Two Teen

Dearest Collin,

The day is upon us. Tomorrow, you will become my second teenager.  As is always the case, I feel that this year has flown by and tomorrow could not possibly be your birthday again. As is always the case, I cannot slow time down, and tomorrow is your birthday again.  Time is cruel in that way.

I want you to know that I have loved this last year with you, watching you grow and mature.  I have loved this past year, because in some ways, time has been kind, and although you're a big kid, you still hold on to some of that younger-child joy.  There's a sparkle in your eye when you wonder that I hope you never lose, like I believe you will never lose your love of dinosaurs.  My momma heart hopes you hold onto that as long as possible.  The world as a whole makes us grow up sooner than we should, often times, and holding onto those special things that bring you joy is important, if you ask me.

I know that you do not always agree with me, but Collin, you are so smart.  So often, I will be talking about some random topic, and although I do not realize you're listening, from across the room, you will interject some random fact, or answer a question I hadn't even asked yet, and I absolutely adore that about you.  I love the way your mind works.  I find it to be an intriguing place, and I often muse about what kind of things are buried deep inside.  

I have enjoyed watching you grow in courage as well.  When you went to the youth group retreat this summer, I had a moment of tears, seeing you ready to experience something like that, far away from me, not knowing what to expect, but being full of anticipation.  I heard such wonderful things about you and the color you bring to people's lives when you are not with me.  

I love watching you with your cousins.  Although most of them are younger than you, you connect with them in fantastic ways.  One of my favorite moments of the summer cousin time was when one of your cousins told me that she knows you will protect her.   I loved watching the two of you laugh endlessly, then focus and discuss things on the couch together.  I just love seeing you "click" into place with people.  I love that more than one of your cousins has told me recently that they know you love them so very much.   

I love that we all know that even if there is tension sometimes, sibling bickering, or foul moods, you will ALWAYS have our backs.  You are always on our side.  You have fierce, unwavering love for the people you choose to love, and you would do anything you could to protect them.  We have seen it many times.  I pray that as you continue to grow in patience and wisdom, you will be able to discern the right time and way to stand up for those you care for.    

I know that you are going to do big things in this world.  I know that you are going to continue to live a life of inquisitive discovery, and that you are going to find special ways to leave a lasting mark.  I know that you are passionate for making this world a better place, that you love the environment, nature, animals, and more.  I have seen the fire in your spirit when you hear or see injustice.  

As always, there are struggles in each year that we live and grow, but really, Collin, this last year was so wonderful overall.  You have become more patient, and less quick to react in many situations.  I know that it has been a hard road to get to this point, and I have seen you work incredibly hard to be where you are.  I know that it isn't always easy and that mistakes will be made, but I also know you learn from each of them.  

I pray that in this coming year, as a teenager, you continue to find passions and interests in new and exciting things.  The world is still opening up for you, and there are countless opportunities ahead of you to find what brings you joy.  

I pray that you continue to have patience, grace, and kindness for those around you, and that each day, you feel patience, grace, and kindness toward you as well.  You give some of the very best hugs on the planet, and I pray that you never stop sharing that gift with me and the many others who love them too.  

I pray that while you grow stronger, you continue to grow gentler as well, and are able to find the balance in each moment.  I pray that your love of nature, of cats, and the rest of the world around you continues to deepen.  

I pray that you are always able to find safe spaces and comfort in your environment.  

I pray that while your mind continues to race, it also continues to learn to rest. 

I pray that you and your siblings continue to grow up, but grow together, and use these next years to solidify your bond that will carry you through the rest of your lives.  Siblings are a priceless treasure, and I pray that you all always know that you can count on one another. Always. 

I pray that as you continue on in middle school, you find your people- the ones you know will have your back just like you do for so many that you love. I pray that you will find yourself as part of the larger community of peers, and never as an outsider.  

I pray that even though you sometimes feel different, you realize we are all unique, and even in your differences, you truly, completely belong.

I pray you will continue to be proud to be my son and never embarrassed to be with me.  There's something so wonderful about the fact that you are still willing to hold my hand while walking sometimes.  I love that you tell me you love me in the drop off lane at school as you exit the car- even if occasionally you're in a grumpy morning mood.

I pray that these teenage years are a lot of fun. I know there's potential for... moods, and stuff... that comes with the age, but I also know that there's potential for SO. MUCH. FUN.  It has already been a joy seeing our relationship grow and evolve as time ebbs on.  

I pray you will always let me call you Ollie Bear, even if it's eventually only in secret.

Collin, my love, the world is a better place with you in it.  Never let yourself believe otherwise. 

I pray that being a teenager is all you dream it will be, and so much more.  

You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm so glad you're mine.

Love,

Mom

 

Tween

 

Hey, Girlfriend,

Here we are... at yet another transition.  I didn't google it or anything, but in my mind, this birthday marks the transition from big kid to tween.  Is that how it goes? Tonight, you go from ten to eleven.  It really isn't that much older, but it feels like a big transition somehow.

Norah, you are one of the greatest humans I've ever met. You are full of spice and spunk, laughter, and love. You radiate joy with your smiling eyes and your bounding laughter.  You are SO, SO loud, I like to think your joy carries far beyond who can see you in front of them.  I hear from so many people that they see your light in your smile, in your dance, in your eyes.  It makes me so proud to call you my own.  I try not to get too full of myself, but I like to think that my goal of raising good humans is coming to fruition with each year that passes.  

Sure, now that you're becoming a tween, you're also... a little... well, you know. Emotions happen.  We struggle some days, but our communication within our little family is pretty top-notch most of the time, so we get through even the biggest rollercoaster days. 

We are all learning a little more about empathy and grace these days, I think.  We all work as a team to try to remember to pause and not react, and when we do react, to react with kindness and understanding. It's a wild ride watching all of my littles go from three kids four and younger, to three kids entering their teenage years.  So many people talk about how teenage years are hard, and I know that's true, but so far, for the most part, I am enjoying this phase of life.  It's been so fun to see personalities change and emerge. You, my daughter, are also my friend, and the person I spend the most time with outside of work.  You still think I'm fun and hilarious, and you seek me out more than anyone else I know.  I know that we have had talks about how I'm still trying to navigate that, being a somewhat independent person, and that your need for me, your desire to be around me frequently, to have my eyes and ears on you, is a sign that we have a great relationship.  I tell myself it must mean I am a good mom.  I am truly blessed when you (and your brother) reaffirm that.  I promise that in this next year, I will try my best to slow down and be in those little moments with you, the ones you crave even though I don't necessarily understand it (within reason, of course).

But really, you're my daughter and my girlfriend. I love our coffee & smoothie dates, cruising in the car singing at the top of our lungs, laughing about ridiculous nonsense.  I love that our sense of humor is similar and our sarcasm is complimentary, so we can tell when we are being silly snarky with one another.  I love that we can (usually) read each other's expressions and know things without words being spoken.  I love sharing a room with you and I find it utterly fascinating you feel the same way.  I didn't expect it.  I love creating with you. I love watching TV with you. I love fighting over the affection of our cats with you.

And that's just me. You are so many things to so many people. Your brothers are blessed by you and your love for them even when you don't get along.  I know you would each stand up for the others when time gets hard.  I've seen you have each other's backs when it feels like others turn away. Your besties are blessed by you and your silly inside jokes, dances, and hand-shakes.  Your teachers are blessed by you and your sense of community, compassion, and inclusion.  Your cousins are blessed by your unconditional love that surpasses all geography and ages.  Your aunts, uncles, grandparents, and chosen family are blessed in the same way.  Animals all over the place are blessed by you and how your excessive energy can be calmed in an instant so that a furry friend will seek you out almost anywhere we go. You are full of empathy and compassion. You see the unseen.  You have a creative, unique, problem-solving mind that brings goodness to this world.

