Category Archives: Son

Small Acts of Love

Is it just me or did the colors of fall come late this year? Back in early November when this area typically sees fall in all its glory, I was sure fall wouldn’t be noteworthy. However, over the last couple of weeks it’s been beautiful. This tree caught my attention today at the park. It lifted my spirit.

I’ve been fighting a bit of a cold and have been a tad ‘Ba-humbug’ this past week. The cold conquered my voice and not having a voice is challenging (to put it nicely) as the parent of an eight year old. He’s a lucky soul that he listens…mostly 😉

It’s hard to believe it’s the first of December. The start of advent season is here. Having grown up in church, I’ve always heard about advent, but frankly, never really thought more about it. For me, it was just part of the season, part of the holiday. A candle that was lit each Sunday until Christmas. The actual definition of advent is, the arrival of a notable person, thing or event. Well, that does sum of the days leading up to Christmas fairly well. Advent, the days that lead up to the coming of love. A love like no other. A love this world needs – desperately.

At home, we’re doing an advent chain. There are mini bags for each day hanging in our kitchen window. To start, someone will place a small token in the day’s bag that makes them think of someone else in the house and then that person gets the token that day. The next day, the person who got the gift the day before is responsible for selecting the token for another person. Simple, small acts of love.

Small acts of love and kindness. Very important things this world is in so much need for. Today, I had taken my son along with a couple of his friends to play at the park. When we got there the playground was fairly empty of youngsters running about. As our time at the park progressed, I watched families and kids come and go. It got fairly busy at one point. During this time something else caught my attention and lifted my spirit: the children. I found them incredibly amazing.

I was most intrigued with this apparatus that is much like a modern day merry-go-round.   It stayed consistently filled with gaggles of kids and they each took a turn to push. I did not witness one argument between any of the kids that would come and go. It didn’t matter the age, ability or the appearance of the children that visited the ride. At one time, there wasn’t an open spot available on the merry-go-round. As it would glide around in circles, there was a cycle forming each time someone new taking their turn: leap off, push, hop on, laugh, squeal, lather, rinse, repeat. From the smallest to the tallest and the youngest to the oldest it was simply joyful to watch.

At one moment, a very young girl toppled off and let out a cry. The entire gang stopped the wheel figured out if she was okay, helped her back on and then proceeded to spin. Talk about small acts of love. Talk about kindness. Talk about compassion. Talk about gathering around someone in their moment of need. This is how the world should be. We shouldn’t stop working together. We shouldn’t stop caring. Not because of age, or gender, or race, or ability, or beliefs.

I love the purity of children. The way there is a genuine and authentic acceptance of others, whether they look like them or not. The pact of children is how love and the world should work in the most simplest of terms: if you’re kind, willing to play, take your fair turn in the work, and look after others – you’re in. It starts there. Nothing else matters. That is what’s born in us, that is what’s natural to us. It’s society that teaches us what it feels matters and so many times, what it’s telling us is unnatural to us. Our hearts know different.

It’s the whole reason for advent – the gift at the end of this season is love: undeniable, unconditional, uncompromising love. For all of us. Not just some of us. It was given to all of us. It stands for all of us. It sacrificed for all of us. It’s fine to enjoy your turn on the ride, but also be willing to take your turn to push; and when someone falls, we all must stop and help lift them back up.

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Glowing Great+Full

As I opened my blinds this Thanksgiving morning, the freshly-wet-from-rain, brown-orange-golden view made me pause. Millions of leaves lay disarray covering the ground in their final resting place. A few still clung to their branches, the trees almost appeared to be aching for them to finally let go. Each piece prepping for dark and stillness. Until next year…

The scape was simply stunning. The leaves going out with a bang. The scene made me recall a quote I had come across recently: “What are you going to do with all that dark?” “Find a way to glow in it.”

This year has been a life altering year. Having been put in situations I would have never dreamed of, there have been some dark moments. It’s been a time of crumbling, a time of changing, a time of letting go of a tree I was so deeply rooted in. Much of this year I have felt like a withered fall leaf floating, bouncing around controlled by a strong wind, trying desperately to find the ground – someplace firm to land – to finally rest.

Sipping my morning tea while trying to enjoy my favorite coffee cake and the view, I feel a sigh escape my body. In no way do things remotely resemble how I imagined them to be. It saddens my heart. I feel full. Full as in ‘that’s enough, please no more’. I need a breather. Can someone else tag in for a bit?

