The Boss

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There is a reason the ladies love you. You love well. Better than anyone else I know, in fact. You have a brave heart , I know this because it takes a ton of courage to be gentle, and you do it well. You are the king of our sandcastles, and the builder of our dreams. I thank God for you. I truly do. I thank him that you are the father that our kids get to have. Oh, how blessed they are! And so , yes, you are the boss, the hero, the larger than life head of our family. But, you are also…quick to forgive and slow to anger, giving and loving. You will cry unashamedly  at a Disney movie, but you will also stand up and fight for justice ,and fairness when it is called for. Our children’s hearts are safe with you. I am grateful.  Oh yeah, the boys love you too. They would follow you anywhere. 

 

Sand Castles

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For as long as I can remember Thomas plays the same game with the kids at the beach. They build a sand castle , they create walls around it, moats and towers . Sometimes there is seaweed to adorn the corners, maybe shells . The point of this game is to work as hard as you can to build a structure that the tide doesn’t take down. The kids run around like engineers calling out -we have a breach on the front wall!! And then they build it back up. Sometimes , the tide is too strong, or the castle has been built to close to the sea, and we lose it altogether. I never knew how big a deal, how important a memory this was , until this year. Man child suggested we go down one evening and build… They threw themselves into the sand castle like it was the most important thing in the world. Everyone doing their own jobs. And this year we introduced the newest member of the family to our tradition.  

     To my babies who are not babies, and to Layla who holds my heart ,

We will build you , we will guide you, and support you, adding the wet sand of love and strength to your structure until you are strong enough to stand on your own. A beautiful creation , to be marveled at.  And when the tide comes in , and it will , without fail, and it threatens to tear you down, wash you away, we will be there to support your walls. We will help you repair the breaches , and rebuild when neccessary. I could have never known 20 years ago , when Thomas started this tradition , what exactly it would mean to me. One more reason I adore him. 

Salt -n- Sand 

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there is something to be said for air… that is salty and water…. that washes you clean. It’s only been 1 day of vacation , and already I’ve watched… The love of a good father , riding the waves, fear small , smiles big. An uncle only 13 years old take the hand of a baby… leading her.  A mama, though young, spreading sand on her baby’s legs, laughing with the knowing that …TODAY is enough. Man child , and big blue eyed girl running for the pier , oh my , all in one day … Joy that is Big, GIANT … In  all its tired, beautiful, fun, salty , tearful , beautiful realness. I’ve seen pain, and I’ve seen joy. I’m thankful, I’m grateful , I’m not wasting one minute on anything other than love, and the one who created me for it. 

I’m just a girl

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Im just a girl, a 41 year old girl. A girl with a husband , and kids, and yes… Even a granddaughter . I have feelings, and they get hurt.  I have memories, and they make me sentimental. I have hopes and dreams, and although I’m not always talking about them, it doesn’t mean they are smaller than yours. I have love. I have it to give , and have done so freely. I’m just a girl , finding my way, learning more about myself every day. I have friends, I’ve learned not to be inclusive. It does not gel with what I say I know about Jesus. It doesn’t gel with what I’m learning about love. I’m just a girl … In the world, a new girl, a strong girl , a girl who tries, fails, falls, cries, hopes, loves, lives, rebounds, renews, reveals…walks upright in a sideways world. 

Unexpected gifts. 

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The other day I opened my email to find this. A friend from church who uses the same bible app as I do had created a verse image. I must have read it 15 times. 

When I was old enough for love, the lord wrapped me in his. He bound himself to me in  a love that could never be undone. A promise that could not be broken. Through the valleys and the shadows , we remained tethered, him and me. It is now , within the past few years that I have begun to realize the beautiful things that he has adorned me with.  There is a golden shine that comes with being loved. I wear that now. And I recognize it in and on others around me. The look of love, the look of knowing without a doubt that you are loved. 

Woke up wanted. 

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There was a time when all I wanted was to be wanted. As the wife, as the mom, as the friend, as the singer, as the writer, as the funny one, the pretty one… 

     It wasn’t this morning, it’s been occurring morning after morning for a long time. I’ve been waking up wanted . I woke up to the realization of what being wanted translates to for me…  It’s being Loved. Big, boldly, with complete abandon , laid down.  

I don’t know why it took so long to fully wrap my heart around it. Maybe because love is a journey down a long and winding path, instead of a quick walk across the street. I wish I could go back and tell the girl I was at 14 , that it was all going to be ok, that she was loved by a love so ancient and huge , that time was on her side,  and that her love story was being written by the author of the world. Only God knows the beginning and the end. I would tell her then what I know now … You are wanted, you are loved. You always have been. Your name was KNOWN  as the foundations of the earth were poured . You there, at the post office, at the elementary school, making lunch , walking down the hall in your highschool,  and you there still in your bed….you are wanted.