You're a treasure- a mutli-faceted gem.  

Having once been a pre-teen (I didn't know the word "tween" when I was younger, shocking, I know.. the [late] 1900s were really something...) I know that the next few years are going to be full of self-discovery, conflict, and resolution.  Your sense of self may be challenged in unexpected ways. You may cry a lot of tears over a lot of things, both inconsequential and significant, and it all really does matter.  Friendship lines may blur and change, but I pray you'll remember to always be a good friend to those around you.  I pray that you never harbor hatred in your heart. I pray that you embrace forgiveness, but also firm boundaries to protect your heart.  I pray you are able to tune out the lies you may be tempted to believe about yourself, and hold firm to the truth.  I hope that you are always able to know when to be serious and when to be silly, who to joke with and when, and that it is a rarity to hurt another person's feelings. 

You are brave. You are strong. You are fierce.  This world has thrown some really big stones your way, but you've knocked them down or climbed over each one, and not a single thing can break you if you hold onto who you really are inside. I know it. 

Girl, you're going to move mountains and change atmospheres.  I can't wait to see it.

Keep sprinkling kindess. Keep splashing sunshine.

I love you.

More.

Most.

(Your brothers too, even though you don't always like them, and I have to remind you they're also my favorite people. We'll keep working on it.)

You dazzle me.

YTBTTEHTMAISGYM.

Hahahaha.  I hope I got that right.

But yes, "it's possible."

Always,

Your Momma

Another Dozen Years

 Dearest Ollie Bear,

I wonder how long it will be before you ask me to stop calling you “Ollie Bear.”  I hope that you never do, but I understand that as you get older, things like that may be less acceptable, so I’m holding on to that nickname as long as I can.

As you lay in bed tonight, wrapped up in your blanket, with Mr. Cuddles and books strewn about your bed, you look so young, but so much bigger than I remember you being not all that long ago.  In the last year, you’ve not only grown taller, but more patient, focused, and mature.  I’ve watched you deal with complicated situations and heated emotions with more grace than ever before.  I’ve seen you kneel down to the eye level of younger kids and help direct them in clear, loving, rational ways.  I’ve seen the amount of impulses you act upon decrease in number as the days wind onward. You’ve walked long, difficult roads, for many years, and come so very far.

Mister Collin, you bring such depth and variety to my life, but also the lives of countless others around you.  This year, you’ve started middle school, which was an emotional transition for both of us.  You’ve left such a lasting mark on the hearts and minds of so many in your days, however, that there were emotions and questions and anecdotes and memories shared with me by so many of the elementary teachers  and staff that you left behind as you go forward on the new journey.  Watching them all hug you on the first day of school this year, as we took your sister to her final elementary year, brought tears to my eyes.  They trickled down my cheeks after I watched you step out of the car and walk bravely to the new school where you will meet an entirely new set of people to leave a mark upon.  I pray that it’s a positive, beautiful mark, and that you can touch their lives as you have so many teachers and staff before them.  I get such joy hearing all sorts of Collin stories.  You really liven up this life.

You are such a smart dude.  The amount of information you are able to bring to us is incredible, and listening to you and your older brother discuss more complicated topics than you have in the past makes me grin in the other room as I listen in quietly.

I’ve enjoyed learning new things about you over the course of this last year.  Just recently, I found out your favorite song is “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” by Tears for Fears, which intrigues me greatly.  It sure does bring a smile to my face to see you run to the room the song is playing from and do your little bee-bop dancing as you sing along.  I really have no attachment to the song and could go my life without hearing it again, but then I wouldn’t have those moments of watching the joy it brings to you. I love that you found an interest in playing the trombone in the school band last year, and that you’ve become quite a talented artist, bringing your unconditional love for dinosaurs to drawings I find throughout the apartment and car. 

You still have such a quick sense of humor, but also a clever set of problem solving skills that have become quicker as days go by.  It’s been another fun thing to watch you really tap into. 

You’ve become braver over the last year and really been more open to trying new things.  It’s been a joy to watch you realize new loves, likes, and even dislikes.  The world is such an expansive place and with so many experiences to immerse yourself in, and I love that you’re willing to approach it in ways you haven’t in the past. I love that you realized you love steak… and bacon- lots of bacon.

I love that you’re almost always up for some kind of adventure (even if it takes a little coaxing) and that you still let me take your picture even if you don’t really want me to.

I love that you still love to hug with full force and wreckless, loving, abandon.  I love that you still like to snuggle me.  I love that you still rest your head on my shoulder as we sit on the couch.  I love that you remind me you love me.  I love reminding you the same.

Collin, I can’t wait to see what your next year brings.  The first dozen have shown developed a love in me like no other and helped me see the world through so many different lenses and filters.  You’ve taught me deeper patience and understanding.  I have seen you bring those same gifts to others in all areas of your life. 

I pray that your next year is filled with life-altering and personality-solidifying experiences, but I mean that in the best ways.  I know you’ve had enough heartbreak and trauma in your first twelve years.  I (perhaps unrealistically, because we know how the world can be) hope that only great and beautiful things fill this next year of your life.  If, by chance, some less than wonderful things happen, I hope you can find the beauty in them, at least looking back at them, if it is hard to as you go through.

I pray that you make life-long friends and supportive, positive relationships in middle school. I hope you find your niche and your people and that you sense safety in those spaces and communities.  I pray that your mind is enriched greatly by all the new things you will learn and do. I hope you love your middle school years.  I hope your year twelve is the best one yet.

Thank you for being a beacon of unconditional love, not only for me and your family and friends, but even for many who have “wronged” you or caused heartache in the past.  Recently, we were discussing a person that, at the time, was incredibly difficult to continue interacting with, and you remarked how they were a good person.  It stopped me in my tracks and I tasted the bitterness in my spirit and realized that you were right, they are likely a good person, even if our experience with them was pretty wretched overall.  

I hope you can continue to easily forgive others and to not hold grudges that weigh on your heart.

I love you, my Ollie Bear- more than you’ll ever know.

Happy Birthday, Buddy.

You’re the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m so glad you’re mine.

-Mom

Ten Years of Sunshine

 Miss Norah,

You just hugged me goodnight, and I reminded you that you’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.  You went to your bed, one last time as a nine-year-old, with a glimmer in your eye that sparkles the anticipation of tomorrow.

I don’t know if I’ve told you in person how I’ve always thought of you as my Sunshine baby.  Your oldest brother was my first miracle and the answer to a lifetime of prayers.  After he was born, I lost a baby while I was pregnant.  When a baby is born after a loss like that, the next child born is considered a rainbow baby.  Your second brother was the rainbow after the storm.

You, my girl, have always been the sunshine that followed. 

I know I have told you how you were a big surprise, from the moment I found out I was pregnant with you, to the ultrasound where I was told you were a girl (after I was so certain I was meant to be a “boy mom” and never have a daughter), to the day you were born where you proved to me you really are a girl.  You were unexpected to me, but God knew what He was doing, and you were the perfect completion to my set of answered prayers.  

You have always brought the sunshine.  You bring it to me, but also to others.  You sparkle and you shine from the inside outward.  You have the most brilliant heart of gold, seeing what others often miss or overlook, and make sure that people who might go unnoticed see that they are important.  So many times, you’ve asked to give money, food, a hug, a gift, a blanket, your time, and your love to those around you- whether you know them or not.  You make my own heart swell with pride.

You are not only my daughter, but in some ways, you’re my friend.  You are my sidekick for errands, snuggles, and creating.  You have an amazing sense of humor and joyous laughter.  You sing your heart out every single day.  You are ready for pranks and silliness but also for serious talks and matters of the heart.

