, oh the noise, makes this home joyful. for they are full of love. at least the most part is love. some days they are loving one minute and fighting the next. aren't we all wrestling the beast of self daily? 

on the journey of becoming a peacemaker reveals the many moments that i am not. so i seek out those that have perfected this character and ask, how? this act alone was mighty, for pride is so big and stands firm in my way of reaching out. yet i did. what is your secret? 

she answered humbly, because that's her. offering scripture and food for thought. i wrote down every word to revisit on the hard days.

the big girl helped me make hot pink play dough. she squealed with delight as the color turned. smiling so big her cheeks touched her eye lashes and you could see the space where three baby teeth used to be.

we laid out cookie cutters and a bowl full of play dough. one for her and one for her brother. they giggled when i gave them marshmallows for snack, a rare and precious treat. i sat with them and made hearts and snowmen, writing love notes on the paper.

i get up and down from my desk to help the little ones, my back catching each time. age, the great suitor, staking his claim on the days well past my youth. they make play dough cupcakes. i give them a candle for play and they sing happy birthday to one another. eisley says, to no one in particular, this is fun! i whisper, thankyoujesus.

:the one where i reflect on the simple:

my sweet girl turned six years old last week. she feels so big girl. not five, no not five. five is but a baby and she is six. full on six.

for breakfast we made cinnamon rolls and sausage per her request. the moments following play in slow motion in my mind. her hair blowing in the wind. a smile as big as the moon as she rounded the corner of our dinner table on her brand new razor scooter. she grew decades in those moments. keys in hand hopping into her first car to drive away. waving goodbye as she heads out with friends. packing for college.

this journey, so bitter-sweet.

a party was thrown in her honor and all of her favorite people were invited. sixteen adults and thirteen children filled our home with joy and laughter. little girls ran around in princess dresses and little boys donned shields and swords. they choose their roles so young. the birthday girl announced her betrothal to a sweet little friend and proceeded to march through the halls wearing my wedding veil carrying a bouquet of handmade flowers. be still my heart.

she requested an art party and a piñata but didn't really get either. when i asked her if she was happy with her party she said "yes i'm happy, it's friends and family that are important." happy and content with the presence and presents of loved ones. she knows value. her treasure is found in people, not things.

eyeballs turned to saucers as children realized the free reign of cupcake decorating that laid before them. pink and purple icing from head to toe. sprinkles for days. little ones delight in the little. small gestures of freedom go to the deep parts of their souls.

then there are those friends, the ones that stay well past everyone else. washing dishes, sharing stories and belly laughter that hurts for weeks. a welcome reminder of days not wasted. days full of the good and simple gifts that point us to Him.

these are the moments that memories are made of. let us not forget the simple. the precious. the good. for they are all a reflection of His goodness and His mercy.

*linking up with carissa 
*just writing with heather

:the one where i draw them with unfailing kindness:

some moments feel as though the sea lies between us. i see them there, in the distance, longing to be close. emotions overwhelm their tiny existence. they fuss and fight. they push back and rebel. they resist with all their might.

naps all around for tired souls. prayers of peace in the silence. when they wake, it's still there, in the cracks of their brokenness. there is only one thing that will cure this ailment. one thing that will end the funk.

lavish them with unfailing kindness.

works every time.

:the one where i meet her in the small moments:

it's a gentle nudge in the moments before the sun has topped the trees. a calling of sorts. there was a time when it was something to be checked off my list. devotions? check. prayer? check. now it is like a friend waiting with coffee in hand to hear about my best and worst moments. she leans in as i whisper the things that haunt my soul, my struggles. her brows furrow as she takes in every word, branding them on her heart. when i cry, she cries. when i laugh, she laughs. she nods her head as i pour out. she's been there. she's walked this road before.

she reminds me of her love and the folly of it all.
that is why i meet her in the morning.


*linking up with carissa for miscellany monday
*just writing with heather the eo

:the one where we NEED the hard days:

motherhood, like an ocean, swells and overcomes at times. navigation difficult, with the sweeping of currents resembling tiny faces in need of attention. i am no master of the sea. captain by default, putting my best foot forward as i stumble along. it can be a lonely place on the sea of perfection. when you think everyone else has it all together. you, certainly, the only one pulling out the life boat.

there are lessons to be learned in the hard days of motherhood.

it is in the hard days that i realize my undying need for grace and the infinite supply at my disposal. 

like the son who fell into the trenches of nothingness. returning to his father expecting shame for his failures, receiving grace instead, so it is with motherhood.

there are days where it feels as though all we have to give is squandered. no value left. nothing to show for the day spent. yet there is grace. abundant grace.

and a new day coming with no mistakes in it yet.


