I hear the pain in her voice and see it in tears that linger in the blue of her eyes
It's better, but it's never truly gone
How could he could choose to father her but not be her Father
Selfishly he chased after love, fulfillment, experience and life without her
Miles became an excuse
Time slipped away
Memories (what few they were) haunting and empty
Until she learned to quit expecting of him, how to not need him, and live without him

fathers disappoint

They let-down, lie, and they leave
And in their wake, are the hearts of little girls.
Little girls who question love (the verb) and doubt the possibility of marriage that lasts
Heart wounds, are never truly dulled, and the holes are never fully healed
Girls with leaky hearts become women with leaky hearts
They don't all fulfill the stigma of girls with daddy complexes - running into the emptiness of one man's arms/bed to the next
Some grow up to hope for different and more
Some learn to forgive
Over and over - everyday, for this mess that they inherited, the heartache, the doubt and the years that they had no control over
Some learn to live, to claim what's been waiting for them
The love of a Father
A Father whose inheritance is comforting, secure, confident, hopeful and joy-filled
A Father who sees the sins of the fathers
But chooses to reveal himself to the father-less
A Father who never fails, and keeps His promises for generations
A Father who cares
A Father worthy of the title "daddy"

Some learn to take the hand of this forever Father
And though their hearts still leak,
They find the courage to trust, and there is purpose in their pain
They are no longer defined as fatherless, they have an inheritance
And they have a right-now plan to pursue
Sometimes that's a man, that smiles too big, and asks the question she had thought about saying "no" too a thousand times
Sometimes that's a call to a country far away where they drink coffee and remind you not to sit on the side-walk
Sometimes it's the necessity to be more to your father than he ever was to you
No matter what it is - She's holding her Daddy's hand and it's going to be okay


For my 3 all-time favorite blonde's - I Love you!

Dear Son, [3 Qualities of REAL Men]

You sit as a silent observer,
And when I look at you listening, patient, processing
The coffee flecks inside your chestnut eyes reflect back to me the darkness of the words you hear
Words like "sexually assaulted" "molested" "raped"
And my heart whispers silent prayers that the shadows of this bleeding broken world would never darken your soul but instead make you a champion of right and of good
A warrior for the weak, the needy, the lovely and the loveless
A real a man

Men, my quiet-soulful son, real men
Don't take, they cherish
They don't take the souls of girls wrapped in skin and use them for their own pleasure
Real men see the soul, the weakness, and the loveliness that lies inside the skin and they choose to cherish - honor the beauty, the need, and the uniqueness.  Real men do dishes and laundry and work hard to provide for their families not because women are incapable but because they are givers who cherish.

Real Men
Don't break, they protect
They don't break bones, bruise hearts, fracture dreams or tear skin in selfishness or anger.
Real men sacrifice to safeguard their sisters, and when you're a real man, you see the women of the world as your sisters.  Real men risk themselves to save hearts, bodies, dreams, and the souls of those they get to love.  Sisters, Mothers, Daughters, Wives.  Love is a great responsibility, and you my son have been gifted with souls to protect.
Real men tell her she's "beautiful" when she needs to hear it most (in sweat pants and stains and when it's least expected), Real men forgive and admit when they're wrong. Real men are selfless when it's easier to be selfish.

Real Men,
Don't use, they encourage
They don't carelessly waste those around them for personal gain, popularity, acceptance, or power.  Real men build walls of hope and encouragement around women with words that are true, honoring and intentional.  Real men see through the temporary and focus that which lasts - righteousness, contentment, hope, love, joy, honesty, truth.  Real mean stand for truth, they don't twist it to suit.
Real men listen, cry, and care when it's easier to be apathetic. 

