Clary Love

I want to be that little girl again that sits and thinks about that Great Love all day, that when it walks by I swoon for simply being in the room.  I remember feeling that way about a few boys in my early childhood.  I would think about what they would say to me, how it would be if they would only see me for who I knew I was, if they would fall feet over head in love with me like I felt about them. My emotions were strong, they were not hidden.  Everyone from my parents, brothers, family members, friends, well, the whole school, including my crush knew I was crazy for them.  I can remember trying think how do I keep such passion from exploding out of me.  It consumed me. Now I am an adult.  Not a child.  My Great Love in human form lays next to me each night and calls me beautiful each day. His love for me still puts me in awe each day.  I know God is real because of him, I know I am precious to God because of how he treats me. BUT... I ...

My heart is craving for creativity, craving to be used to its full power, shout out to the universe my knowledge,  unknowing questions, to pound upon the sky and scream all my desperation but still I am here. Waiting. Waiting for the still small voice to call out and press me forward. I know, I know, I have the task of raising my boys, of being as wife and mother. Oh how I love those jobs but I can not help that I was created for even more to be added. I want to glory in his glory by shining as he has equipt me. I seek, I search, I dig and the answers all come up the same....not yet, stop, patient, almost, sit still. It is painful. It is hard. I know later I will reply the Garth Brooks song "Unanswered Prayers" over and over in my head as a thanks (I have done it so many times before) but nonetheless it is still hard. Till God moves..

Not too many moments as a Mom gross me out. I have a steel stomach for the most part, I think God prepared me for having boys, I always wanted boys.  I read a blog today about raising all boys and as I read through I had experienced or accepted I would experience each experience the mother was stating. 1) boys are dirty 2) boys play rough and loud 3) I will one day be known as the mother-in-law and ect. These things and so much more I get, I accept, I love but today I don't want to see again! We are potty training my almost three year old son. We have been in this process for awhile and for the most part it has gone well. We are held up on the pooping in potty. I often find my son hiding under tables, in closets, under blankets and pooping in his totally adorable toddler super hero underwear and boxers. I can handle this, I don't love it but a simple wash in potty, spray in sink and wipe the boy down and we are back to clean. This is not how it went today. Today, I found my ...

We have held our breath, spoken quietly, not celebrated, not allowed ourselves to believe. We allowed little spots of joy but not too much. We quietly prepared for both ends, praying desperately for one over the other. No one died, no one is sick, but in this matter our hearts are broken. God is still good, our flesh is weakly trying to remember to trust His ways are wiser than our own. Saturday was the day all the stress was to be over. The condo, Bobby and my first home together, would be sold on the 15th. We first put it up for sale Jan 2011 after finding out we were pregnant with our first child. Since we have brought both our boys home to the condo. It was a great home for us for a moment but not with a growing family. The space closed in on us, we wanted country, land, space and no where in the city would supply that to our hearts desire. We wanted out. The last obstacle to a possible rejection was to be on Saturday. We heard nothing, our joy started to show. We borrowed a tru...

Okay, he is two and he talks constantly. He talks to toys, himself, phones, the kindle, his brother, the trucks that pass and I have even caught him telling Jesus things (sweet moments). Today was different for some reason. Today he had the look that he was really seeing someone as he was talking. He was eating breakfast at the table/bar that is positioned between the kitchen and back living area of Granny's house. We have lived here 6 months and he sits there every morning while I get my food and Elijah fed for the morning. Today he kept repeating, "I not scared, I not scared." I decided to observed closer and he would shake his head and say "no I not." I decided to dig further into this and ask who he was talking to. For the first time he did something strangly new. He pointed to the back room. No one is in the back room. I said is there someone in there, he said , "there!" excitedly showing me with his tiny finger pointed out. I got creatively thi...

It doesn't seem like a lot in numbers to me. Same length I was in high school and  college and both flew by in a flash. I remember thinking at the end of those, it went too fast. I need more time. But there was no more time, it was the moment to go, to do more, to grow. This is different. Somehow it feels like four years doesn't show how much I feel, how much we have gone through, how much we have done. Four seems degrading to how I feel. Four seems too little. I am not sure there is a number to stand for, "I can't remember life without you," "time is devided by before Bobby and after marriage," nothing explains how we were bonded after simply saying I Do, by the moments after the accident, by two babies in 22 months. I guess that is marriage though. Days do not define it, years only hold scope to it but don't declare how meaningful it is. Marriage is something unique to marriage. No past relationship, boyfriends, girlfriends or slumber paries can ...