*linking up with carissa for miscellany monday
*just writing with heather the eo

:the one where grace abounds:

we finished up morning snack, made-from-scratch-honey-biscuits, and i sent them outside to play. black and white my uniform for the day, only short a whistle and cap to pull off my role as referee.

motherhood breeds hard days. shocked by the chaos of it all. what did i expect from these little ones when i haven't mastered the art of peace making in my thirty-five years? they are learning to control emotions far larger than their little minds can fathom. selfishness, natural. peacemaking, a skill to be learned.

i pulled a chair close to the door so i could see them play. grabbed my book, closed my eyes and breathed a prayer of peace.

"grace abounds and walks around the edges of our everyday experience." 

-brennan manning

grace abounds.

there is enough grace for this moment. this blank space in time that feels overwhelming and unsuccessful to the naked eye. enough grace for their tempers and mine. enough grace to carry us all to peace.

there is enough.

i lay my book down and walk outside, hunched over, hands in the air, saying,  fe, fi, fo, fum, i smell the smell of little ones, in my scariest, playful voice. screams emerge and children scatter. i chase them and take them to my lair. this interaction on repeat until we are out of breath and full of joy for this moment abounding with grace.

:the one where i like my unforgiveness:

our table was full again last night. full of food and laughter. good friends and conversation. at times we could hardly hear ourselves think as the children ran circles around the table. fresh-from-the-bath-hair flapping in the wind, getting out that last bit of energy before bedtime.

the dishes clanked as they were rinsed and loaded into the dishwasher. cleaning the table, a group effort. she knows, from way back, my need for a tidy kitchen in order to relax. she accepts that part of me.

jacob made espresso in his fancy little espresso maker while i snuggled tired children and tucked them into their beds for a good nights sleep. tell me about that time you were playing at your friends house and venom walked by the garage, durgin requested. so i told him this elaborate story that we have created together, then we said good night and he was off to sleep. i make my way across the hall to eisley, she asked about the house catching on fire as she does every night. fear is a jerk. i remind her of perfect love, inviting fear to hit the road. i hold her tight reminding her of mommy's love and say good night.

i grabbed the cable knit blanket as i walked by the couch, wrapped myself up, though it was still 75 degrees in our house, and plopped on the couch next to jacob. practicing the way of jesus is topic of discussion. loving the poor, caring for orphans, feeding the hungry, reaching out to the downtrodden and discouraged. yes, this is our journey. this is my heart. these are the things i am teaching my children daily.

then someone said you could invite your enemy for dinner. they weren't speaking specifically to me but
it was as if someone sat on my chest, lungs tight, air lacking. invite my enemy for dinner???? 

i'd like to say, as an adult, that i don't have any enemies. yet, truth be told, i like my unforgiveness. he is an old friend that shows up when i need him. he doesn't knock, old friends never do, he just comes right in. we reminisce about old times and he reminds me of his faithfulness. i hold him close, a comfort. justification for the hard places in my heart.

love your enemies
do good to those who hate you
bless those who mistreat you

a sumu match of the soul takes place. surely you didn't mean those people jesus? unforgiveness speaks up on my behalf, let me remind you of what they did to her. unforgiveness lays out the ugly details of that time my heart shattered into a million pieces. that time my reputation was put to question. that time i was knee deep in the ministry of shaping young girls' hearts and maliciously interrupted.

remember jesus? 
surely you don't mean to love those people? to be good to those people? to bless those people?
unforgiveness stood firm, eyebrows furrowed with determination, while jesus responded with gentleness that laid heavy, yes those people. 