You are a delight to your brothers, even when you may not be getting along.  They have always been fierce protectors and know that you are their own. You reciprocate the same for them, and it blesses me to know that you will always have each other’s backs even when I’m not around.  

You brighten the lives of your extended family and your friends.  Animals love you too!  It’s amazing to see how so many are drawn to you and appreciate what you bring to this world.

The last year has been wonderful, but also sometimes a struggle, for as you start to mature, I’m having to get to know new sides of you.  Your interests and style have begun to change, and I must admit, when it first started, it threw me for such a loop that I felt maybe I was living in a dream.  The predictability of your long-time childhood passions began to fade away to reveal what your young lady heart and mind find joy in now.  

Because you are my only daughter, its taken some getting used to new facets of your personality, some of the sass, and unpredictability of older-girl emotions.  I pray that as you continue to grow and some things continue to change, we will both be blessed with unlimited patience and compassion for one another as we figure it all out together.  Your brothers are included in that prayer too.  In some ways, now that you are all growing up to be big kids, preteens, and teenagers, we are all getting to know each other in news ways all over again.  Some days this home is definitely chaotic and we feel a little overwhelmed, but I’m so grateful we are all lead by love and Jesus and I know we can get through any tough times together.

I know from experience that being a ten-year-old girl is not always easy.  I know that being in fourth and fifth grade with other girls can be a challenge and like riding an emotional rollercoaster set up inside of an unpredictable wave pool. I pray that your heart doesn’t take anything thrown your way as an attack on your identity, and you’re always able to remember that the other girls your age are all going through similar things alongside you, and it can just be a stormy mess sometimes.  There will be rainbows and sunshine after the storms if you hold on tight- I promise.

I have loved watching you flourish academically, artistically, musically, socially, and in your faith.  You are a gem with so many beautiful facets.

As we close out your first decade of life, I hope that you know I am always on your side, even when you might not see or feel that is truth.  I pray you never let the world dull your sparkle and extinguish your light.  I pray the atmosphere changes when you walk into a room because you carry the love of Jesus within you.  I pray that you find your tribe and make lifelong memories that you can look back on when you’re an older woman, like the many I share with you about my years as a young girl. 

I love you, Miss Norah.  I’m so grateful for the ten years of Sunshine I’ve already been given. I cannot wait to see what’s in store.

I’m so glad you’re mine.

Love you most.

-Mom

First-teen

 Dearest Spencer,

Here we are again, at the end of another era, the beginning of another milestone, an old familiar, but oh so different place than we were 365 days ago.

Tonight, you close off your first dozen years and you will wake up as an official teenager.

Not kid, not pre-teen, but a teenager.

Wow.

I know I’ve been calling you a “teen” for a few months now and joking about rounding up, but it hits so much harder tonight. 

We have talked many times about how we are both learning as we go, growing as we go, and figuring this journey out together, and it still rings true.  I finally feel like I have a decent grasp on having big kids instead of little kids, instead of toddlers, instead of babies, and here we are, a new juncture, and it’s off to the races as we veer into the years of having teenagers.  You’re the forerunner, obviously.  I hope that the years are good to us, the disagreements and stresses are few and are between, and the laughter and hugs are countless.

Realistically, I know it won’t likely be all wildflowers, sunshine and rainbows, but I pray that it’s more wildflowers, sunshine and rainbows that torrents, deluges, and gale forces. I pray that it’s more dancing than falling, that’s for sure.

It has been such a joy watching you grow and transform before my eyes.  I have been reliving old photos and videos at night lately, thinking about how you were the answer to my biggest prayer- that I could be a momma.  I think about how your blue eyes have sparkled looking back at mine for the past dozen years, and how familiar that is to me, and how it ignites sparks inside my heart.  

Watching your personality blossom has been another treasure to me.  I remember when you were so much younger, and it was harder to tap into “your brave” and there were many things you just wouldn’t do.  There were many things you wouldn’t do alone, but you were braver with me by your side.  I was your steady and your charge when you were hesitant or leery of whatever was going on around you or what was being asked of you.  Your meek, little voice still echoes in my head.

But now… I’ve recently come to the realization that you may be braver without me.  I think about the fact that you were ready and willing to attend three different camps or retreats this past summer, with three different groups of people, in three different states, all without me, all with very little contact to me, and how you flourished and thrived and each one chiseled you into the young man you are turning into, a little bit at a time.  I loved seeing you again for the first time, each time, and how you would come to me, arms wide open, with a huge grin, and tell me you missed me.  It was unexpected each time, but they were threes heaven-sent moments. 

Another thing that has been a delight in regard to those excursions, is hearing other people tell me how wonderful they think you are.  You were reported to be very kind, thoughtful, hilarious, and fun.  Many of us have enjoyed watching you come out of your shell more and more. (As a side note, have I told you that I am so proud of you for starting to let more people “in” on all areas of your life including your thoughts, emotions, fears, joys, and triumphs?  I am.  You have spent many years guarding these parts of yourself, for reasons I do understand, but you’ve been slowly breaking down your walls, and it’s a magnificent thing to experience.)

As I realized these things recently, you and I had a discussion about how you feel more relaxed and open going to youth group nights by yourself, instead of with me there.  Surprisingly enough, it didn’t hurt my feelings at all, but made me so proud of you for your honesty and bravery.  You’ve climbed quite the hill in your years, and it’s amazing to see you reaching the pinnacle and I cannot wait to see where you go when you get closer. I don’t know if one every really reaches the hypothetical summit, but if you do, I’ll be here cheering you on for that as well.

In another side of your personality, I love listening to you experiment with your instruments.  I cannot tell you how big I grinned when I heard you play a little diddy on guitar that sounded like the solo to my favorite song. Your teachers at school all tell me how great you are as well, and that they are proud of you.  I know, personally, music is one of my best friends, like a cozy blanket that understands me no matter what my mood or life circumstance is.  I feel that it may be similar for you as well.  One thing that you possess that I don’t though, is the ability to pull music out of thin air, play by ear, or goof around and have it still sound good. I might be a tiny bit jealous in that aspect. 

Lately, I’ve been trying to give you more independence and trust, inch by inch, because you are older and should be gaining more responsibility and independence as we go along, but sometimes, that’s hard for me, and I apologize if I come off as overprotective or untrusting.  The world we live in continues to change into one that seems crazier and more uncertain than the one I grew up in, and I’m always trying to navigate how that should look so far as parenting goes.  As you know, and have said in the past, I’m pretty much doing it myself, and often I second guess or doubt myself and whether I am doing it right, or good enough, and so forth.  Thank you for being patient with me.  (I will admit, however, that I love the moments where you’re not “too cool” or “too old” to do things that are still whimsical and fun.  Tonight, for example, we had the perfect balance of going trick-or-treating with family, but then the independence to go again on your own for a while.)

With that said, I promise to continue to try to extend my own patience with you. I know there are times when I am less than patient and certainly not perfect in how I approach things.  I joke occasionally about how I was once a middle school or teenage girl, but I was never a middle school or teenage boy, so I don’t always know how to decode what you’re hinting at and I don’t often quite understand what you’re feeling.  I will continue to try to learn the balance between giving you privacy, but also holding you accountable.  Clearly, this stage of our lives is going to be a work in progress, possibly the entire time.

Spencer, I think you’re truly amazing, and the world is so blessed to have you in it.  I have loved watching your faith start growing in different ways, trying new things, and enjoying new experiences.  I loved getting you a Bible this summer, and each time you tell me about a verse or story you’ve found interesting brings me even more joy.  Thank you for what you’re willing to share, and know I understand that a faith life is personal too, and I respect that I cannot and will not always get to know everything.  That’s new to me too.  I’m so used to the little kid information overload that the preteen and teenage withholding feels a bit foreign still.

