Firstborn.

Friday, October 5, 2018

Firstborn, your curiosity and resolve never ceases to amaze me.

Day 5 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

Me, Really?

I found my beauties curled up with books on the couch this morning.  A rare, slow morning for them.  The dreariness of the early made me tired.  Dressed for the day, the morning routine was just that, so much so, that I hardly recognized the significant.  You see, my girls were to be my sidekicks for the day.  Hot chocolates and pancakes out and about because today was going to be special.  Anticipating the day, I didn't immediately recognize what they had done.  While curled on the couch, they had noticed me.  So, there my beauties stood in long dresses and cardigans, just like their momma, because they wanted to be like me.  That realization floored me.

Me?  Really?  What a high calling we have as women and mothers.  The significance of today wasn't lost on this momma.  We walked the course of today in our subtle matching ways and all this momma's heart could hope for was their steps, too.  My path has at time been crooked and windy and over course terrain.  But what I hope is the same faithfulness.  The same faithfulness of friendship, of a kind soulmate, and of a great, big God that I can attest to today and every day.

Day 4 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

Grandma's Dress that Mom Wore.

I am not entirely sure why I ventured to the tiny basement closet last evening.  It was twenty minutes before we were to leave, so why I was rifling through old homecoming dresses instead of picking out something from the everyday ware, I still don't know.  Stumbling on this old dress, though, it just seemed right.  It is my grandma's dress.  I am sure it nearly graced her ankles.  When my mom was a one-day-old bride, my grandma gave this dress to my mom.  I don't have photos of either wearing this heavy, shiny gold gem.  I wish I did.  I wish I could hear their stories.  I wish I could feel their excitement of dressing up for a special evening.  I wish I could know if it made them feel just a wee bit lovely.  I still have them both and their stories and their dress.  I guess, I have every thing I could wish for.

Day 3 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

Dirt Beneath My Nails.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Some spiders ate my pretty house plants.  Their dried, fruitless remains became a household staple this last month.  Funny how often we shift our glance to avoid the ugly.  Too easy, I guess.  My little boy picked out two new plants, yesterday.  In the stillness of tonight's dark, I found myself tearing out the ugly to make way for something beautiful.  I type with dirt beneath my nails and a full heart.  Turns out, facing the ugly and moving towards beautiful is all kinds of special.

Day 2 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

A Modern Day Pioneer Woman

Monday, October 1, 2018

Just scribbles, really.  With the women of yore who modeled the thirty-first chapter of Proverbs in the most real of ways as inspiration.  I do not dare to re-write, but if I may, I scribble these thoughts as my mantra of sorts.  My heart speak translation of those inerrant words.  Really, just scribbles of a girl who so badly desires to be a modern day pioneer woman. 

A Modern Day Pioneer Woman
Look up from your screen, dear woman. For you are a true gem.
Your favorites count on you. They don’t think twice about having clean underwear.
Kind woman, your words are generous and lovely.
You search and seek and loose sleep on account of the hunt for adventure.
Your midnight Amazon cart is full of what is needed and perhaps, a few surprises. Thank you, Lord, for Prime.
You awake and draw in a few breaths before the loud morning voices and sisterly love bickering, remind you of why you are thankful for that very air in your lungs. The planner ever open.
You look ahead, but not too far. Thrifty and smart.
The morning air is fresh and new. And with the sweaty sports bra sent down the chute, you dress for the adventure called today.
For adventure it is, mundane and beautiful, though, sometimes long and tiresome.
Those favorites have their needs met and there is ample extra. Extra of what makes them tick. Extra of you in their world.
Your eyes are open to hear when a shoulder is needed.
You are a prepared woman. No chasing after papers and snacks and bad attitudes and hurry.
You find what makes you feel beautiful and leave the rest on the curb.
You believe in your husband, so that others believe in him, too. Cheerleading never gets old.
You always have something to bring to the table.
Your confidence makes that Walmart find look stunning. You don’t give your heart in pieces.
You remember that words matter.
You find what makes your favorites’ heart sing and you let them chase it.
Your people are always ecstatic to see you and your husband well, he’s drooling.
You, dear woman, are something special.
It isn’t a false report. The years will go by. Those favorites, though. They don’t care.
You love Jesus. And he has a wild, wild love for you. And that is everything.
You have a blessed life in big and little ways, in annoying and mundane ways, in beautiful and hard ways, in a bazillion ways.
Go ahead then, Pioneer Woman, there’s adventure to be had.

Day 1 of 31 of the #write31days challenge.

If I was Magic

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

Last winter our then five-year-old daughter was charged with writing a story.  She wanted to write a story about what would happen if she was magic.  When probed, what she meant was that she wanted to write a story about what it would mean if she possessed magic powers.  So, we pulled up two chairs and spent the afternoon writing.  She would ask how to spell every word and placed a finger down to mark the space between each and every letter. We spoke of the climax of a story, perhaps a question to re-direct the trajectory.  She simply stated, "But, I am not magic."  "So what can you be, if you are not magic?" I posed.  The remainder of the story unfolded from there.

Since then, our daughter re-illustrated her story to be a coloring book of sorts.  We are calling it a colorable story.  If I was Magic speaks volumes to the message that we want for all children and truly, for all mankind.  The simple lesson has been a blessing to our family and we hope to yours as well.

If I was Magic is a story that our daughter and our family would so love for you to have on your bookshelf. We self-published a limited number of copies that are available here.

Click the cover image below for a sneak peek.

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Playhouse.

Last spring we embarked on a little playhouse for the backyard.  We envisioned a place where the kids could play, create, and pretend.  It also needed to be big enough for the whole family to camp.  It took us most of the summer, but we finished in time for fall photos and winter play. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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