Sitting to blog

It has been months since I've sat to truly blog.  It's been weeks since I sat to even write up my list.  Honestly after months of photographs and months of life passing and changes happening my finger's still don't know how to transpose life into written memories.  What used to be a daily habit, a habit formed to calm my soul now has become a strained work that never ends trailing off into empty white space...

Here's to the hope of thoughts flowing as fingers record the workings of this Momma's heart.  But until then:

93.  Boy treasure's that will all too soon pass from my eyes.
94.  Growing pains that require midnight cuddles.

95.  Walks in the city forest.

96.  Puddle jumpers and bug nets.

97.  Streams to fall into.

98.  Sticks and little boy pocket treasures.

99.  Tired little legs and strong Daddy's.

100.  Family hobbies.
101.  New quivers.
102.  Good cluster's and imperfections.

103.  Spring; the cleanse of death, the feel of life.

We met in May, I said yes in September.

For four years I had heard about you.
For four years I had told my Momma-roo I wasn't interested.

Our second outing together.  The one where you sliced your foot "real good", and we played, would you rather, for at least 4 miles.

Then that Friday before Memorial weekend I arrived home after a full day of flying to find she had volunteered me to help out at your camp.  Little did I know how grateful I would soon be for her meddling.

Even though I told you I wouldn't be your girlfriend, and later said you could not hold my hand, and even though you wouldn't hear a peep from me after every single visit we had, you still waited for me.  Although in all honesty I didn't keep you waiting long.  Or rather God didn't keep us waiting long.  I said no and kept silent because I really liked you, but wanted to make sure I heard God through my emotions.

On September 29th He said you could put that ring on my finger.  We are after all a match made in heaven.

I can never say it enough, TFA.

Two ends of the spectrum and still united

Boys,

I love the way your Daddy loves to be neck deep in Kingdom work.  I love it.  When he was first asked to work part time for our church I was the one who told him to do it.  Since I have very much enjoyed watching him thrive and watching God use him to bring souls into heaven.  Not just souls but disciples, even better right?

While he has been doing that I took time off from ministry.  I mourned for a time as I thought if I stepped out I would become mediocre or less in love with Jesus.  In the end I realized it was both my pride and the fear of the unknown.  After a year of focusing on my heart and healing my bi-polar mind I realized while serving in the church I missed loving those outside of it.  The more time I spend outside of the church the more passionate I am about the ones who are still blind.  With this passion for those outside I become more indignant with those on the inside for there petty arguments and silly traditions.  I am ready to walk away and find a new way of doing church, because the traditional church body continually abuses itself. Chopping of limbs and then blaming other parts for it's actions ignoring the fact that it is slowly bleeding out and coming to it's death.  *Deep mournful sigh* 

However, Daddy's ministry which I love and support is to those same people.  He sees hope and potential for healing.  These people make his heart beat especially the children.  If he were to step out of an organization like this I'm not sure what he would do or how he would do it.  The children are his calling and the children can be found at church.

We are at two ends of the spectrum, but still fully committed to each other and even more so to God.  We know that God has a solution and has reasons for giving us such different burdens.  Every part of life is a season and every season has something to teach to prepare us for the next season.  God is good and faithful and will teach us as we grow together through this season of different passions.

As you look back I hope you can see this to be true of us, that we grew together keeping our love for God at the center of each aspect of our life.

We love you boys.

Coffee invite

When hard moments last for days resulting in a needed break from the here and now, dramatic steps need to be taken.  Finding myself in this position I sent a quick text inviting my Bestie out for coffee.  For young Mommas this kind of outing comes far and few between cause two families to rearrange life for two people to sit sipping coffee talking of the heart without the interruptions that little people bring.  And yet she one upped me turning coffee into dinner.

We sat in this cozy little restaurant splurging on soda as this was a "birthday, forget the world night out".  As we sat together she asked many questions listened quietly and then asked more.  Only when she saw the depths of my heart did she begin to share her wisdom.  In some cases agreement and in others a "well you need to remember...".  It was good, it was what I needed.

Outside of my bestie I have heard many times that I need to trust and that the process needs to happen and I have to wait it out.  The problem is that while the church battles over which children's ministry method needs to happen in the name of protecting young souls.  The very thing they fight over is being lost, both in the children and in there parents.  This is the cause of my moaning tears.

As I cry out that this hurts and my heart is broken those around me tell me I need to trust in them, in God, and in the process. That I need to forgive and that I need to work at not becoming bitter.  All good things, but after months they have not shown me where I am not following through in any of these areas.  Show me the ugly fruit of loosing trust, harboring bitterness and holding grudges.  Show me!  Ah, they can't under the guise of only God can see my heart.  Funny how while I am told He is the only one that can see my heart, yet they are so quick to judge that same heart. 

This causing me to feel betrayed by my church leaders and mentors.  I feel they are so wrapped up in the process of changing the hearts of the hardened that they don't have time for this bleeding one or those who have bled out before me.  It seems the process to them is more important then the hearts of those who strive to know Jesus more.  They say the goal is unity and while in word it is said they understand if some don't get on board they will be left behind while in action they are siding with those and watching the young who are passionate and the not yet friends of Jesus bleed on the battle field.  In my case rather then searching my heart they are asking "Sunday school" questions of "where is your heart--Have you forgiven, have you guarded yourself from bitterness, are you causing gossip, are your actions upsetting others, is there a possibility that your actions are upsetting others, are you trusting enough?"  As said before they are unwilling to show me my folly in turn causing me to hear this, "Your hurt must be the fault of your sin."  Hence the feeling of betrayal from those I have walked closely with.

Funny how my Bestie is willing to work at my heart to ask questions to push my mind to walk down paths it didn't know existed allowing my words to come where I knew no words to be.  Have I mentioned that my Bestie has walked this road with these same people and she still honestly searches my heart? 

Thoughts left behind

I process best through writing.  Often as I sit it seems as though my fingers have a mind of there own and as I write I find myself agreeing with the words on the screen as if a veil has been removed and suddenly my thoughts are clear.  And so here I process, my raw exposed heart pored out to you dearest boys, flesh of my flesh and heart of my heart.  I leave these thoughts after I am done with them in hopes that some day you can maybe understand my heart a bit more and possibly even learn from it.

Hear, my son, your father's instruction and do not forsake your mother's teaching; Indeed, they are a graceful wreath to your head and ornaments about your neck.

~ Proverbs 1:8-9