Popsicles

Hey friend! We made it to a Friday and sometimes it’s worth throwing housework to the wind for a mental health day. Or for crying babies or the kid that always throws a temper tantrum at the most inconvenient times (of course)!

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imageAnd for the first time I’m not going to feel guilty about it. In fact I’m celebrating! ‘Cause you know what? It’s not the tidiness they’ll remember. They’ll remember the times that you took to sit on the floor with your sobbing pre-teen to sort out all this hormone messiness, or turned on The Little Rascals in black and white for the one who needed time with mom, or that they saw you talk with the neighbor instead of finishing dishes just because. It’s time we choose love over lists.

My sister says it’s Popsicles were raising. One more lick and they’ll be gone. It all goes by so fast. So go out there and seize these moments with grace. You’ll never regret it and there’s always tomorrow for that neat little house you’re dreaming of.

 

In Case You’re Wondering…

 

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I come from sweaty brows and upturned earth.  From berry patches and patched clothes and parching thirst with draughts of cold sweet tea.

I come from drinking deep of Dickens and Dickinson while traipsing through trails of trees along old babbling streams.  I come from singing long into the night and stepping out under full moons to hide and seek in evening dew.  From setting camp on shores of Lake Superior, bicycles, paper routes, paper dolls and piano concerts to the least of these.  From old-fashioned ice cream makers, made from scratch bread, made from scratch everything and pressure canners humming long into the night.

I come from hymn singing, Bible breathing, we’re not afraid to say it loud and go the extra mile kind of folk.  I come from there’s always an extra seat at the table and no one is too low for love and prayer is not something you do…it’s what you wear.

I come from truth-telling, big family, big dreams, bigger hearts and tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet.  And when you can’t find me? Look in a meadow all grown tall with wildflowers.  I’m most likely fixing a vase for the table with the extra seat.

So where do you come from?

 

Hope Blooms

“Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life. You don’t have to live forever. You just have to live. And she did.” Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

We walk them to the bus their shoulders bent, laden with cares of a Monday and my heart is breaking before the sun climbs high in the sky.  It’s not as easy as handing them their blankies anymore to ease pain, and hugs only go so far.  But I do know who goes with them and I need Him right now as much as them so I grab coffee in hand and stumble out into this drizzly grey morning to pace the streets and whisper His name.

My friend Sally knows it better than most that what we really need above anything else is Jesus.  And sometimes the best prayer for someone is His name.

In the middle of pleas for “help Jesus” and “increase my faith” and “don’t let me get stuck trying to live the safe life for myself….for my children” I stumble upon themOut of weeds and summer’s grass fading hope grows.  Hope lives.  Hope blooms where it is planted. And Hope changes everything.

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Suddenly I’m alive. I can choose to really live or just live to get by.  I can keep wishing the days away until we’ve all arrived or relish in the stops along the way however painful they may be.

It truly is all in the journey and fear will forever steal joy.

I pause, tears mingling with rain, and somehow I’m all smiles this girl surprised by joy.