I know what it's like to align your soul with a boy,
Boys take, and use and break
Boys squander the beauty inside, they steal hope, and trap you inside lies of self-doubt and fear
But I didn't stay there
It was the encompassing arms of a man, his disappointment, heart break and his forgiveness that brought me back to life
I have always been surrounded by good men
Real men
And if you ever wonder what one looks like...
Look to your Papa, your Daddy, your Uncles, your Great Grandpa
Ask them what it means
Ask them what they did right, and what they wish they wish they could change
They'll tell you
And I'll be here

The Life of Joseph, And a Mom of Courage

The story of Joseph is complicated, filled with trials and triumphs
It is at times despairing and then hopeful
Joseph was a dreamer, a favorite, but despised, a slave, a prisoner and a ruler
His life was riddled with tribulation
But through it all God was with him

The thought of a child
Wandering - facing impossible circumstances, tests of faith and of will
It grieves my heart
I acknowledge God's sovereignty,
I don't fully understand
But I believe in His plan and purpose
I think of all the mistakes I made
And how my parents allowed me to make them
How courageous
How trusting 
How faithful they were
I can see how God has redeemed me
All of me
The mistakes, the lies
The falters in times of trial
The pain of loosing, the joy in finding the truth
I can see
How I've been refined
How I am still being refined

Yet, when I think of the lives of my children
Though I say I believe
Though I say I trust
And I want to
It's hard to open my hand and truly given these two back to Him
But faith without action is empty
The time will come when the choice is not mine to make for my children
A time when I will have to allow them to make their own mistakes
There will be a time when true faith requires the action of letting go
Believing that God will redeem
Trusting that trials refine and are the only thing that can create perseverance and hope
There will be a time when the only thing I will be able to do is let go and courageously fall to my knees
Petitioning the one who never left Joseph, has never left me
And will be an unchanging constant in the lives of the two I've been trusted with for a few short years

For the love of courage, redemption, active faith, and a constant God,
ME

Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful. - 1 Corinthians 4:2

Comfort Zone

For 30 years he's been my daddy
And he's pretty good at it
I blame him for my temper
And we've never communicated the best
But
He loves me a lot
Loves God more
And makes sure we know he loves mom
He's generous
A hard worker
And today he is 52
Celebrating in a new city
Winding through crowded interstates
Hopefully eating something delicious
Living on the edge of his comfort zone
Growing
Even at 52

Happy Birthday Dad...Love you very much

From six to twenty-six

Surrounded by dirty dishes we sat with fingers tangled
E and C had excused themselves
And instead of starting the dishes you stole a kiss
I stole another
Sweet, passionate and unashamed our lips moved together
Swept away by each other,
For only a moment.
Footsteps heard lingering in the doorway, interrupted and
"Gross" was E's diagnosis
Our longing turned to laughter, and playfully with additonal kissing the dishes got done.
There was a time whether at six or twenty six when witnessing a stolen kiss, or blatetntly intentional kisses shared between my mom and dad was gross
But, now I'm just thankful they still kiss

For the love of love that expresses itself in lip-lock, marriages that last, and my kids thinking it's gross for 20 more years or so,
Me

[Dear Self] When You're 30 Edition

People assume you're responsibly awake and start your day before 7am.

You will get texts wishing you a Happiest of Days starting at 6:30.

Your dad will apologize for waking you up with his call, and emphasize that he did purposely wait "a while" before calling!

Your mom will visit; take you shopping and out to eat, 

You'll talk like friends and soak up the time.

The crab cakes, seared tuna-salad, and ice tea will leave you full and you'll forgo dessert 

What?  

Yep, no dessert.

You'll shop for sales, even though your birthday cash is taunting, begging to burn a hole in your pocket, and 6 days later you'll still have cash to spend. 

The gifts of time and thoughtfulness will be your favorites; 

A homemade card that reads "I love you very much, your just SO old I can't believe your 30 and Awesome" - Ethan.

Coffee and time stolen away while children attend school.

Jewelry that looks just like me.

To end the night you won't attend an elaborate surprise party (cause that not your husband's style),  

But you will be surprised,

And you'll celebrate with family and friends from far and near via video.

You'll cry and roll with laughter as your watch and listen to the singing of happy birthday, 

and memories recounted in both words and acting.