Tending, toiling…sewing seeds

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Just doing a little gardening in the spirit today. Seeds, prayers and time with the lord. Plant the seed of honesty in belle , plant the seed of knowing. Knowing who she is even when there is no mirror to look in and no friend to tell her. The seed of knowing . Plant the seed of vision. That she would be able to see around corners, to see the bigger picture than just today. Plant the seed of worship and warfare , that her need to love on you with her whole heart would grow strong like vine that can’t be cut away. Plant the seed of woman’s intuition in heart, let it grow into a beautiful and plentiful garden. A place where her children and grandchildren will come for nourishment and rest, a place where they will learn and wonder about your ways. 

Plant the seed of peace in Isaiah’s heart, peace in turmoil, and peace in struggle . Lord I ask you to plant the seed of love , a seed that will grow into a tree no man can take down. A tree whose branches will give shelter to generations to come. That the roots would be so strong that his name would be written in your book of faithful. That the children who sit under his shade would never feel less than. That they would look up at the sky through the magnificent tree that he has become and know that they are enough. 
Plant the seed of wholeness in Sidney’s heart, a tiny seed that will take root and start to grow . A seed that will bring a whole forest of wholeness, no broken thing. Plant the seed of forgiveness in Sidney’s heart for the wrongs done to her, let that be the start. Plant the seed of mommy love in the rich soil that she has already been tending to , let her love for Layla be stronger than her love for anything else, except you. Plant the seed of responsibility, for her actions as well as for the future. Her heart will grow an enchanted forest where her children and their children can run and play and laugh and grow. 
And lord plant the seed of identity deep in Layla’s heart, that her identity , her legacy would be deeply rooted even now, never swept away in a fast moving wind. Plant the seed of love , bigger than the ocean ! The seed of receiving love and the seed of giving it out to those who need it. Plant in her the ability to be a seer, to look deeper into someone than their circumstance and see their spirit. Plant in her the seed of understanding , that even from an early age she would recognize spiritual things. Give her strength and long life , give her a true love and a mamas heart. Water the garden that is her heart. 
Plant the seed of dreams in Adams heart. Dreams that become his future, plant the seeds of honesty and kindness. Honesty even when it’s tough, and kindness for those times when none can be found. Plant the seed of patience in his soul , the understanding that wisdom takes time to grow. Plant these seeds that will grow him into a mighty oak of a man. A place of rest and peace for his wife and children . And for his children’s children. That his countenance would be a standard that they set for themselves as well. That he would be an elder in his community and in his family . 
Mothers plant seeds into the soil of their children’s hearts, they tend it, they toil over it, they get sun burned and bone tired, but watching those seeds grow make every bit of it worth it. I count every day with you guys as joy. 
You sitting in your car, or hiding out in your bathroom, you at the end of your rope, or at the top of your game… Plant that seed, the one you’ve been holding on to, waiting for the right season. It’s here. Now, watch it grow. It’s hard work, this kind of gardening, but it gives way to a harvest! 

Memorial Stones

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Ladies I wrote this in 2013, and after today’s tea time I wanted to repost it!

angie wirthlin's avatarAmwirth.blog

stones

You call us to walk into territory that is not our own….we ask, we pray, maybe we cry…we fear. And then you lift our chins so that we can see what is before us, there you are, there it is….again. You have carried us through, and delivered us.

Twelve stones you say, a memorial display …for our children, and our children’s children, a story to tell , words and memories of how we nearly fell. And when they ask how me made it , how we overcame…we will point them to you.

In Joshua 4, the Lord tells the Israelites to pick out 12 stones and carry them from place to place , and then to lay them down in each place where they made camp. The Lord delivers them again and again. He tells them that the stones will be a memorial for their children to see what HE…

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Thank you mama….

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Thank you mama….

For holding me when I wanted to be held
For working so hard
For hearing me call for you , even when I didn’t speak 
For putting up with me through all my phases. 
For telling me how beautiful I am
And for believing it
For showing me that dancing in the kitchen is good, and might just be what keeps us alive. 
For always seeing the woman I was supposed to be, and not just the girl  I was.
For instilling in my core, that love is all there is, all there was, all we ever needed, and all we can hope to be. 
For all of this, and for tickling my arms and mending my heart so many times…. Thank you. Happy Mothers Day from one broken, redeemed, tired, and grateful mama to another one.