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Showing posts from January, 2013

Forget not His benefits...

I try to not be a worry-wart, but having kids can send even the most self-assured into a panic attack just considering what could go wrong in the future.  And sometimes, in my honest moments, when I imagine my boys as teenagers, as young men, I think, "Would smoking or drugs or a pre-marriage pregnancy be the worst thing that could happen to them?"

I don't say this flippantly.  I say this with tears threatening because I obviously want the best for my boys and any future babies we bring home.  I don't want them to make a decision when they are so young and the future is so big and unknown and to have something define their life in an instant like that.  I try to not think about all the bad or hard that could come along.  That probably will come along. It makes me want to keep them little forever.  My mother's heart cringes at the idea of anything but positive and beautiful.

And when you get beyond the basics - the ABC's and the eating with a fork - then there…

The mountain stands by me...

I think of it, quickly and brief, as I flop next to him.  I dip down and look into his green-gray-blue eyes, muddy waters, a reflection of his Daddy and of me.  And I say it quiet and soft, kissing his still-baby-almost cheek.
“You know I love you?”
He nods, remains of so sorry tears floating close.
I explain why he received the punishment he did and did he understand why?  He nodded.  He knew he had crossed the line and been disciplined.  And he knew, with me holding his hand and smoothing his hair and kissing that face that I had a part in making - he knew he still had Mama’s love.
And as I moved back to the kitchen, back to chores and left him to the delights of Mickey Mouse, I thought of it still, of a greater Voice, bending low and whispering in my tired ear, “You know I love you?”  My deep breathed sigh rattled low to my chipped-nail-polished toes. 
Yes, I know, but...
“You know I love you?”
The insistence.  The smirk that I imagined touches His face as He looks at His weary, feeble, m…

Take me to the desert, You will be the water...

It's my fault he wore the boots that day.

We were headed to Cabela's as a family.  Aaron wanted to start off the new year by going on a little adventure with the boys and had been anxious for months to take Joel to see the animals and displays.  So, we packed up and drove the two hours to the Michigan line for a McDonald's lunch and a couple hours in hunter's paradise.  Joel had insisted on wearing his favorite boots and even though I knew they were a good size or two too small, I relented.  He'd worn them recently anyhow and had never fussed, so maybe they fit better than I thought they did.

He wanted to be carried the majority of the day.  This worked since Daddy's strong arms were with us and I had Travis in the cart.  But then once we got home, he limped and complained that his feet hurt.  We thought he was maybe playing and just goofing off, since he's never complained of sore toes or heels before.  But it persisted.  And even throughout the next day.…