You'll find out that cake, candy and cooking are what some people love most about you. 

Compliments roll off Charlie's tongue and Ethan wants to go on Wipe Out to win you 50,000 dollars.

You'll rewind and re-watch your nephews- songs, "I love you" proclamations, and silly faces.

Most of all you'll be humbled, and honored to be called a Christ follower, a good mom, and great friend among other things.

The words of love, praise and encouragement from those who mean so much to you will overflow your cup already so full and continue to echo in your mind building you up and reminding you keep being YOU.

For the love of turning 30, laughter, tears, shopping, coffee and expressions of love

Me

Run

Because it's good for you
And because someday your dad might ask to join you
You'll leave him on the hill
The humid air will torment your Mucinex dependant lungs
The hill will make you want to walk,
You'll stop and walk.
He'll catch up.
Between huffing and puffing you'll talk
You won't remember what about
But you'll remember you felt like holding his hand
You won't
But you'll write about it and then he'll know

50 Words

I tried to think of 50-things
To send in a box that you received
This birthday, you're not at home
You're working and serving, but far from alone
You're welcomed and surrounded by an eternal family
I'm so thankful for you dad
You are a blessing to me
So here are 50 words that remind me of you :
1. Dad
2. Daddy
3. Loving
4. Hard worker
5. Faithful husband
6. Papa
7. Fun
8. Fair
9. Talkative
10. Generous
11. Wise
12. Carpenter
13. Protective
14. Handy
15. Logical
16. Elder
17. Strict (but in the best way)
18. Loud
19. Smile
20. Growing
21. Man of God
22. Good with numbers
23. Boat driver
24. Giving
25. Joyful
26. Hugs
27. Too tight
28. Coach
29. Clean
30. Basketball
31. Lake
32. Competitive
33. Our cheerleader
34. Sound advice
35. Smart
36. Leader
37. Honorable
38. Encouraging
39. Forgiving
40. Proud
41. Referee
42. Smart
43. Tearful
44. Strong
45. Determined
46. Provider
47. Example
48. Honest
49. Convicted
50. Godly

Happy Birthday Dad - I love you

Eggs etc.

Remember the movie Run Away Bride?
She kept running because, turns out she didn't know who she really was
I was that girl -
the one that wanted the brand name clothes so I'd be the same as you
and the one who liked the music on your radio, because it was yours
and the one who compromised
and the one who lost her way

But I'm not that girl anymore
And most of it started when I met him - my tall-skinny, dark haired-brown eyed, knight in shining armour who also doubled for court jester
Simply because, he liked me just the way I was
And he still does...

It just feels really great to be me
I'm far from perfect
But I'm forgiven
And although I haven't run (okay lets face it an 11 min mile isn't really running)
So, I haven't jogged in over 4 weeks, my weight's still down AND
I can squeeze into my skinny jeans - the only problem with squeezing is the muffin top that squishes out the top
Jacob says the top of the muffin is the best part...
I put the jeans back into the closet!
I love being a mom, and my kids make me smile as well as prematurely gray
I have great friends
My family is amazing and I love them
Sometimes I say awesome with a very non-awesome connotation
I miss Josh and Abbey
Coffee is best with conversation; and Starbucks, although over-priced, is my favorite
My spaghetti sauce comes from a jar and the brand is Classico
I wish Extra still made the Winter fresh flavor, but Cobalt is a fare substitute
Buying in bulk at Sam's doesn't always save me $ (did you know chocolate raisins come in bulk?)
I'm so excited for Jonas and Megan, awe love!
Redecorating our house has been so much fun, just wish the budget was unlimited
Can't wait to hang my new art-work in my refurbished rooms
I'm praying for this girl
I like my eggs scrambled, just slightly overcooked so they're not watery with lots of salt topped with sharp cheddar cheese, AND over-medium, AND as a veggie omelet, AND as an egg sandwich (whole wheat toast- american cheese and mustard), BUT NOT covered in hollandase.

