Last night I stumbled onto the ESPY awards when I flipped on the TV. I've known about how Caitlyn Jenner was being honored with the Arthur Ashe Courage Award for a little while now, and last nights ESPY's was the presentation of the award, and the SPEECH that followed. While I knew that she was being presented with the award, I didn't know that it was taking place last night so I'm glad I got to watch it.
So how do I feel about the transgender community as a human being?
The thing that stinks in this situation is that Caitlyn Jenner was trying to make a point, but because we are so caught up on whether or not we think the award was deserved, we've completely lost sight of what that point was. She mentioned multiple times in her speech about how grateful she was that she was given this platform to be able to speak out about the struggles of a trans person growing up in such a hateful world. She spoke about a few stories of trans teens, one who was found murdered, and one who had killed himself because of the struggles they face with bullying and isolation. She spoke about the fact that we, as a collaborative people, don't have to like or even understand each other. But we DO need to respect each other. RESPECT each other to not hate, to not call names, to not shame or belittle each other. Respect each other enough to, if nothing else, just shut our dang mouths.
Oddly enough earlier that day I stumbled upon this VIDEO on my Facebook feed that was made by a mother about her experience with raising a transgender child. And it really made me think about things from another perspective.
How do I feel about the transgender community as a Mother?
It's easy to sit back on the side lines and point fingers from an outsiders opinion. It's easy to make comments and have judgmental thoughts about things you don't understand and don't have to deal with in your life. I don't have to deal with raising a transgender child, so it's easy for me to point fingers at the women in this video and say "Well I would just MAKE my child..." Because I've NEVER had to do that. But when I look into my children's faces, when I see them cry and I know they hurt. As I watch them grow up knowing all of the battles they will face for a million other reasons, I can tell you honestly that I would do exactly what this mother did in this video. I would hug my child so hard for so long, and I would cry with them. And when the tears dried, I would stand up and support them in every step of their journey.
Because the NUMBERS ARE REAL. But WE can help change those numbers, not by understanding, but by supporting.
So how do I feel about the transgender community as a Christian?
Well, I wish I was smart enough to tell you how to do this, but I'm not. Because I struggle with this. I've talked about it before in my blog, the conflict of being a christian and wanting to obey God, but also believing in supporting ALL humans. I do believe that Caitlyn Jenner hits the nail on the head when she said respect. And I think Jesus hits the nail on the head when he says "Love one another."
My pastor did a wonderful series called 'God, I have a question.' with a sermon titled "God, How Should Christians Relate to Gay People." He is a much much smarter man then I will ever be.
You can watch it here.
I wish life wasn't so difficult, but it is. It's difficult for so many people in so many ways. We each face our own battles and when it comes down to it, and we're all just trying to get through with as much happy memories as we can.
So take some time to make someone else's memory of today happy.
-Inspire Others-
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
A wanderlust runner
I was born with a Wanderlust soul, but after having my first child at 21 I was never able to really satisfy that urge and it's always been a struggle that I've had to deal with. The insatiable desire to explore more, to experience more, to BE more.
That's why I decided to become a runner.
I think a lot about what it means to have what I like to call "a ragin case of wanderlust". Wanderlust to me is a feeling that makes my heart want to burst through the air that I breath and experiences that I have, and the sky.
Running has accomplished this, at least for now, for me. I think back on all of the runs that I have had. The nights that I have spent doing speed work in the darkness and stillness around me, with my heart beat strong and my breath heavy and hard. My music loud enough to shake my soul, but deaf to the world around me.
I think about all the times I've woken up with the after midnight shows still playing on the radio, after a night of sleepless mother hood, to log a few loops to the sun rising with friends. To spend the hours I should have been sleeping once I finally got my babies to sleep, but instead sharing laughs and smiles and venting and miles that I hold dear to my heart.
I think about the times I woke up too hungover for my own good, but dove deep into the trails on a warm summer morning to sweat out the woes and worries of the night before. A better cure for a hangover then any Tylenol or greasy breakfast could ever be. I call them whisky river miles.
And I remember all the times where I just couldn't piece together the past in my mind, so the only thing that made sense to me was to hit the pavement, one step at a time, one foot in front of the other. I remember all of the hills that I took to in sadness, and all of the miles I logged in fear, and all of the times I stopped running to just cry... and all the times I let myself do so; and then finished my run.