Thank you for loving like you do.  Thank you for giving me hugs for no reason, out of nowhere, and when I’m sad.  Thank you for all the fun we have in the car going to or from school, and for obliging when I ask too many questions about your day.  Thank you for your wonderful sense of humor that feels so much like my own, and for the respect you show asking if you can tell jokes before just blurting them out.  That probably seems or sounds silly, but it just shows me that you respect boundaries of others.

Thank you for going out of your way to help others, whether it is you giving a little of your spending cash to another student on a trip, or respectfully assisting someone who may be less physically agile due to injury, age, illness, or other reasons.  I have heard accounts of both of these things, and many others, when they’ve happened and I’m not around.  There’s nothing quite like hearing something wonderful your child did when they didn’t need to impress or prove anything to others.  Thank you for holding doors and carrying in one more grocery bag yourself so I don’t have to- without being asked.  

As bittersweet as it is to see you continue to grow up, I am truly excited to see what the future holds.  I don’t want to say goodbye to the childhood years where you need more care than independence, more cuddles than thumbs up, but I know it’s going to be a beautiful thing as you continue to grow older and our relationship starts to take on more friendship qualities as well.  

Thanks for the abundance of random information that you spout out with no rhyme or reason.  Believe it or not, I do the same thing to others.  

I pray this year brings you boundless laughter, new favorite songs, interesting additional friends, and a real sense of who you are, as a child of God, a son of mine, a brother, a grandson, a nephew, and a friend.  You are a delight to me, even on our harder days.  

Love you more,

Mom (not Bruh)

The Middle Eleven

 My dearest Collin,

You are ten tonight.  Tomorrow, you will be eleven. You’re entering the preteen years, and I sit here, watching you play with the cats, in utter disbelief.  How did we reach this milestone?  

This past year, you have grown so much. You’ve gotten taller, wiser, funnier, smarter, braver, and even a little bit calmer.  In the last year, you’ve learned much about the way your mind works, which has allowed you to understand the world a little bit better, I think.  It’s helped you understand yourself in a deeper level, which has helped your relationships grow.  It’s been such a revelatory year. 

Just a few months ago, for example, we had a moment where you finally were able to articulate why you refuse to eat cereal out of bowls like the rest of us.  You told me, frankly, that you cannot stand the sound of our metal spoons scraping against the plastic bowls.  It was such an easy fix, and our relationship grew because of it.

For almost the entirety of your eleven years, you’ve loved trains, dinosaurs, building, and books.  Recently, you’ve been surprising me with new interests and it has been so much fun seeing those develop.  You told me the other day that you want to try band and play the trombone. I honestly was shocked, because you’ve never really shown a deep interest in music. Now, you do love some songs or melodies, and you latch onto those and could listen to them for days on end, but in general, you don’t engage in music very often.  The other day, you were even singing! You made me promise not to tell people that, sorry, I just let it slip.  I’ve enjoyed seeing you bring home drawings from school this year, as well.  I think you maybe got some of your momma’s creative abilities in there.

Collin, you have such a brilliant mind. You are one of the smartest fifth graders I know.  When you say things like you aren’t good at math, it boggles me, because you are actually quite good at it even if it doesn’t come as easy to you as some other subjects. I know fourth grade was super rough, relationship wise especially, but I have such high hopes and can see such great things coming for you in this year ahead. I am so excited to see where this year leads you!

I have loved watching you continue to love on littles around you, at daycare, at church, and in our family.  You have such a heart for younger children, and babies seem to be your calm place (until they’re crying).  My heart melts when you sit and relax with a baby on your lap.

You're a fierce defender of all people and things that are important to you. You stand up for people when they are wronged, even if it gets you into a little trouble. Watching you guard the wedding rings at your aunt and new uncle's wedding a few weeks ago showed that protective side, too, as you told people you would guard them with your life. I loved you even more that day, too. 

As I said, we have had some trials over the last year, as always, but I refuse to sit and dwell on those.  I know that you replay things over and over in your mind, failures especially, but I want you to know that I see you beyond the missteps, poor choices, struggles, and hard times.  I see the real you.  I see your kind, loving, wonderful heart.

Perhaps one of my favorite moments of this last year was on baptism Sunday, when you went from hesitant to exceptionally excited in the blink of an eye.  We had talked off and on over the course of the week before about why you wanted to be baptized, and you didn’t really know what you wanted to say.  When you were asked, there in the water, you had the most profound, well spoken answer- you know you are under God’s wing.  You elaborated more than that, and it was poetic.  My heart could have exploded in that moment, and when I baptized you in the water and you sprung back up to life and hugged me, there was no greater moment.

Mister man, I want you to know that I will always continue to pray over you and for you.  In the coming year, I pray that you know that you are good, inside and out, and you always feel that you belong in this world. I know that the world can be a hard place and people can try to break you down, but I pray that you have been built up by those who love you most, God included, that you know you will not be broken. You always have a safe place in my arms, and I will always be here to listen to your tears.  I might not always have the perfect words to say, but I pray when I do not, you can hear God’s voice.  

I pray that you laugh so much this year that your sides hurt and your eyes water, you slap your knees, and you have to catch your breath.  Laughter is one of my favorite sounds and I think you have such a great sense of humor.  I pray that you are filled daily with hugs and kind smiles from those around you.  I pray you never feel lost in this world and always know who will guide you, especially if you feel alone.  I pray that you can see the great things you have already accomplished and take excited comfort in knowing there’s so much more in store for you.

I pray this a year unlike any other, and you really, truly, get to know how wonderful you are.

It has been a long eleven years. It has been a quick eleven years.  It’s been such a blessing.  I am so grateful that God gave me you, all those years ago.

You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m so glad you’re mine.

Love you more,

Mom

The last single digit..

 Miss Norah,

The day is almost near. It's a day you've been waiting for somewhat patiently for months. Your birthday. Again. Didn't you just have one? And must you keep reminding me that you are turning nine?

Nine. My baby girl, my unexpected sunshine, is on the verge of her last single-digit birthday. You won't stop reminding me. I can't believe I've been a mom this long. 

The last year has been a year of growth in many ways. You seem so much taller, your hair thicker, darker, straighter. You're less baby-faced and more muscular. You're so strong, physically, mentally, and emotionally. You have faced your biggest academic struggles head on and threw down the walls of your heart in order to conquer them. 

You are such a compassionate little sister to both of your brothers. When someone picks on one, you stand by his side. You know how to calm him, reach him, and understand him, when sometimes even I don't. You are one of his safest spaces, even if some days you do more fighting than laughing. You have such forgiveness in your heart for when you are wronged. 

You know how to pester your oldest brother in a way that's filled with love, and the two of you have such a great relationship in that way. You stand up for him, but also to him when necessary, and you keep each other accountable. 

The three of you are a beautiful team. You've begun to grow in your communication skills, relating, and friendship, just as you've been growing in your capacity to irritate each other. Clearly, God made you to be a unit. 

Your almost nine years of experience living through hard situations alongside your brothers and I has helped you to be such a kind cousin and friend. 

Every one of the cousins you spend time with adores you for various reasons. You may be older than all but one of them, but you love each of them well for who they are, and you can tell how much they appreciate who you are. I adore watching you play together. I love that your cousins are some of your best friends. 

Your friends are so blessed as well. You have friends of all different ages, races, backgrounds, and abilities, and you treat each one with value and respect. Your experiences with your brothers have shaped your compassion and empathy and ability to embrace and cherish other kids who are neurodivergent which is something that the world needs more of and I am certain you are lighting the way for others around you. 

I love your heart for the suffering of others. When we see people on street corners holding up signs, you always want to help. Tonight, when we watched "the Hunchback of Notre Dame " you were filled with tears in the first few minutes as your heart broke for the injustice and suffering of one person cast out from the world. You spent most of the movie voicing how unkind people were and how unfair it was, because Quasimodo was beautiful to you with his cute, misshapen face. Your heart hurts for the hurting and you are not too proud to say so. I love watching you come alongside those who may be struggling, overlooked, or feel broken. 