*linking up with carissa for miscellany monday
*linking up with heather for just write

:the one where the little one has a super power:

oh little one of mine, tiny in stature and frame. how did we get here so quickly? do tell, little one, what is the secret to slowing time? what is the secret to holding on, remembering all?

everything within my mama heart wants to remember how you wrinkle your nose when you smile. not a tooth in sight, gums for miles, brighten a whole room. quite the task for such a little bit. you say your daddy's name all day long but we both know you are mama's girl. don't worry, i'll never tell.

just when did you turn crawling into sport? heaven knows you'd win any race set before you. oh and thank you so much for keeping my floors so clean. what you don't get with your clothes you happily pick up with you itty-bity fingers and place carefully into your mouth. spotless, i tell you, spotless.

i love to see your little bottom upright. you cruise from furniture piece to furniture peace. you want to take a step but it's just too darn scary at the moment. that's okay, no rush, lets just take it slow, shall we?

in case you didn't know it, little one, your eyes are your super power. like kryptonite, they disable even the strongest of foes. you can thank your daddy for that lovely gift. his are the same and mommy is powerless against them.

we will celebrate your first birthday next month. i'm already planning your party. all of your favorite people we be there. all giving thanks for the glorious gift of one year with you, our sweet jarius baby.

forever loving you,
mommy

:the one where he shouted and i moved:

he ran the full length of the platform with enthusiasm. he shouted and sweated a lot. i am unsure why someone yelling would motivate me to a deeper relationship with christ. but it did. by the end of the night, fueled by adrenaline and the emotion of thousands of students around me, i found myself face down on the nasty stadium floor.

it wasn't part of my plan, this place. this university that required skirts below the knee, curfews and supervised dates. this university that did not allow television, shorts or secular music. this university that teaches the earth is 6,000 years old, dinosaurs were on the ark, and certainty saves.

the selfishness of my eighteen year old existence wanted desperately to leave town. the town that i now, can never imagine leaving. the town where three grandparents, two aunts and uncles, five first cousins and thirty plus extended family reside.  yet i needed to leave. i needed a fresh start. i needed a place where no one knew me and that's exactly what i got.

i left high school a believer, at least when people were watching. i care far too much about what others think. both a flaw and a virtue.

i left college a in love with the One that loved me first, last and all the moments in between.

in the months following the sweaty-man-marathon-inspired-conversion. i developed a love for the written word. the WORD. i woke up early and went to bed late devouring every word inspired by Him. i read oswald chamber's my utmost for his highest daily, certain that each page was written specifically for me at that place and time.

i quickly climbed the spiritual ladder set before me and became a small group leader on my hall. five girls came to my room each week to read scripture and be encouraged. little did i know this was paving the way to the future when girls would grace my home weekly, growing us both by leaps and bounds.

as part of the small group leader requirements, i met with my SLD (spiritual life director) once a week for accountability.

accountability [noun]: the state of being accountable, liable or answerable. 

the day before my meetings my stress level went through the roof.

what if i couldn't remember what i had read in my devotions?
what if i couldn't articulate how god was working in my life this week?
what if i was not spiritual enough?
what if i was not growing enough?

i popped my knuckles as i waited outside her door. my stomach in knots.

***

we leaned over the table close to hear each other. music loud and people too close for comfort in a coffee shop. she talked about her marriage and family. i did the same. we talked about our love for simplicity and our belief that we are called to live simply and love extravagantly. loving extravagantly looks different from one person to the next. we are all working out our own salvation. we laughed loud and hard and cried a little too. at the end of the night i felt full to the brim in my soul. though we never opened the bible or prayed, i felt holy. i thought of kicking off my shoes for the holy ground we stood upon.

what is holy but what is sacred, dedicated to god?
what is sacred but what is dedicated to some religious purpose, consecrated?

let us dedicate our moments to god, encouraging one another to do good, love him and love others.
take off your shoes sisters, for we are standing on holy ground.

:13 in 2013:

"isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"

- l.m. montgomery

when the world is spinning and chaos ensues, consuming, this is the gift that breathes new life into my weary soul. 

a new day with no mistakes.

a clean slate.

chance.

opportunity. 

as the year turns over i am quieted with the gift of this time with no mistakes. no tempers lost or words to regret. no moments missed or lack of patience exposed. no selfishness. no hurt feelings. no guilt. only chance and opportunity, an open invitation to all.

with each new year comes resolution. intentions set in place. a heart full of hope. we are all on this journey of hopefulness, ever evolving into holiness. lets walk together, encouraging one another towards love that reveals itself in the doing. 

>>>>> 13 in 2013 <<<<<

 (inspired by shane claiborne)

1. do for one what i cannot do for all. 

i took this goal directly from shane's post. it perfectly suits what is constantly on my 

heart so i will join him in this calling.

2. send cards weekly as an act of love and encouragement.

 showing just how wide and long and high and deep is the love of christ.

3. say yes more than i say no. 

4. laugh with my children when it is most difficult to do so.

5. live with less.