I have learned over my years of running that while I was longing for more. constantly living with wanderlust, that I was living the fullest life that I could have right now. As a runner my heart was bursting through the air that I breath and the experiences that I have on a daily basis. I wasn't constantly longing for the vacation or the night out to create my memories anymore, but I was living with them in the most habitual thing in my life. My wanderlust for running.
That's why I decided to become a runner.
I think a lot about what it means to have what I like to call "a ragin case of wanderlust". Wanderlust to me is a feeling that makes my heart want to burst through the air that I breath and experiences that I have, and the sky.
Running has accomplished this, at least for now, for me. I think back on all of the runs that I have had. The nights that I have spent doing speed work in the darkness and stillness around me, with my heart beat strong and my breath heavy and hard. My music loud enough to shake my soul, but deaf to the world around me.
I think about all the times I've woken up with the after midnight shows still playing on the radio, after a night of sleepless mother hood, to log a few loops to the sun rising with friends. To spend the hours I should have been sleeping once I finally got my babies to sleep, but instead sharing laughs and smiles and venting and miles that I hold dear to my heart.
I think about the times I woke up too hungover for my own good, but dove deep into the trails on a warm summer morning to sweat out the woes and worries of the night before. A better cure for a hangover then any Tylenol or greasy breakfast could ever be. I call them whisky river miles.
And I remember all the times where I just couldn't piece together the past in my mind, so the only thing that made sense to me was to hit the pavement, one step at a time, one foot in front of the other. I remember all of the hills that I took to in sadness, and all of the miles I logged in fear, and all of the times I stopped running to just cry... and all the times I let myself do so; and then finished my run.
I have learned over my years of running that while I was longing for more. constantly living with wanderlust, that I was living the fullest life that I could have right now. As a runner my heart was bursting through the air that I breath and the experiences that I have on a daily basis. I wasn't constantly longing for the vacation or the night out to create my memories anymore, but I was living with them in the most habitual thing in my life. My wanderlust for running.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Keep on running my friends
Happy Sunday!
This Sunday is a good one for me. It's rest day!! I've been rebuilding my running career for a little while now; for about the past 10 weeks. If you ever rebuilt your running career, then you know what I mean about rest days. For me, I'm coming back from pregnancy. You could be coming back from an injury, from taking a hiatus during the winter months, or just rebuilding after a really busy time in your life where running wasn't able to be a priority.
But there is something beautiful about coming back, and extremely frustrating at the same time. To think that I WHOMPED my last marathon, and yesterday I struggled through 10 miles at a used to be easy pace. And while that thought is frustrating, I think back on 10 weeks ago when I went for my first run post baby and I really struggled through 2 miles at almost no pace at all, and then I think about the 25 mile week I just put in. The 5 am runs I started doing. The speed I have gained. The renewed love of running that I have come back to remember after a little bit of time off. Where I may not be anywhere near where I used to be, I have come so far from where I recently have been.
Embrace the mile in life you are at. Don't fret about where you started, don't long for the end goal. Just be in the moment that you are in and try to make that moment the best one you can have. For if you continue to try to better yourself in that moment, the inevitable result is a positive one. When you embrace each mile for what it represents, the start of a new run, the middle of a hard workout, or the completion of another challenge completed, whether that run was amazing or awful, the end product is always growth. Change for the better either from lessons learned or victories achieved.
Keep running my friends. Whether you love it or hate it for that run, you are an amazing person for being a runner. By running through this life, you are living the very essence of what it means to exist. You are sucking the most out of life that you can, and experiencing it in the most beautiful way.
Never lose that.
Dream Big_ Inspire Others_ Run Long-
This Sunday is a good one for me. It's rest day!! I've been rebuilding my running career for a little while now; for about the past 10 weeks. If you ever rebuilt your running career, then you know what I mean about rest days. For me, I'm coming back from pregnancy. You could be coming back from an injury, from taking a hiatus during the winter months, or just rebuilding after a really busy time in your life where running wasn't able to be a priority.
But there is something beautiful about coming back, and extremely frustrating at the same time. To think that I WHOMPED my last marathon, and yesterday I struggled through 10 miles at a used to be easy pace. And while that thought is frustrating, I think back on 10 weeks ago when I went for my first run post baby and I really struggled through 2 miles at almost no pace at all, and then I think about the 25 mile week I just put in. The 5 am runs I started doing. The speed I have gained. The renewed love of running that I have come back to remember after a little bit of time off. Where I may not be anywhere near where I used to be, I have come so far from where I recently have been.