This past year has been surreal in the way that you have become my little friend, not only my daughter. Sometimes, that's hard for you, when I have to parent in ways you don't appreciate, but as I have reminded, I'll always be your mom first, and friend second. But the development of our friendship has been such a blessing to both of us. I love sitting in the car with you to run errands as we laugh hysterically about something silly we said, or thought the other said, or a funny comment on the radio. We share similar interests in crafting and smoothies and have had many a date just the two of us when the boys turn us down. It's been a true delight. 

As you continue to mature, you continue to develop your own brand of sass and stubbornness, which while appreciated in some ways like in knowing you'll be able to stand your ground when you need to in years to come, and you won't just let others push you over and trample you, it has also been a bit of a struggle for me, learning to grow and figure out how to walk through it with you. In so many ways, I've found you are not like your brothers, and the things in little girl world are complex and deep many times. The one perk to going through these developments with you is that I too was a young girl once, so I relate just a little more than I do to some of the boys similar, but differing struggles. I have had to tell them that I was never a young boy, so sometimes I may need more clarity and understanding to know what is going on in their hearts and minds. 

Pip, I pray that this next year is absolutely splendid. I pray that it's filled with so much emotional rainbows and sunshine that you can hardly stand it. I pray that you can look back and see how far you've come in overcoming things in the past, and it gives you fortitude and courage for the future. 

I pray that your friendships continue to strengthen, despite the way young girl friendships ebb and flow, bend and break but then reform again, coming and going much like a tide. In the same way, I pray that those dearest friendships remain constant, also like the tide. 

I pray that you continue to see your inner and outer beauty in a world full of mirrors that are filtered to bring you down. I pray you see through that and only hold onto the mirrors that show the truth, and that builds you up. I pray I've done a good enough job filling your emotional storehouse of self-worth that you will never, ever believe you are anything less than beautiful and worthy. 

I pray the cats accidentally scratch you less and snuggle you more. I pray they really do eventually want to take pictures with you like you want to take pictures with them. 

I pray that as you and your brothers approach big years of growth, you remember who you all are deep down inside, and you can approach each other with mercy and endless grace. 

I pray that you hear the truth Jesus has spoken about you, and you hear his whispers regularly. 

Baby girl, not so much a baby, but yet, always my baby, 

I love you. 

You love me more...

But as I've told you, that's not possible. 

Happy birthday, Norah B. 

Love,

Momma

Our first dozen years.

 Dearest Spencer,

Is it true? It this really your last year before becoming an official teenager?  It doesn’t seem real at all, but the calendar and your height tell me it has to be reality.

You are awesome.  I hope you know that.  Deep in your heart, I hope you believe it, because it’s absolutely true.

I know that you struggle with feeling your value and seeing your worth sometimes.  We all do, really.  But Spencer, there are so many ways that you exhibit what an amazing human you are.  You notice people that others may overlook, and you are so kind to them.  You do little favors for people, or offer kindness in ways of help or gifts, even though you don’t think anyone’s watching.  So many times, I’ve heard about it, and you’ve always just shrugged, because to you, it wasn’t a big deal.  To them- it was huge.  You make a lasting impact in a positive way even when you’re not aiming to do so.  This happens more often than you’d think, and it makes my heart so very happy when I hear these things.  You make me so proud.

This year has been messy, as we have noticed almost every year is in some way, but overall, it’s been a good year.  With your maturity, we have been able to relate on deeper levels, and your sense of humor aligns even more with mine than ever before.  I have loved mornings and afternoons when it’s just us in the car and we can chat and joke around together.  You’re so quick witted, which shouldn’t be surprising to me, but somehow, you still find a way to catch me off guard.  I also find joy in taking selfies with you to commemorate our silly conversations, and secretly, have saved most of them in my phone.  Now you know.  I love when we have time some weeks to have special secret coffee and donut breakfasts before school and how it was a beautiful transition from the loss of lunches together in elementary school.

You’re a brilliant mind, kiddo.  I know that the transition into middle school is a little rough with new and heavier expectations, but I really believe that you will grow to love it more and more, and continue to meet people who you relate to and build lasting friendships with.  I’m so excited to see what your future holds academically.  I know I’ve told you in the past that I was smart and got great grades in school, and I like to think you get a lot of that from me, but I really can’t wait to see your potential unleashed because I can see that my ceiling will be your floor and you will accomplish so many great things in your life.  It’s interesting to me to listen to how your mind processes things, and it astounds me to see the ease at which you pick up on new skills and talents. 

 I love listening to you play the piano, guitar, and viola (although I would prefer it wasn’t at the exact moment I ask you to get into bed at night).  I love singing along to the radio with you, in harmony, and in unison, sometimes making up our own lyrics or discussing ones we have heard and what they mean.   I can’t wait to hear the melodies you produce throughout your life.  Your story will be a song.. I feel it.

One thing that has happened in the last year that totally surprised me, and in a great way, was to see your love for younger kids burst open wide.  It’s a bittersweet thing to not have you at the daycare where I work anymore, because you’re “too old” as you began making so many friends with the toddlers and preschoolers and I could see them light a spark of joy in you that was new and exciting.  I’m so thankful that you have younger cousins in your life that and that joy can continue sparking into brighter flames.

You’re a fierce protector of those you love, even if sometimes, like your siblings, or your mom, they also can irritate you.  When you feel someone is being wronged, you are there to stand for what is right, and I am so proud of you for that.

I could go on and on about how many wonderful things I see in you, but I also know that you’re probably blushing and feeling awkward at this point and wishing that I would stop.  So, I will continue to try and sprinkle these truths around for you in our regular day to day lives and just pray you pick up on them.

Speaking of prayers, I want you to know that I’m still praying fervently for you to feel your value and your worth, and that all the lies you have believed of your self based on former life circumstances, trauma, or words from others fall away.  They are nothing but lies, and you are perfectly made as you are.  I pray that you’ll feel yourself fitting in, not just as a part of our family unit, but as an individual, in places and groups around you.  I pray that your kind heart continues to grow and your light continues to shine, because there’s a beacon inside of you buddy, I can see it.  I pray that you laugh more than ever before, find so much joy in all circumstances, latch onto the perseverance that is inside of you, and carry on with bravery as you always have.  I pray that the struggles you find yourself facing are overcome and you feel stronger on the other side.  

I pray you know I’m always for you, never against you, and never going anywhere.  I’ll always be right here with my arms waiting to hug you, my ears waiting to hear you, and my heart loving you continuously.  Sappy, I know, but as you know, that’s who I am.

So, my dear boy, the one who is continuing to teach me how to be a mother, testing the boundaries and shaping my heart, I am so thankful that God chose us to figure out this life together.  We were made for each other, and as I told you just the other day, I have wanted you since I was a girl your age-  and I prayed that someday God would bring you into my life.  I am so incredibly thankful that he did.

Love you always, no matter what…

Mom (Bruh.)

And a decade has passed us...

My dearest Collin Liam,

Ten years ago today, I was almost two full weeks past my due date in my pregnancy with you.  I had tried quite literally everything I could think of to coax you out into this world, and you were content as could be staying where you were.

Some things haven’t changed much in ten years.

You still want to come along on your own time.  You still maybe are a little bit pokey sometimes.  You still don’t want to be without your momma for very long.  In fact, you’ve told me you want to live with me until you’re older than 50.  You are still almost always moving, bouncing around, making noise.

Lots of things have changed though.  Your birthmark has gotten barely lighter but oh so much bigger.  Your hair is long and a little unkempt most days.  You have gotten so much taller, too.