6. speak less. 

in our recent readings of little house in the big woods, there was mention of how pa spoke 

very little so when he spoke his words carried great weight.

7. focus on the good in others. 

8. invest in my community.

9. see and nurture the specific interests of my children.

10. get outside more.

11. write every day even if i never hit publish.

12. play. 

13. live in grace.

:the one where we delight in the hunting:

it's all a learning curve, this journey. the path is worn and indecipherable at times. no map to consult.  only those who have gone before us as a guide. some walk with us as encouragement. my heart hangs heave these days with the brokenness of this world. the despair and loneliness that fills the hearts of so many. i search for ways to meet needs with our means that seem so little but in reality are so so great.

the little guy crawled into my lap this morning, handing me a magazine, mom can you read about poor people. it was the world vision gift catalog. we went through and read each section.

why is that child sad?

well they don't have a mommy and a daddy?

what happened to them? 

they just got really really sick buddy. 

the mommy got really sick?

yes buddy, the mommy.

"to a small child mommy is still god, and therefore immortal, and must not 

betray the child and the universe by dying." 

- madeleine l'engle 

eisley says prayers for the sandy hook children. she cannot grasp the full weight of what happened nor do i want her to at this time. yet she speaks words that fall like bricks into my soul, heavy and true.

our world is hurting.
our brothers and sisters are hurting.
our church, the body is hurting.

"one of the greatest weapons of all is laughter, a gift for fun, a sense of play which is 

sadly missing from the grown up world."

-madeleine l'engle

in the midst of the hurting and heavy, we played.

i stumbled upon this scavenger hunt that looked super fun! i wrote words that eisley could read. taped them all around the house directing her from one location to the next. She and her brother giggled the entire time as she sounded out words! Pure delight bounced off the walls of our home. i ran behind them cheering them on to the next card and danced circles around them when they found their prize.

laughter is a truly powerful weapon.
let us laugh today.


*linking up with emily 

:the one where love looks quite ordinary:

lately i've been reading this and this. in the wake of the loss in Connecticut and the lives affected and broken there i am searching for how to love in this time and this place.

love has many forms.

sometimes it looks like art made with hands sharing my mama heart arriving via snail mail style on just the right day.

sometimes it looks like a brother and sister squabbling one minute and giggling the next. learning new tricks like how to climb high on playhouses and stand gloriously triumphant. cheers over hot chocolate then a mad game of hey lets dump it all over one another! 

sometimes it looks like little hands creating and selling to earn money to buy a poor girl a baby doll. knowing all too well privilege and how richly we are blessed.

sometimes it looks like a phone call from a grandparent that says hey, bring the children over and go enjoy a coffee date with the one you love.

sometimes it looks like hide-and-seek in the dark right before bed.

sometimes it looks like a text, or help with groceries, or just a hello.

sometimes it looks like gingerbread houses and candy strewn across the floor. tiny faces covered in icing.

sometimes it looks like diapers and cigarettes. 

sometimes it looks big and small and here and now.

sometimes it looks nothing like we thought it would.

let us love.

:the one where love looks like diapers & cigarettes:

we sat around the table sharing stories that never quite have an ending. questions that never fully get answered. yet even in the incompleteness of it all, encouragement roamed the room. one spoke of his encounter with a stranger recently while leaving a restaurant. the stranger came up to him and said,

hey it's christmas, you got a gift for me?

to which he replied, i have half a pizza here, you can have it.

nah man i don't need no pizza. whatch you got for me?

i don't know man, what do you want? you want a forty?

he went on to say i would buy him a forty and follow it with give the man a strong drink.

everyone gave a raised eyebrow, gave a nod and went on with the sequence of unfinished thoughts. their voices and laughter turned to white noise as i sat on those words for a while. how would jesus handle that? obviously the man needs so much more than a strong drink. honestly where will that get him? is that really doing good? surely that's not how we should practice the way of jesus?

i came home and searched the scriptures and there it was, the sayings of king lemuel.

Let beer be for those who are perishing,

    wine for those who are in anguish!

