Like A Rainbow.

"Mommy come look!  There are rainbows!"

I step into the small corner she's found, where the early morning light reflects off the standing mirror, making lines of colorful prisms across the wall.  She kneels down, catching her purple gown under her baby knees.  

"Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet.  I love rainbows, mommy.  Aren't they beautiful." 

I murmur my agreement, but it's not the rainbow that catches my breath, it's her child wonder.  Her face that lights up, as a treasure greater than jewels, sparkles before her.  Her hair falls in brown waves and she is sleep, and baby, and innocence in a package that amazes me.

Perhaps it is how temporary I get her.  Each stage rushes by and I am constantly wondering where my baby went and marveling at the young lady growing before.  She will never be mine.  Like a dream that you don't want to leave, you pause, trying to return to the moment that came in your innocent sleep.  You linger in the early morning, holding close that soft feeling, even as it slips away and you wake, but through the day you catch the memory.  

We pause on the stairs.  The window panes casting their light on the white wall behind her animated face.  

"This is what I wished mommy!  When I held my eyelash on my finger, before I blew, this is what I saw."

I stop to listen, to enter her world, to hear the fleeting hope that youth and emotion will share, before superstition and age keep it hidden.

"I thought of rainbows and then I blew.  I got it mommy, I got my wish."

Just like that the magic is real.  It trembles in it's belief.  

She is like a rainbow.  When you get the chance to see one, you stop and stare.  You marvel at it's curve, the colors, the storm that is fading behind, and the promise it reflects.  Perhaps you take a picture, or crane your neck as your car speeds past.  Even so, it is fleeting beauty, it is a moment that can not last.  It is never yours to keep, but when you are given a glimpse, be brave enough to look.

Hold to the instant, when promise, and perfection, and life pause in your hand.  When you have the chance to touch wonder, be present enough to believe the magic.

*Photo Credit: the amazing Erica Bartel

A Good Nights Sleep

"MAMA!  CAN YOU COME CUDDLE ME?"

I stumble blindly through the dark room, down the hall, banging toes and elbows into various obstructions that magically appear in my path come night.

I fall into the twin bed shoved perilously close to the top bunk, somewhere between cracks and blankets, bodies find my warmth and cling.  They cuddle in, put their faces on my face, their heads on my shoulder.  My arm will fall asleep.  My back will ache.  I will be elbowed or kicked.  I will wake at one point to drag myself back to the comfort of my own bed.  Where I will snuggle in to the warmth of my husband.  Until once more my dreams are broken by, "MOM!"

We will repeat variations of this scenario through the night and for all the nights going forward until we don't.  I won't notice it ending.  I may mention that I slept all night without my kids waking me.  Without a little body tumbling in to my bed, to squeeze between my husband and me.  I'll tell someone how great I feel getting a full nights rest.  I'll brag about how big my kids are now that they don't need me as often.  They're getting so big, I feel so relaxed, how grateful I am for sleep.  The monsters will have become less real, the need for my protection will wan.   It will be so subtle.  I won't notice what I'm missing.  I'll realize how good it feels to get a little of my freedom back.

I won't notice until they're grown and I will wonder where all of the time went.  How could it have passed so fast.  It's hard to treasure the pain that comes with the joyful innocence.  The loss, of being 100% depended on, to no longer being needed.

When you give birth, you lose who you were, in one huge, sweeping, cataclysmic birthing of another life.  There is blood and agony, flowers, tears, joy, and then the shocking emptying of all you knew before.  Then so very, very, very slowly you get yourself back.  It comes in waves, in milestones, in teetering steps, in whole nights of sleep.  Each bit of yourself, of your former freedoms, is like an old friend.  The sacrifice, is watching the life you birthed become fully capable.  It is a beautiful heartbreak.

There are times when little arms cling to me, when eyes close in sleep on rosy cheeks, when I whisper a hopeful prayer, to never forget, never let go of these moments.  That the timeless scatterings of memories will hold close and bury themselves in my heart, for always.

Because one day, I won't be called to cuddle.  And I will weep for the times I hold, right now, in my hand.

Yearning for a Baby.

I have baby fever.  I want one.  Oh I do. I do. I do.

but.


My husband does not.

We have the perfect pair.  Our boy and our girl.  They are both amazing.

but.


It feels like something is missing.

I don't know if we have another baby if that will be filled or if I will just always want to have another.

Life is good right now.  Our baby is 2!  Two is big.  Two can do a lot of things on her own.  Our oldest is 4.  Four is an adult.  He doesn't need me at all.  Maybe he needs me, a little.  Mostly to cuddle.  I am a great cuddler.  It's because I am warm.  Judah likes to tell me he can't sleep without me because his bed is cold and I am the only thing that makes him warm.  I like this.

If we had another I would need a bigger bed.

More babies cost more money.  This is my husbands hiccup.

We have also been doing babies and kids since we got married.  A break would be nice.

but.


I have baby fever.

If we are done having babies then that season is over.  It's a hard season.  When you are in the middle of it, the lack of sleep, the lack of accomplishment, can leave you very empty.

but.


I think that I am more okay with that than ever before.

If we have more kids then the ages get all mixed up.  Right now our kids are pretty much happy to do whatever, with us, with each other.  It's a balanced dynamic.

but.


I have baby fever.

My body aches to carry one more life.  I love being pregnant.  Don't remind me of this when I am pregnant.  I love giving birth.  I really, really want to do this again.  Avi was SO easy.  Labor was cake.  Fine.  Not really, but compared with Judah's, it was definitely cake.  I want another labor like that.

but.


I can be very, very happy with life right now.  I can enjoy the moments.  Appreciate how we are growing.

but.


It will probably always hit, hard and in the gut, this yearning for one more.

but.


