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 Indispensable Weaker Woman

When I as little I created a fantastic game
"My Way Day"
It's a pretty self explanatory game
1. Wake Up
2. Decide to play "My Way Day"
3. Enlist younger brother
4. Follow the rule, there's only one, do whatever the person who has dubbed it their day wants to do
What?  You don't think anyone would want to play that with you?
5. Promise your brother you'll play "their way day" tomorrow
6. Enjoy bossing everyone around for the day
7. Decide not to play "their way day" tomorrow

Yes, that really happened, and Mom says that Joshua did everything I told him too...insert your judgment of me here

As a big sister to two brothers I grew up bossing and snake catching and racing and wrestling.
I was one of them; just as strong, just as fast, just as tough - until I wasn't
And I didn't want to be
But I didn't want to be less either
Because we live in this world where women and men are equal
Except we're not

This month is all about being different, exploring it, embracing it, and living it
Men/Women not on my list
But then I read this verse in 1 Peter
"Husbands in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives, and treat them with respect as the weaker partner..."
The verse doesn't stop there but my brain did - because I resented being called weaker
My husband will tell you I'm not weaker - I birthed two babies
A part of me wondered if it was a translation error
So I pulled up Biblegateway.com and kept reading
It was not a translation error
King James, New American Standard, New English, even The Message and The Good News translation
**there are an excessive amount of English Bible translations - another topic for another day**
All translations said weaker, but what they didn't say was less
The verse goes on to say "...AND as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life..."

Weaker
But not less

From day one
I was different from my brothers, because I was a girl
Form birth I had more body fat, they had more muscle
And the hormones that spark reactions in my brain are specific to me, theirs designed for them
Designed
We're not the same because we're not made to be
And
I am weaker
I can't win in arm wrestling, do as many push-ups or beat my nine year old in a 100 yard dash
My roller-coaster of emotion muddies my judgment, winds up my tongue, and sometimes I worry if it's been too long since my last cry
But that doesn't mean I'm less
It just means I am how I was designed to be

"...those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable...there should be no division in the body, but its parts should have equal concern for each other." - 1 Corinthians 12:22,25

Indispensable
Heir
Equally valued
Acknowledging her weakness
Learning how to be okay with my design
Trusting
And Thankful
Thankful that no one in my life ever defined me or treated me as less
But as just me

So I'll raise my girl with a boys name to know she can be herself
And my boy who beats me at foot races to know he has a responsibility
To value life, and each other
As ones designed different but equally valued and loved

Linking up with Meredith -here 

- encouraging women, about women stuff 

And Holley Gerth @ Coffee for your Heart

Tied for last

This just in....I suck at put-put.

I successfully putted into one of the many water hazards, and by water hazard I mean a small pool of running water just off the mini-fairway.  But don't worry I saved my dimpled red ball from the rapids and finished the remaining holes.

There may have been a few mulligans.

Pretty sure, I balanced any successful par holes by taking the 5-stroke maximum on the rest.

The non-competitive, laid-back spouses tied for first with E (5-year old put-put enthusiast).  C was more interested in the rocks and dandelions growing off course - but managed to finishing 9 of our 18 hole game.

Leaving me and my golfing brother tied for last.

What a fun day

Dropped it

The ball that is
You see you turned 23, 10 days ago
So, Happy 23 and 10 days!
You've been far away, and not so far away this year
We've talked more than [I think] ever
I'm glad you want to talk to me
Sometimes you make me feel old
Sometimes you make me feel wise
Not sure that I'm either yet
You've found someone new, dare I say your forever someone
She's good for you, really good
And I may be wondering when down on one-knee/rock moment is, but I we don't have to talk about that
Unless you want to
So when did you say that moment was coming
Are you laughing at me yet
So in your 24th year I wish for you
Joy in the moment
A new pair of shoes
More Monopoly
Less miles on your truck, but the same amount more M-time
Love like you never knew possible
Forgiveness
Smiles and Happy tears
And
I may secretely be praying you get your own Charlie-girl (but not this year)

Love you littlest brother!

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

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.

For my brothers....

To the first, my life-long best friend - who has blessed me with the sister of my dreams:
You haven't always had the words, but you've always been there.
You've been brave for me, protected me and given me confidence.
You've displayed responsibility in your practicality, and I have learned from you.
Although I am older, you are my "big brother" and I love you.

To the second, my child before children - who has blessed me with your sweet spirit:
We are alike you and me, but not the same;
I am more guarded, you more genuine,
I lacking in self-confidence, you saturated and beaming.
We've taken pain in stride, displayed resiliance, and gained understanding.
You are honest and I will always be here to listen to you.
You make me proud, you make me smile and I will forever want the best for you.
Although I am smaller, you will always be my "little brother" and I love you.