⁷ 

Let them drink and forget their poverty

    and remember their misery no more.

provers 31:6-7

maybe my friend is on to something.
maybe practicing the way of jesus looks nothing like we think it should. 

shane claiborne shared another unorthodox approach to this subject in his book, irresistible revolution.

a young guy, went door to door in an apartment complex, sharing the love of jesus. he knocked on one door and a lady with a cigarette in her mouth and a naked baby on her hip answered. he began his presentation of the gospel and she slammed the door in his face. discouraged, he walked away. in the midst of his discouragement and questioning he had an epiphany. running to the nearest market he bought a pack of diapers and cigarettes and went back. he sat on the floor and smoked a cigarette with the lady. 

again my mind wrestles with these truths. surely jesus didn't mean this when he said love your neighbors? surely this isn't how the gospel is meant to be presented? then i come back to the lines drawn in the sand in defense of the one the law said to stone. i come back to dinner with guy that stole extra from everyone for himself. i come back to wine at the wedding. i come back to healing on the sabbath. i come back to acceptance of the unacceptable. his life didn't always look good to those around him. he looked like a rebellious, law breaker to many. when he was actually expanding our perception of what love should look like.

sometimes it looks like a forty.
sometimes it looks like diapers and cigarettes.
sometimes it looks like lines drawn in the sand.

let us do the same.

*just writing with heather today

:the one where my mother heart aches:

the clouds hung low and the rain poured heavy, limbs bowing at the weight of it all. i walked around aimlessly most the day, floating here and there in no one direction. no purpose. i entertained the children with board games, crafts, movies and snacks. anything to keep the day moving forward. i found myself a bit snippy and impatient and wondering why.

later in the day i packed them up and sent them off with kisses to their grandparents house. they are loved there. loved with toys and snuggles and yummy things for their bellies. probably more than usual on this visit.

it's quite possible every kid in america received extra this weekend.

one more minute.
one more movie.
one more cookie.
one more kiss.
one more hug.
one more snuggle.
one more game. 
one more.

once the house was quiet i read this. i needed to read it. i needed to process the news. i needed to mourn the loss. i needed to grieve with the mothers i may never know. it was a hard read. hard to know their names. knowing their names makes it real. like when you hold your new born baby and you call them by the name you have held in your heart, just for them. at that moment the heaviness falls upon you- this is a person. they belonged to someone. someone that will never know their hugs and kisses in this life again.

my heart shattered into shards of glass emerging as tears until there were no pieces left to spill. i called him to hold me and he did but no comfort i found. there is no comfort in this. it is and should be uncomfortable. it should be so uncomfortable that our discomfort leads to action. leads to love. love with hands and feet and words and faith that moves mountains to be one people, united, carrying one another's burdens.

it would be so easy to disconnect, to ignore the hurt, flip the switch. yet we are called, commanded even, to carry the load, the heavy one, together. we were not meant to walk this road alone. we are one body. His body, the one that was broken for us, so that we can be broken for one another. yet it is not enough to be broken. we must be moved to change. to love harder. to love intentionally. to love well. to love often. to love until it hurts and then love more.

we must love.

let us love a real, unstoppable, overflowing, contagious kind of love right where we are today.


*linking up with carissa for miscellany monday

:the one where we turn on a small light:

so, i am not what i thought i'd be. trying to figure out how to practice the way of jesus with my children by my side keeping them safe, yet reaching out into the ugly-messy that is all around us.

it's so simple for my children. this has to be what jesus was talking about when he said the kingdom of god belongs to such as these. kids keep it simple. i'm trying to figure out how i can get to the homeless shelter with three kids in tow because jesus reached out to the homeless and was after all, homeless, and my children are bringing heaven to earth right where they are.

we went to the grocery store to get supplies to bake bread for our neighbors. never a small feat with three under five. i dressed and loaded three precious little ones into the mini van and we made our way. i unloaded them giving them a pep talk about not running, being good listeners and using their manners.

we started down the aisle and they started saying hello to every person we passed. they made eye contact and waved. one older gentleman, in particular, took to them. he watched them with joy strewn across his face. he delighted in my children and they in him. he giggled as they were fascinated by the toys that lined the rows saying i'm just gonna look mommy. he was not bothered when they ran in front of his buggy or twirled into his space. their joy was contagious and he caught what they were passing around with an open hand.

after loading babies and groceries into the van, then unloading once we arrived home, we began baking. what would normally take me twenty minutes took about an hour. we talked and giggled and eisley took in new skills. i found myself in awe of this little one with such a big heart. we packaged our bread and delivered it to our neighbors and she felt the joy of giving with no agenda, expecting nothing in return. that joy spilled over into my mama heart, a rare and precious treasure to be pondered all of my days.

we are all ordinary people. who can within our own small ways 

turn on a small light in a dark room 

-miep gies