Embrace the mile in life you are at. Don't fret about where you started, don't long for the end goal. Just be in the moment that you are in and try to make that moment the best one you can have. For if you continue to try to better yourself in that moment, the inevitable result is a positive one. When you embrace each mile for what it represents, the start of a new run, the middle of a hard workout, or the completion of another challenge completed, whether that run was amazing or awful, the end product is always growth. Change for the better either from lessons learned or victories achieved.
Keep running my friends. Whether you love it or hate it for that run, you are an amazing person for being a runner. By running through this life, you are living the very essence of what it means to exist. You are sucking the most out of life that you can, and experiencing it in the most beautiful way.
Never lose that.
Dream Big_ Inspire Others_ Run Long-
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
My open letter to this lady's open letter to pastors: It's not about you
As mother's day circles around again this year, an article popped up on my facebook feed that I remembered circling around last year about this time. It's an open letter a non-mom wrote about how she feels alienated when her pastor asks the moms to stand and be recognized on mothers day. She states the the ritual makes women who are not "technically moms" feel awkward. That one year she decided to stand, despite not being a mother, because she didn't want to feel like less of a woman. You can read the full article here. I just have one thing that I want to say to this woman.
It's NOT. ABOUT. YOU.
It's about mothers. It's about honoring mothers on this one day out of the year that is set aside to honor them. You state that it's awkward for the women to be told to stand. If a woman doesn't want to stand, they don't have to. If a woman wants to stand despite the fact that she may have lost her child early in their life and will always be a mother in her heart, then she can go for it. No one is taking roll call. You know how you feel in your heart, and God knows weather you have the heart of a mother or not and the act of standing should be a personal and immensely proud moment for these mothers, the same way it is when one chooses to stand in church the day they gave their life to Christ. No one asked you for your credentials before you stood on that day, and no one is asking for them now. They are just there to honor and support you.
I promise you that I'm not insensitive to your issue. I am in fact a mother of three, so I proudly stand on mothers day. But I'm no stranger to the feeling of sadness and loss towards a specific group of people. I lost my father to alcoholism when my oldest son was one. I was extremely close to my father growing up. He taught me a love for life that I carry in my day and pass down to my children. A spirit that I had hoped he would be able to pass down himself. But he can't; because he died very tragically. and way too young. His death, despite being over 6 years ago, breaks my heart every day.
And it breaks my heart again every time I see a friend post a picture on facebook of their father lovingly holding their grandchild, or playing baseball with them, or reading them a book, or walking with them hand in hand down a walking path in the woods. It killed me last week when I took my two year old to story hour and the two men that sat down against the wall next to me were both grandpas there on their own with their grandchildren. I watched their relationship longingly and just kept thinking about how I'll never get to witness that love, and my sons will never know that relationship. And it tears me apart when I attend a wedding and watch the father walk their daughter down the isle and dance that beautiful father daughter dance together. Because I never got to experience that, because my dad died 1 week before I met my husband.
But you know what, just like you on mothers day, those situations are NOT. ABOUT. ME.
They are beautiful and the essence of what makes our world go round. I would never ask someone else to compromise the love they have in their lives because of what I am missing in mine. I choose to celebrate them and their relationship and am proud every time I see love shared between two people in this world.
It'll be ok non-mama. You have your own beautiful life in your own way, and I have my own beautiful life in mine. And my life gets more beautiful every time I have the blessing to share in others joy.
It's NOT. ABOUT. YOU.
It's about mothers. It's about honoring mothers on this one day out of the year that is set aside to honor them. You state that it's awkward for the women to be told to stand. If a woman doesn't want to stand, they don't have to. If a woman wants to stand despite the fact that she may have lost her child early in their life and will always be a mother in her heart, then she can go for it. No one is taking roll call. You know how you feel in your heart, and God knows weather you have the heart of a mother or not and the act of standing should be a personal and immensely proud moment for these mothers, the same way it is when one chooses to stand in church the day they gave their life to Christ. No one asked you for your credentials before you stood on that day, and no one is asking for them now. They are just there to honor and support you.
I promise you that I'm not insensitive to your issue. I am in fact a mother of three, so I proudly stand on mothers day. But I'm no stranger to the feeling of sadness and loss towards a specific group of people. I lost my father to alcoholism when my oldest son was one. I was extremely close to my father growing up. He taught me a love for life that I carry in my day and pass down to my children. A spirit that I had hoped he would be able to pass down himself. But he can't; because he died very tragically. and way too young. His death, despite being over 6 years ago, breaks my heart every day.