Not everyday feels this good to be me
But I'm glad today does!

--How do you take your eggs?

A Little PIece of Heaven

In paradise with those who know me best
Flaws and all, frustrations and forgiveness
Joy found in building a sand castle, just to watch the waves wash it away
Peace in the beauty of a sunset while cradled by my husbands arms
Knowing the love that's meant in my dad's rough-housing
Prepping asparagus with a brother, cooking fresh fish, making strawberry shortcake
Getting to know a girl I hope to one day call sister
Listening to my little brother sound just like dad
Watching the excitement of my kids, that's found in contentment with what's around them.
Caring for the tough brother after a jelly fish attack
Chasing a nephew, cuddling the other
Chatting and sharing life with the sister I miss so dearly when I'm at home burried in life
Hugging mom and admiring how she works tirelessly, requiring no recognition
Taking mental (and digital) snapshots of mom and dad being grandparents, loving parents, good friends and in love
Wonder in the beauty of God's creation and the awesomeness of his creativity
Cherishing my husband, and how he notices and cares for me and our children
Listening, really listening to God in my devotion time
Splashing and swimming in the pool, feeding fish and rinsing off sandy feet
Being a daughter
Being a sister
Being a wife
Being a mom
Being an aunt
Being a friend
Being a child of God
Surrounded by children of God
There's not much on earth that's better than this.
Peace-Waves-Sunshine and Joy
Love
me

Words, Honesty, Forgiveness, Scripture, Love -

Words
Good, bad, indifferent
All are open to interpretation
And may be internalized differently by each person that receives them
A word so easily forgotten by one, can cause reflection in another
That's why I wrote Remember - a misinterpretation of forgotten words
Some words are not meant to be interpreted.
Some words are empty and others have weight
Misinterpretation aside my plea was honest
But it may have been just as much for me as anyone
See, I'm great at remembering the crap I put myself through
Inside I know I'm forgiven,
I know I don't deserve to be,
I know how good God is,
I know He's erased it, and yet somehow in his awesomeness He's used it to shape me
So, sometimes I need to be reminded

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man...But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us -- Romans 5:6-8 --
Therefore there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus --Romans 8:1 --

I'm blessed in this life with relationships that are in Christ
With people who are honest
And forgiving
And
No matter how old a little girl gets,
She's never too old for affirmation from her daddy.

Remember

The curls that bounced atop my head
My smile
The kind heart that cared for my brothers
My love
The songs I sang
My voice
The attention I gave to details
My clean room
The nightmares that stole my sleep
My fears
The respect I gave you coach
My talent
The drive to please and impress you
My obedience

Please don't remember me only as the little girl who grew up to hurt and disobey you
I did, I know
But I was so much more
I am so much more
And I want you to remember
Please remember me

Stop and smell the flowers

Car packed and trying to leave
But lingering in the doorway at my parents house
Ethan admired Papa's guns
Noticing his admiration Papa offered a plan...
On our next visit he would take Ethan to shoot
He then gently explained there were rules; how to hold a gun, what to shoot etc. and he would teach him
I watched as the excitement spread over Ethan's face and his eyes widened in wonder
So did Papa's, as the idea of escaping the office and sharing time with the grand kids at the new farm became a soon to be accomplished reality (he's a great Papa).
Charlie, not wanting to miss out, chimed in
"and on the way we can smell the flowers, Papa! - Yeah, that'd be perfect!"
Papa just smiled, and holding back a laugh said
"yeah, Charlie that'd be great"
It's a date: Papa, Ethan, Guns, Charlie and flowers.