This year, I’ll keep it short and sweet, because I have noticed lately you stop paying attention if I start getting too long winded.

Ollie Bear, I am proud of you.  You’ve grown tremendously with your emotional and spacial awareness.  You are learning to take pause when you’re becoming overwhelmed.  

You have become so brave.  You are so kind, especially to little children and those much older than you.  You are incredibly smart, which we always knew, but have begun to focus even more in school and allow others to really see it too. You are wildly creative, especially in your play.  I have loved watching you develop a deep friendship with your sister, and listening to the two of you play dinosaurs is so much fun.  You have become quite an innovative problem solver, and increased in your scavenging skills, both outside and in our own cupboards.  

I pray this year is filled with goodness beyond your wildest dreams. I pray you see the gold in yourself as others around you see it within you.  I pray that you continue to be in touch with your beautiful, caring heart, and that patience and wisdom in tough circumstances continues to develop.  I pray that you see your own prayers answered right before your eyes.  I pray that you develop deep, lasting friendships.  I pray that you never have a single day without a hug.

In the morning, shortly after midnight actually, you will be one full decade old.  I can hardly believe it.   Like is still the case, the night you were born, you decided you were ready to meet us and you came quickly and dramatically, as you often do when you’re ready to be somewhere or doing something now.  You snuggled right up to me, like you still do, ten years later.  You’ve loved hugs every day of those ten years, you know.

I’m so thankful you are mine, Mister Man.  

You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me and I’m so glad you’re mine.

Love you, always and forever,

Mom

Aching elementary hearts

 This morning in our home, today began like most mornings over the last nine months have- a flurry of alarm clocks, sock hunts, lunch making, shirt turning inside-out-ing, backpack filling, shoe finding, five minute reminder chaotic filled moments. We made a special trip for "last day of the school year donuts" on the way to yet another traffic jammed elementary school drop-off lane commute. 

"Have a great last day of school! I love you!" I called to each of my three kiddos as they jumped out of the van and scurried off for the school doors. 

Yesterday, my fifth grader gave me permission to cry if I needed as I embraced the sentiment of the day. As I drove away, I did just that.

I have spent the majority of the past six years' mornings in that drop-off lane, calling out to one, then two, then three kiddos as they left my presence each morning. I've watched scrawny little wide-eyed, nervous and excited kids grow into bigger, more confident, wise, hilarious, and sometimes awkward kids. 

I have had six years worth of first day of school teary drop-offs and now six years of last day of school teary pick-ups. 

This afternoon was different. I surprised my kids at the school picking them up again this year, and each one greeted me with tears falling down their cheeks, as usual for the day. But this year, the tears had a little more depth to them as we all realized the end of an era has come. 

The big brother of the trio finished elementary school today. Overcome with emotions, he made his way to me, walking alongside one of the counselors who has helped him grow so these years, and immediately found solace in my arms. I held him while he cried and told me how it was hard to say goodbye, so difficult to be done with the hallways and classrooms of the building, and so sad to say goodbye to almost every other fifth grader, as he would not be attending the same middle school as they would. He told me how much he was going to miss his teacher and so many other teachers and staff in the building. He found himself embraced in hugs from his siblings and from some staff, and waved teary goodbyes to many others. I reminded him that he may still see some of them around the city, and again in early mornings next year as he waited for his bus transport to middle school each day. He reminded me gently that "that's not the same." I acknowledge the truth as well and held his hand as we walked onward. 

His siblings, also saddened by the see you later the end of the year brings, cried over having to part with teachers they loved, and knowing it would be a shorto before they'd see many of their classmates again. But this year, they cried alongside their brother as the reality that he wouldn't be in their school next year sunk in. They cried over surprise encounters and hugs in the hallway they would no longer have. They remarked on the sadness knowing they would be across town. They all hugged each other a while, before walking silently down the sidewalk to our van. 

We celebrated with a treat after school as we usually do, and then came home to unwind. They all fell asleep quickly after mentioning in an upbeat fashion that it's now summer break and that it is exciting. 

As they fell asleep in their room, I laid in my own, tears streaming yet again as I process the events of today. My heart swells with pride in bittersweet moments where they huddle together to embrace memories they have shared and anticipation of change. 

My heart aches as I remember all the years that have gone by, and feeling like somehow time cheated us all. We spend so much of our days going from one thing to the next and planning for things to begin and subsequently end, looking at the clock and the calendar and cramming as much as we can into our lives, day in and day out. The past few years have brought a bit of reprieve from that way of life and have made way for evaluation and reset, but still, so many days pass us by in old fashion. 

Tonight, I realized my oldest is nob longer an elementary student. He is nearly 12. Most of my years with him in my home may have already gone by. Most of my summers spent making memories with all three have likely passed us by. We are holding onto final years, weeks, and days together, and we will never get them back again. I find myself holding my breath as I write those words, knowing that I need to embrace that reality and make our time count. I know the risk of complacency and the ease at which we can take our time for granted. In the uncertain world we find ourselves in, I tell myself that cannot be good enough. I have to do better. 

I pray for the strength, the resilience, the persistence, determination, resolve, grace, wisdom, and mercy to truly value our days together while my children are young. I pray I am not so easily distracted or frustrated and able to be more present. I pray that even amidst preteen and teenage drama and hormones and power struggles and boundary testing, misunderstandings and overwhelming emotions, beautiful relationships continue to flourish. I pray that for every fight there are two loving encounters on the other side. 

Rocky roads may lay ahead in uncertain territory but I believe some of the most wonderful journeys will occur right beside them.

I pray for countless tomorrows in a life we take for granted, with the stark realization from current times that there's no guarantee for any hour past this one. 

One of the things I want most for my life is that my children will look back some day, and despite the countless traumas, trials, struggles and sorrows, they will see me there with them, helping them embrace the beauty and joy in every season. I want their memory banks to be filled in a way that they will never question whether I was there or cared enough. I want them to one day be adults that knew just how fully loved they were in every stage of their childhood. 

Time is already winding down. 

Little Miss Seven

 Darling Norah,

You told me this morning that you can’t believe tomorrow is your birthday.  Honestly, I’m finding it hard to believe it as well.  This past year certainly pulled us all through the wringer, and while we’ve joked about it not “counting,” it most certainly does.

A year ago, as you reminisced today, I was “so super sick” and we “were stuck all by ourselves,” but it was also such a blessed birthday.  Countless people sent or dropped off treats, balloons, and gifts, and your eyes sparkled with such joy.

This past year has helped sculpt us all, and one of the ways it affected you was helping you to be even more cognizant of the little joys and small victories in long, trying, isolating days.  There have been so many times you have pointed out to me the ways that things are good or better, and it’s such a refreshing lens to look through.  I love seeing those moments through the lens of your vision.

This year has also brought out some of the most generous and caring attributes of your personality and really let those facets shine.  I remember the excitement at Christmas as we walked through a store where you chose gifts for a little girl across town that we didn’t know, with such a twinkle in your eye.  You could not wait to surprise her with blessings to help make “her Christmas amazing.”  You secretly mailed money to some of your favorite people, “just to be nice” and “to do a good thing.”  When I told you about the groceries we were planning to bless someone with, you came up with an entire additional list of things that they needed, because kids need treats sometimes, even if it includes six flavors of Jell-O.  You make me so proud.  When we made tie blankets with the women’s group at church last fall, you loved it so much  and were so inspired that you asked if we could “make a bunch” to donate ourselves.  With the help of family and friends supplying so fleece, we ended up making a stack of blankets that was taller than you.  You blow me away.