And it breaks my heart again every time I see a friend post a picture on facebook of their father lovingly holding their grandchild, or playing baseball with them, or reading them a book, or walking with them hand in hand down a walking path in the woods. It killed me last week when I took my two year old to story hour and the two men that sat down against the wall next to me were both grandpas there on their own with their grandchildren. I watched their relationship longingly and just kept thinking about how I'll never get to witness that love, and my sons will never know that relationship. And it tears me apart when I attend a wedding and watch the father walk their daughter down the isle and dance that beautiful father daughter dance together. Because I never got to experience that, because my dad died 1 week before I met my husband.
But you know what, just like you on mothers day, those situations are NOT. ABOUT. ME.
They are beautiful and the essence of what makes our world go round. I would never ask someone else to compromise the love they have in their lives because of what I am missing in mine. I choose to celebrate them and their relationship and am proud every time I see love shared between two people in this world.
It'll be ok non-mama. You have your own beautiful life in your own way, and I have my own beautiful life in mine. And my life gets more beautiful every time I have the blessing to share in others joy.
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Good Friday: My testimony
At the age of 23 I had just gone through the roughest year of my life. I was in the process of a bitter nasty divorce and my father whom I loved dearly, had just died of complications from alcoholism. I couldn't have been more confused and lonely and scared. I wasn't a pronounced Atheist, but I might as well have been. Being a christian didn't make sense to me. Prayer seemed like a sham and if God was even real He seemed like a heartless mean man. I was headed no where fast with tears in my eyes and a bottle of vodka in my hand, and I had no way out.
I attended church when I felt like it with my now husband, both our families went to the same church. so we joined them periodically, but the times I did go I was cold and bitter. There was a wall of resentment built up in my heart for the things that had happened in my life. All I wanted to do was cry during the service.
Fast forward about 4 months to late January 2009 to a sermon I heard on forgiveness. The sermon that changed my life forever. The problem with the issues that I dealt with in my life at the time is that there wasn't anything I could do about the actual problem. There was nothing I could do to fix the fact that I felt my dad had chosen to die and there was nothing I could do about the way my ex husband was treating me through our divorce. And so I was angry. I was SO angry with them.
But that's the problem with holding onto anger towards other people, there is NOTHING that you can do to fix them. The only thing that you can do for the situation is to fix yourself and how you deal with the situation, and the only way that I could deal with myself was to first to forgive the people I was mad at, and to forgive myself for the choices that were made that might have led up to my built up wall of anger.
I learned about Jesus. I mean, I knew who the guy was, sort of, but I didn't really know. I had no freakin idea what Jesus would do to my life. I learned about how He died on the cross. I learned about how he sacrificed His LIFE in order to forgive us for our sins and that maybe I should give that a shot and forgive others for their sins.
It wasn't an easy task or a quick process by any means. It took years to figure out what it really meant to forgive people for their sins. It took a long time to make peace with my life and it took a lot of digging up the past before I learned that what I really needed to do was make peace and forgive myself, and then fix myself, before I could start to really forgive others. And it's still hard.
Our pastor has this saying, Right Foot, Left Foot. Its the simplest saying with the most powerful meaning in my life. I am an addict, former, recovered, what-have-you; ask any addict how their doing and they will tell you they are never recovered. It's a constant battle of anger and anxiety. But Jesus CHANGED MY LIFE and taught me that I could forgive myself for my mistakes and that the ONLY way to get through this life was to walk it one step at a time, left foot, right foot, with Jesus by your side and in your heart.
Good Friday is the day that Jesus died on the cross. The day He paid the ultimate sacrifice in order to forgive us for our sins. So pray today. Pray to be thankful of all that Jesus did for us. Pray for Jesus to give you the heart to UNDERSTAND what He did for us. And pray for the peace to be able to forgive whatever it is that is going on in your life that is causing your wall to build up.
Every time I hear people ask about God and how I know if He is real, I think about my life when I was 23. I know God is real because of the way He changed my heart and made me able to get through the day without crying, without drinking away my sadness, and without fighting with anyone. And I know, that if I do fail, that he will forgive me, and He will love me more, again and again.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
The pride-less place of starting over
I thought about writing this post all day yesterday, but alas I was too busy to actually sit down and write it. Definitely the bane of my writing career. Time... So I brushed it off as I do all of the other long lost blog posts that never came to be and went about my day. But while we were at small group last night a girl mentioned same concept I was thinking about all day.