Giving me away

Hug me tightly
Kiss my cheek
Clasp the pearls
Cry,
Hold my hand
Walk me to him
Kiss me goodbye
I love you dad

Scars

They are both obvious and obscure
An unchanging-blot, marking us both inside and out
A forever reminder;
On the outside...
*of how our belly's stretched to carry and nourish a growing baby.
*of a first bike ride or a clumsy miss-step.
*of the mole that ended up being benign
*of the fence we didn't quite clear or the knife that we shouldn't have been whittling with
*of the belly-button ring dad never wanted us to get anyway
*of how our chin hit the table, how our teeth penetrated our skin, or how the blade shot through our thumb
Our wounds heal from the inside out. It's a patchwork process that begins from within the deepest part of the injury; slowly our outside is knitted back together- protecting our inside from infection, pain and further injury.
And when we're whole again, we're find our whole is different than it once was; changed and marked. By a patch of thick, often numb, pale tissue.

Internal injuries scar us just the same...except it's our heart, or decision-making process that suffers the marked change.
*it's the miscarriage that makes us question, should we try for more children - and although we don't make the final decision because of the loss, the sting of the pain, the numbness that temporarily replaces it until you can eventually cope forever effect you. We can't pretend it didn't happen, We can't forget, so we adapt - take time and let it heal, and as we heal we scar.
*or the poor-choices made in the name of independence as a teen, and the regret of my sinful-hypocritical years age 17 to 19 - yet, as much as I wish I could rewind and delete those two-year, I can't. So, I press-on, in the hope that I will live many more years sanctified by His grace. And I'm humbled when I think of the wounds, the blood and the pain endured so I can be forgiven and right with God. Because of me...He is forever scarred.

And so as we live life; we get our feet dirty, we scrape our knees, we pierce our heart, and we get our feelings crushed. Our wounds slowly close leaving us scarred, and changed, but healed and living.

Truth Is...

I turned 28 this year.
I'm not a "runner", but I ran 5 miles today.
I am a size XXX (Just kidding- not posting for the world to read), I'll let you know when I'm back in a size 10!
It was a really good day, the kind that makes me happy to be a mom, a wife, a friend, and forgiven.
I have three cavities (blah).
The world doesn't tell the truth (very often).
I need to remind myself what's true.
I am beautiful.
The inside of me is just as much a work-in-progress as the outside.
AND That's okay.
No one is perfect.
I'm really happy for Jonas.
I am so thankful for Jacob, and watching him do the dishes makes me smile.
I am blessed with great friends.
I miss Josh and Abbey.
I was raised in a wonderful family, and they're still wonderful.
No family is perfect, and I can not expect to have the first.
There's a small part of me that's dysfunctional and dramatic.
It's only a small part.
I'm forgiven.
I didn't read my Bible today.
I need to spend more time in the Word.
I want to know my Savior more, so I can be more like Him.
I've felt pain.
Today I'm filled with joy and contentment.
I look forward to meeting my baby-girl in heaven someday.
I cherish the children who are here on this earth with me.
Something we need more of.
I'm smiling and I hope you are too.

Daddy

Thoughts of you...

The scent of sawdust, a pencil covered in wirey curls resting behind your ear
Levi jeans that required constant tinkering
2x4's, concrete, insulation, sheet rock and shingles

And trading it all for
Aluminum shavings, a new kind of blueprint, CNC machines and a desk chair complete with computer
The jeans stayed the same

Campfires, eggs and bacon in a cast iron skillet
The rumble of a boat motor and cool-muddy water
Directions shouted in love and time taken to teach us how to ski

A coach who played to win
A fan who yelled from the stands
And a dad who encouraged me to do my best, and supported me success or failure

Hugs that squeeze tight enough to take my breath away
A playful display of affection for mom
And the phrase "If I didn't give you a hard time, how would you know I loved you"

An example who reads and teaches the Word of God
Prayers lifted up
Songs sung in boisterous spirit, no matter the vocal talent

I love you Dad - Happy Father's Day

Second chances

I'll never forget that day in the driveway...your look of sadness and the words "I thought you were different, I'm so disappointed"
But what I remember most is your strong embrace that came after.
So enveloping and tight; it was almost as if you were shrinking me back, back to your little girl.
The one who didn't hurt you, the one who gave you joy.
But I would bring you joy again; I would be different- not perfect, but different.