You’ve made sure to remind me through the year how great it is that I’m here.  I know you and your brothers spent a long time worrying about me during various scary health struggles, and you are always cognizant of the fact that things could have turned out very differently.  You admit that the times made you sad, but you are more aware of the fact that things are okay, and that you’re just happy that things turned around.  Your optimism is inspiring on days I struggle to be that way myself.  You’ve stepped up and been so incredibly helpful during my recovery, even though I know it occasionally irritates you to “have to be helping,” and I am incredibly grateful for you and your brothers during this challenge, because I know it’s hard on all of us, but you have all been quite gracious and patient in the situation.

Sure, over the year you’ve also gained a little extra sass, spice and spunk, and maybe a few decibels in your volume register, but you’ve also gained such resilience and intelligent along the way. I’ve loved watching you really blossom in reading, and seeing you bounce back up quickly and determined when things don’t quite go your way.  

There’s been a lot of inconsistencies and change through the year, and you, my dear little lady, have shown such strength. I know that your strength will continue to grow, and that you have such amazing things in store for you. I cannot wait to see you take on the world, although, I wouldn’t mind if you slowed down just a little bit, and we can enjoy these younger years before they vanish with the wind.  You and your brothers are all growing up way more quickly than I would like, and my heart aches a little bit looking at how the years have gone by so swiftly.  The days may be long, but the years are short- or something like that.  I’ve been told that so many times, and this year, it’s proven more accurate than almost any year before it.

I have loved watching your creativity bloom as well.  Sure, you make a lot of little messes (and some giant ones, but who am I to judge because I make crafting messes too) and I feel like I’ll forever be finding scraps of paper, sequins, clumps of yarn, or bits of vinyl everywhere, but it excites me to no end to know that you seem to follow in my footsteps creatively, and although I will likely never run out of tiny little “notebooks,” it is absolutely wonderful to see the things made by your pretty little hands.

I love hearing you worship.  More often than not, the songs that come through your voice while we are sitting at home or driving in the van are worship songs, and it makes my heart soar.  It makes me giggle when the boys want to listen to Kids Bop, and you beg to change it to a worship station.  When I look over and see you singing in church, it nearly takes my breath away.  One of the most powerful moments that helped get me through my hospital stay was watching you sing and dance to worship songs in your dad’s basement.  It lifted my spirits so greatly and brought me enough peace to rest a while.  It was such a great gift that you didn’t even know you were giving me.

Another thing I’ve absolutely loved watching bloom is your relationships with your little girl cousins.  They all have such joy in their eyes when they see you, and you are so patient and understanding with them, but also so incredibly excited when spending time with them.  It’s so beautiful to me to watch those relationships form, because my cousins were also some of my very first and closest friends going up, and although there’s a few years in between me and my cousins, and a few years in between you and your cousins, I see the foundation for those lifelong friendships forming, and it blesses my heart immeasurably to watch you all flourish as you do.

The past year was filled with a lot of “missing out on” and “missing people” and I’m so sorry that life played out that way, but I am thankful for the many hours and days we all were able to spend together, even if sometimes it stressed us out.  I am also so grateful that things are turning around this year, and more typical things are beginning to occur, and we can get back to some of the old traditions and joys that we have longed for over the months.  

I am so thankful that this year, you can walk outside our doors and be greeted by many who love and care for you.  I’ll miss seeing your delight all day long as you are celebrated and cherished at school, but I’m so very happy that I get to share you with the world again.   You are a ray of sunshine in many people’s cloudy days.

Norah, I pray that this year you continue to flourish outside these walls, but also within them.  I know God is moving in your heart, and I pray that you can continue to overflow to those around you, and it magnifies greatly.  I pray you continue to have courage and tenacity in all situations, and that you really can feel how invaluable you are in this world.  I pray you always not only feel beautiful, but know in your mind that you’re beautiful inside and out.  I pray that you have confidence in who you are in all situations.  I pray that you always take the honest road, and keep truth at the forefront- I know that is something that is hard in a world like ours, but I know you have the strength to do so.  I pray that you touch the hearts of others and continue to show kindness and compassion.  I pray your heart never hardens toward those around you.  I pray you know how very loved you are.  I pray that you can continue to change the world around you, and that the world around you does not change who you are inside.

I am so proud of you, little lady.  

I can’t believe you’re going to be seven in the morning.

You think you love me most, but it just can’t be true.  No one on (other than God, as you point out frequently) can love any one more than I love the three of you.  I know, we debate this at least once a night.  I love that about you, too.

Love, Mom

That Christmas changed me.

One year ago, on Christmas Eve, I was asked to open up the Christmas Eve service at my church.  I surprised myself by saying yes without thinking about it, and even more so by following through and speaking in front of a large crowd of my church family.

Just a few days ago, I saw a post online that reminded me of that night and what I tried to express verbally about how my approach toward the meaning of Christmas has changed over the years.  Since I read the online post, I have been thinking about it again, as I do every year, but maybe just a little bit more this year than in the past few years. This year has definitely given more time for thinking about things, hasn’t it?  I have been revisiting my own experience with the meaning of Christmas so frequently since then, feeling the compelling need to write it out, that I do not fully recall the details of what I read that prompted this self-reflection in the first place. 

It has been an exceptionally long week, it feels like, and I am past the brink of exhaustion, but now that my children are sound asleep and I am sitting in quiet stillness beside the lights of our Christmas tree with remnants of gift opening still scattered a few places throughout the living room, I feel compelled to try to express the thoughts of my tired mind through my fingertips before I can drift off to sleep.  My spirit feels awakened and like there is so much to say, I just hope that it flows out in somewhat coherent formation.

Christmas is such a profound time of year.  In the Christian faith, the meaning of Christmas centers around the arrival of God here on earth, as a tiny human baby, ready to live a life for us, to die for us, so we can live forever.  It’s about true love.  It’s about blessing.  It’s about giving.  It’s about family.  It’s about all of these monumental, incredible, overwhelmingly good things.

It’s also about sacrifice.  It’s about saying yes to the most encompassing love you can feel, birthing a true miracle, knowing that it is a gift for you, but knowing it is to be given as a gift for all of mankind, for all of your life, and for all of eternity.

I can hardly fathom that, even knowing what it is about.

I can remember the first time that all really penetrated my heart, though.

It was a decade ago.  

It was a barely lit room.

It was the middle of a quiet night.

It was with a tiny, almost 8 week-old baby boy on my bosom, and a dog at my feet.

It was a gut wrenching, tear producing moment in the middle of a cold winter’s night.

It was the moment that I feel I saw what Mary saw, the night she held Jesus in her arms in that stable, half a world away from where I was, centuries before I ever walked the earth. 

I had my miracle son in my arms.

I felt so selfishly grateful that I knew I was not in Mary’s shoes, having to sacrifice my son for the world.  I wept as I imagined what her life was like.  I tried to fathom what it would be like, to grow my son inside my body, and years later, have to watch my son’s body be beaten and broken, the life tortured away in front of the masses, the weight of the world’s sins upon his back as he bled and died for all of those who loved him, those who did not know to love him, those all around the world.  At the same time, I realized that it was possible that, loving and living a life for Jesus could mean that some day, however unlikely it seems, my son may end up sacrificing himself for the love of others in this world.  I prayed it would never happen, and I could keep him for ever and always until the end of my time.  I felt relieved to know that it was never God’s plan for me to fill Mary’s shoes.

However, I admired Mary. She had the most amazing strength, and I bet she did not realize how strong she was. 

Yet, also, I pitied Mary.  She watched the most brutal and prolonged murder of her blessed baby boy and knew she had to allow it to happen.

I thought about how she spent her son’s entire loving him, nurturing him, and devoting herself to him, in a way no mother had to prior nor ever will again.  She knew from the moment she conceived him that he was sent for the world but her momma’s heart would have had no idea what that entailed.  She knew she was going to be sacrificing her body, her heart, and her soul for her son, for all of humanity, and despite knowing the details, she said yes.  She had the most incredible, willing faith.