She started talking about starting over from square one and what a scary and pride-less place it is to be. Maybe a sign that I should sit down and write this post huh?
I have been teaching yoga for roughly 5 years now. While I'm no guru I do think of myself as experienced with a special knowledge of the human body especially when it comes to athletic performance. However, I got injured somehow someway during my pregnancy two years ago and I have been fighting it on my own thinking I could self teach my way out of this pain and frustration of an injury.
So after the birth of my next baby I decided to give PT a shot to see if they could teach me some magic that I just wasn't thinking about. The first exercise the PT showed me were pelvic tilts. She had my lay back and tilt and tilt and tilt. I've tilted a few times here and there in the past. Almost every yoga move requires a good tilt before you set your position so I as I was tilting I was wondering what this ever so basic move was going to do for me.
Obviously my face read of my thoughts because she then explained to me that we needed to start over from the most basic foundations. That with a chronic injury of the hip/back region, something is wrong deep down inside in your core (your tranversus abdominis) and you need to fix it first in order to progress forwards.
I started to think about how I missed the most basic aspect of fixing an injury, taking a step back and evaluating the situation; the same way it is so important to do that in life. As we grow in our practice we tend to think we've gotten over baseline skills, and that once we conquer those skills we can keep pressing on. This is what I did. I kept saying there was no way it was something I already know that is the issue, it has to be something more... something deeper. So I kept pushing myself and pushing myself and always came out of it with my same injury.
If you've run a marathon before then you're "better" then the 5k distance right? You've mastered that skill. Yeah, tell that to the lady that is re-learning how to run a 30 minute 5k after birth.
In life we tend to want to fix ourselves in that way as well. We assume because we are beyond the basic fundamentals of life, we've mastered those fundamentals. It's only in the times of pride-less starting over that we learn we have NEVER mastered ANYTHING! We must always be students. We must always been the teacher laying on the PT table saying "I don't know anything. Teach me." And not only do we need to speak these words, but we need to be honestly and openly receptive of them.
She started talking about starting over from square one and what a scary and pride-less place it is to be. Maybe a sign that I should sit down and write this post huh?
I have been teaching yoga for roughly 5 years now. While I'm no guru I do think of myself as experienced with a special knowledge of the human body especially when it comes to athletic performance. However, I got injured somehow someway during my pregnancy two years ago and I have been fighting it on my own thinking I could self teach my way out of this pain and frustration of an injury.
So after the birth of my next baby I decided to give PT a shot to see if they could teach me some magic that I just wasn't thinking about. The first exercise the PT showed me were pelvic tilts. She had my lay back and tilt and tilt and tilt. I've tilted a few times here and there in the past. Almost every yoga move requires a good tilt before you set your position so I as I was tilting I was wondering what this ever so basic move was going to do for me.
Obviously my face read of my thoughts because she then explained to me that we needed to start over from the most basic foundations. That with a chronic injury of the hip/back region, something is wrong deep down inside in your core (your tranversus abdominis) and you need to fix it first in order to progress forwards.
I started to think about how I missed the most basic aspect of fixing an injury, taking a step back and evaluating the situation; the same way it is so important to do that in life. As we grow in our practice we tend to think we've gotten over baseline skills, and that once we conquer those skills we can keep pressing on. This is what I did. I kept saying there was no way it was something I already know that is the issue, it has to be something more... something deeper. So I kept pushing myself and pushing myself and always came out of it with my same injury.
If you've run a marathon before then you're "better" then the 5k distance right? You've mastered that skill. Yeah, tell that to the lady that is re-learning how to run a 30 minute 5k after birth.
In life we tend to want to fix ourselves in that way as well. We assume because we are beyond the basic fundamentals of life, we've mastered those fundamentals. It's only in the times of pride-less starting over that we learn we have NEVER mastered ANYTHING! We must always be students. We must always been the teacher laying on the PT table saying "I don't know anything. Teach me." And not only do we need to speak these words, but we need to be honestly and openly receptive of them.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Gratitude - This Bed.
If I could put the image of gratitude into a photograph; this is what it would look like.
.png)
I am not sure I have ever been so grateful for an object as I am for this bed. Its not a great bed by any means. There is no real structure, just a frame to sit on, the cheapest box spring we could buy, and a mattress that was given to us by some generous friends that had an extra in their guest bedroom.