I can only wait, until this desire is shared.

for now.


I'll live with baby fever.

Reflections.

It is a brilliant day.  Blue skies and cold, but not crazy, wear a million coats, frozen face, cold.  Pleasantly cold.  I love December.  All month I get to enjoy every little moment.  I have an excuse to shop and wrap things in pretty paper and I get to drink as much hot cocoa with candy canes as I want.  This is a great deal of cocoa.  If your supermarket is running low, more than likely it is because of my massive consumption.  

I love the smell of pine, I love brewing my big cup of coffee and turning on Christmas music, while the lights on the tree glow joyfully through the room.  Simple to say this is a very happy time.  

Beyond all of the magic of Christmas, this is the last month of the year.  Probably the last month of the world, because everything is going to end in 2012.  I love to take this time to reflect on my year, to use what I've learned to propel me forward into the next.  I don't typically look back and feel a twinge of regret.  This year I do.  Not condemning regret, more of a realization that I could have done it better and a deep desire to press into this next with purpose.  

What is purpose?  It is both intention and the reason we exist.  In its nature, it is the outward looking of our lives.  The necessity to carry, focus and determination.  

Often I can find myself wondering where did this day go?  What did I accomplish, attain, or more importantly, impart?  In this moment, I find myself looking back in review and speculating upon the very little I purposed.  

This could turn to a discouraging diatribe on all I should have done, all I wish I did, and how I am somehow less than, for not doing or being 'better'. 

But, I have no use for that.  

In these few years I have lived, I can tell you that nothing good will come from beating yourself down or wishing you could change what has already been.  There is no life there and it's better to move from it as quickly as possible.  

I reflect, because I want to grow from where I have been.  As I am feeling now, I don't want to redo last year, I want to transform, move forward with decision and purpose.  

I want to grow.

This was definitely a difficult season.  I think in the middle of hard times you can miss all that is being accomplished in you and through you, because it's not easy to look beyond the immediate.  Yet, in this place I want to focus.  To live in consistency, despite what life may feel like.

Some goals I have for this year, to improve over my last.  

I want to focus on my children.  To enjoy them.  To always be kind.  To be patient.  To listen.  

Less rushed.  Better at taking deep breaths and not reacting to the stress of the moment.  Who cares if we are going to be thirty minutes late, even though we were trending to be early.  Getting mad will not get us there any earlier.  (burn this in me oh Lord!)

To see each day as full.  Even if we never leave the house.  To make our time matter, because we are focused and intentional in each interaction.

To be a joy and blessing to every person that we encounter.  May their day be brighter because they were near us.  

Even if it happens in snippets, to take those moments and just be with the Lord.  It doesn't have to be a cup of coffee, sitting on the couch, with the lights just so, and quiet.  It can be the chaotic ball just missing my head and children singing gleefully, while twirling hands dismantle a room.  I want to find my peace in those moments.  Learn huge wisdom, when life is beyond me.  

To pursue my dreams.  With wild ambition and passion, not despising the baby step process.

These may not seem like huge wild sweeping goals.  Each in its own way is moving me with purpose.  Keeping me held to a higher demand on my life.  Propelling me to be the woman, wife, and mother to whom I have been destined.  

May this amazing season be filled with great joy.  May you sink your teeth into the very heart of life.  And enjoy giant cups of rich cocoa, don't forget the candy cane.

To this, my love.

There is something in the air.  The magic of a fall day.  The crisp, clean air that swells with mystery and promise.  It has been more than a while, since I have felt the click of keys under my fingers.  Since my heart has felt the weight of something to share.  A sliver of life to reveal with you.  Perhaps more it has been the overwhelming sense of a need to work through the cacophony of life, to find the sweet harmony of peace.

For the last year I have desperately sought to better myself, the sting of failure more often my fate than any sense of success.  I have strived desperate to break through this wall.  To be worthy of this life.  To be accepted.  Loved.  To not only know my value, but for it to be know.   Day after day I melted, lost, broken, discouraged.

Only to land in this place of peace, where I stand face to face with myself and realize that I am exactly the me I was created to be.  To find my life is worthy, not for any other reason then that it was handed to me.  I was created for purpose.  While that purpose may not always connect in my mind, it is in no way diminished.  My lack is never from reality, but because my eyes have not yet been opened to the abundance surrounding me.   I have chosen to live desperate for others to value me, because I did not value myself.  I was hungry for love because I could not see the one who embodies love and I would not receive the love he so desperately longs to pour out.

I was invited into the throne room and rather than enter in my rags, I first sought to better myself.  To clean off the dirt, to prove my worth.  That when I entered I would not be shunned or ashamed.  Only to be brought in, with dirt on my face.  To bite into the apple of grace and as the pure juice of life dripped down my chin, watch as my being transformed.  The clothing I once spurned as rags, change to white and the dirt, to gold.  Eyes to see and ears to hear.

I have come to realize that the reality in which I have lived, was not to what I was born.  I was called to destiny and purpose and yet I could only see it as servitude and lack.  My eyes were blind to the true gift of which I am blessed to live.  The joy that I can find in every day.  As I see clearly for the first time.

How desperate I am to fill my lungs with the purity of air.  To see the value of my life.  To pour out my blessing and worth upon my children.  To teach them to live, perfectly pleasing their Creator who is so eager for their joy.

I live each moment, each day, eagerly gulping the extravagant good to which I have been birthed.  Free of fear and worry.  To not desperately seek the pleasure of those around me, but that of the one who formed me.  Who has known me and who calls me, from deep to deep.


Walk soft on your way, drink deep of cream and spice, live with wild abandon.  Whisper gentle, laugh loud and dance in the falling of leaves.  Herald the season of change.