I know that Christmas is not about Mary.  But I also know that thinking about Mary that Christmas changed me.  

Holding my own son in my arms that night brought such a deeper meaning to the gift of true love, blessed upon the world, born to save us all.  I saw the true meaning of Christmas in my own baby’s eyes.

I believe that processing and understanding the depth of this realization will be a lifelong process for me.  Every year, I believe I understand a little bit more.  It is a gift given to me by my journey through motherhood.   I have heard commentary about how magical and joyful it is to experience Christmas as a child, but how much more magical and joy-filled it is to experience children living out the wonder of Christmas.  I think there’s truth to that, but I definitely contend that the meaning of Christmas is what changed most for me having my children to experience Christmases alongside.

Knowing that Christmas is about the true love born as a baby, given for the restoration of our eternity and relationship with our Heavenly Father is something I try to instill upon my children.  I know it gets lost often in the merriment of giving and receiving of gifts, the chaos and clatter of paper and packages, the fawning and fighting that may go along with an abundance of material blessings all in one grand swoop, but I try.  Knowing what I know, recalling that night a decade ago helps guide me through exciting, yet sometimes stressful holiday moments, and helps me take some quiet moments to center my heart back where it belongs, not in current circumstances where children maybe had a little too much Christmas excitement for the day and are emotionally exhausted and physically fried, but in my gratefulness for the gift only our Heavenly Father could give, and the thankfulness for that young mother, eons ago, who said yes to a calling and gifted her most treasured blessing, her miracle, for me.

I pray that someday, my children are able to more fully embrace a deeper, truer meaning of Christmas.  I know that they know it’s about Jesus being born for us so that he could die and bring us to God. But, perhaps, one day as an adult, they too will be able to feel the depth and profound meaning of Christmas in a child’s eyes, if they do not have that opportunity while gazing into their mother’s as children themselves.

I have had my share of monumental type Christmases in a wide variety of ways, each of which had a lasting impact on my memories and emotions, shaping my life story and sculpting me into who I am.

That Christmas ten years ago changed me in ways I am still discovering.

Spectacular Six

Dear Norah Girl,

That's what you told me, tonight, that you want me to refer to you as when you're six- "Norah Girl."  It's to mirror that you call Spencer "Spencie Boy" and Collin "Ollie Bear," and "Norah B" is reserved for some special others in your life.  I suppose it's time I move on from calling you "Pip" or "Bubs," but I can't guarantee that it will happen.  I'll try to refer to you by the requested name though.  You said you would try to remind me.

We will see what tomorrow holds.

What I do know tonight holds, though, is a beautiful five-year-old little lady, snuggled up in the fort she made out of her bunk bed, with her new nightlight tree from Grandma plugged in and sitting at your feet.  Tonight is your last night being five.

Goodness girl, you are excited about that.

If I'm honest, your brothers, as the day went on, became a tiny bit annoyed listening to you go on and on a thousand words a minute (roughly) about how tomorrow is going to be the best day, because it's your birthday, and you will be six.  They surely couldn't wait for you to stop at bedtime, and the look in their eyes said it all.

Momma, on the other hand?  I loved listening to your excitement.

You see, this birthday... this one is different.

It sounds so cliche to blame it on this pandemic that's spreading throughout the globe, but it really is to blame for the strangeness this birthday presents to us.  School is closed, the world is nearly shut own, and we are stuck here at home while I overcome the virus that's tried to take over my lungs.  

You've been praying frequently for the last 11 days, for "corona VIRUS" to leave your momma alone.  As much as I hate the words, the way you say it, with the emphasis on the end, is just adorable.  

I'm sorry the past few weeks at home have been so hard, leading up to your birthday.  I know I've been asleep so much, sick so much, a bit crabby, and just not my normal self.

But baby girl, you've been phenomenal.  You refuse to accept that I shouldn't be with you, and you snuggle up beside me as soon as you decide you miss me.  Your brother do too, but not as much as you.  You don't want to leave my side.  I know it's partially concern, and it's a lot of loneliness.  You've always been such a social sunshine, and being isolated at home for two weeks already has been hard on you.  

I've seen you cry about missing your family, your friends, church, school, and daycare more than I care to admit.  I have held you, wishing I could make this isolation and virus go away.  

But instead, we've just been here, together.  You've been praying for me.  I've been praying for you.

I've been so worried, since school first was cancelled, that your birthday would be sad.  You see, I had taken the day off work to surprise you for lunch and in your kindergarten classroom.  I couldn't wait.  But that was taken away.

So then, I decided since I had the day off, we would surprise you with a trip to daycare to see your friends for a treat, so you could celebrate anyway.  

Then I got super sick.  And since I'm still sick, we cannot do that either.

We can't even have people over. 

But it's okay.  You've shown me over and over that my prayers surrounding your special day have been answered.  I was so worried you would be crushed by the isolation and saddened by all the losses involved.

But you haven't been crushed.  You have been a little sad.  But it won't overtake your joy.

The most beautiful thing happened this morning.  You knew that since I am still sick and we can't leave, we couldn't even get birthday decorations.

You wouldn't let that get you down.  So you made them yourself.  And you decorated the apartment with our help.  You spent the entire day just filled with joy over these decorations.  And then when someone dropped off streamers, we hung those too.  And tomorrow, there will be surprises that people have dropped off at the door, and the gifts that I ordered online- even though I couldn't leave.  And your brothers, this year, sorry babe, but they're getting some stuff too.  It's a hard time for them as well.  They'll forgive you for all the birthday talk when they see they are most definitely not forgotten or overlooked.

And tomorrow, you'll have video chats and phone calls and written messages from people who care about you.  There's even a surprise visit being planned for the deck sliding glass door.  So, it won't really be just us.  We will be the only ones in the apartment, but you will still celebrate with people who love you, because goodness darling, you love people.

Sweet Pea, you radiate joy.  Yes, you have other, strong, explosive emotions, but overall, you are just filled with joy.  You have been since the day you were born.  I think I say it every year in your letter, but God knew what He was doing when he brought you to us.  You may be the smallest, but goodness, you love like the biggest of them all.

This past year has been chaotic, beginning school, having your dad come back into your life, bringing a new family into your life as well, but you've handled it all with grace.  Yes, there have been some pretty intense struggles, but you were never broken down.  And you've become stronger, smarter, and more fierce, both good and not-as-good ways.  You've become a bit more sassy, a bit more emotionally charged, and hugely more humorous.  While you do talk... oh... pretty much non-stop, it's usually quite fun listening to you.  I especially love listening to you play with your toys by yourself.  You're so creative and come up with some of the most interesting scenarios.

You told me yesterday that someday you hope to have a daughter, and name her Maria, but also you don't want to get married and have kids so maybe you'll just have a dog named Willow.  Then you walked away.

Alright, Norah girl.  You know I love you beyond words.  I know you know I pray for you.  For this year, specifically though, I pray that you do not let the world rob you of your sunshine.  Do not let the world dull your sparkle.  Do not let the world steal your joy.  Carry on with Jesus shining in your heart, so you may carry on loving others the way that you do.  I pray that you continue to grow into your bravery.  I pray that your patience develops even more deeply.  I pray that your creativity and imagination continue to blossom and bloom.  You have so many amazing things in store for you and I cannot wait to see what invaluable treasures you bring into this world.  I pray that you know that no matter what, I am on your side, and I'll always be here, and there are countless others who feel the same.  I pray you always know God loves you more than I ever could, even though neither of us can figure out how that would be possible.

You told me today that you love me most of all.  When you walked away, I cried.

I love you, and your brothers, most of all too.

You are the best things that ever happened to me, and I am so glad that you're mine.

Happy Sixth Birthday, Baby Girl.

Love,

Momma