But since August of last year this bed has consisted of a mattress sitting on the floor of my in-laws basement where we lived for 6 months. You wanna see something funny, watch a 9 month pregnant lady get up 3 times a night to pee off of a mattress on the floor. Yikes.
Having this mattress on the floor during this time in our lives was pretty metaphorical. It was uncomfortable and ugly and cold. Because it wasn't in a home that was ours. It wasn't supposed to be there, it was waiting till it found it's home when we found ours.
As most parents do, once we moved and began the process of reassembling our lives our bed was put on the back burner of making sure our 3 boys each had comfortable places to sleep at night. We eventually purchased a box spring so our bed got a little taller. Then last Sunday when our parents came over the day we got back from the hospital after the birth of our 2nd little boy together, they brought our bed frame with them and my husband set it up that evening.
Sounds pretty normal right? I'm sure most people reading this have done that simple act of setting up a bed without a second thought.
That next morning (moooorning) our 2 year old had woken up around 4:30 with a nightmare so my husband pulled him into our bed with us, and I was laying on the other side of the bed with the brand new one, both were asleep in our arms. My husband looked at me and said "I'm so happy we have two." ...and my heart swelled 3 sizes that night.
My husband's and my relationship changed dramatically during the months that were the most desperate for us. In the 4 years we have been married we have changed from kids to grown ups. Again, you might think this is a normal process for people, but it's not. Not everyone puts in the time and effort to grow up as they should. When we started dating 6 1/2 years ago we became best friends instantly and made a ton of memories, but we were kids. We were fools. Through our times of struggle and growth, something clicked and we grew up; we grew closer to God, less full of ourselves, and replaced it with a never ending fullness of love for our little family.
Laying on our bed that night I felt complete and so indescribably thankful for this very simple item in our warm quiet home that our tiny boys could feel so safe and comforted on. I was so thankful for the memories I knew that would be made on this bed with our brand new family of 5 and the love and warmth our boys would be able to associate with this bed, even at 4:30 in the morning, and my heart was so full for the man across from me on this bed, on the other side of the 2 boys we had made together and the life we had built together from young crazy kids to this perfect home.
"This house is starting to feel like my home. So let's make it beautiful." - Sent by Ravens (song below)
This Bed.
But since August of last year this bed has consisted of a mattress sitting on the floor of my in-laws basement where we lived for 6 months. You wanna see something funny, watch a 9 month pregnant lady get up 3 times a night to pee off of a mattress on the floor. Yikes.
Having this mattress on the floor during this time in our lives was pretty metaphorical. It was uncomfortable and ugly and cold. Because it wasn't in a home that was ours. It wasn't supposed to be there, it was waiting till it found it's home when we found ours.
As most parents do, once we moved and began the process of reassembling our lives our bed was put on the back burner of making sure our 3 boys each had comfortable places to sleep at night. We eventually purchased a box spring so our bed got a little taller. Then last Sunday when our parents came over the day we got back from the hospital after the birth of our 2nd little boy together, they brought our bed frame with them and my husband set it up that evening.
Sounds pretty normal right? I'm sure most people reading this have done that simple act of setting up a bed without a second thought.
That next morning (moooorning) our 2 year old had woken up around 4:30 with a nightmare so my husband pulled him into our bed with us, and I was laying on the other side of the bed with the brand new one, both were asleep in our arms. My husband looked at me and said "I'm so happy we have two." ...and my heart swelled 3 sizes that night.
My husband's and my relationship changed dramatically during the months that were the most desperate for us. In the 4 years we have been married we have changed from kids to grown ups. Again, you might think this is a normal process for people, but it's not. Not everyone puts in the time and effort to grow up as they should. When we started dating 6 1/2 years ago we became best friends instantly and made a ton of memories, but we were kids. We were fools. Through our times of struggle and growth, something clicked and we grew up; we grew closer to God, less full of ourselves, and replaced it with a never ending fullness of love for our little family.
Laying on our bed that night I felt complete and so indescribably thankful for this very simple item in our warm quiet home that our tiny boys could feel so safe and comforted on. I was so thankful for the memories I knew that would be made on this bed with our brand new family of 5 and the love and warmth our boys would be able to associate with this bed, even at 4:30 in the morning, and my heart was so full for the man across from me on this bed, on the other side of the 2 boys we had made together and the life we had built together from young crazy kids to this perfect home.
"This house is starting to feel like my home. So let's make it beautiful." - Sent by Ravens (song below)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
LinkWithin