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As those feelings are toying with me, I glance down. My wrist reminder pulls me back. ‘Athas’ the Irish word for ‘Joy’. A token from a trip I took this year. A reminder. A saving grace. A word I fell in love with years ago. That word makes me crack a smile. I love when I see it pop up in life. It always makes me pause and take another look.

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So I look again and when I look this time, instead of full I see great. My beautiful view. My little boy. My favorite coffee cake. A beautiful fall. The smell of a turkey smoking. My family. Pictures I adore that make my heart smile. A sweet four-legged little girl. The amazing ladies I work with. Trips with fun and fabulous people. Laughing. On point memes. The sun shining. My favorite tea in a mug that warms my heart. The massive amounts of texts of love and support I receive daily. My tribe. My fierce tribe. I am greatly full.

The year has been a harder one. Autumn is not an easy season as it is for my family. And where I am ‘full’ things are still ‘great’. My current state may be floating aimlessly through the dark in an uncontrollable wind, but there is still spark and color. I see it. I feel it. And I will find a way to glow in it. So many ‘great+full’ moments still ❤

Anything and Everything

The slow rise and fall of your chest, your breath at rest. I could stare at you forever. The tiny blond hairs that run along your body. I could stare at you forever. You’re beautiful, my little love. Made perfectly. Dream. Hope. Believe. My song for you sweet one. Since you were a babe lying across my chest curled in my arms. Love is the only word I can think of when I want to describe how I feel about you. But even that doesn’t seem to fully sum it up. Make a wish ❤ Always ❤

What do you dream about
Look at the stars, honey
All you gotta do is pick one out
And it’s there for you
I’ll be the one who makes
Your every dream come true

Close your eyes and baby
Make a wish and baby
I’ll give you anything and everything
The sky’s the limit and my heart is in it
I’ll give you anything and everything
Anything and everything

Where do you want to go
Look at the world, baby
All you gotta do is just say so
And I’ll take you there
Oh yeah, you know that
Love can take you anywhere

Close your eyes and baby
Make a wish and baby
I’ll give you anything and everything
The sky’s the limit and my heart is in it
I’ll give you anything and everything
Anything and everything

I could spoil you
Make it easy
Make you happy if you let me
Won’t you let me

I’ll be the one who makes
Your every dream come true

Close your eyes and baby
Make a wish and baby
I’ll give you anything and everything
The sky’s the limit and my heart is in it
I’ll give you anything and everything
(I’ll give you) anything and everything
(I’ll give you) anything and everything
(I’ll give you anything and everything)

Shedding to New

It’s been a while…to say the least. Close to a year. So how do you capture a year? How do you adequately express all of the happenings of a year? We’ve been discussing time in a devotional group I’m participating in.

Time. The indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole.

The book we’re reading dares to suggest ‘time is life’. It feels as though there is so much, yet so little all at once.

I’ve caught myself noticing the little things lately. In the midst of all the big: husband’s new job, house reconstruction, new puppies (yes, plural), new kindergarten student; I’m finding myself noticing a butterfly, hearing the chickens clucking in the backyard as if in some crazy conversation, a beautiful sky, the smell of dessert baking in the oven, the taste of summer peaches, the softness of puppy fur, the shell a bug shed left stuck on some wood.

This past year has felt, in many ways, like the ending of something. A change in my husband’s determination professionally, the last time I’ll have my only ‘baby’ at home with me, the redesign of the house we’ve always known, the downward turn of the health of our beloved older dogs (yes, again, plural) ❤

I spent the 10 weeks of my son’s ‘last summer before big boy school’ jam packing it with fun times. The first week of school was a blur. It went by quickly. As we get into a new routine, I find myself reevaluating time. My time. I want it to count. What makes it count? Finding joy in the little things? Appreciation for learning? Receiving grace? It’s definitely bigger than the routine of the day to day. Of going to work. Of completing tasks. Of living in monotony.

I feel an excitement. Almost like life is ‘on the verge’ of something. I have found myself recalling the shell of the insect. Not sure many consider it beautiful, but I find myself mesmerized, almost relating to it. What does the bug go through? Is it scared when it realizes it’s time to shed an entire layer of itself? Does it just know? What happens on the other side? What does the new skin feel like? Is it sticky with uncertainty? Or firm with clarity? Regardless, it happens. When it’s time. How beautiful. Isn’t that what life is like at moments? If we stop and slow down, don’t things tend to take their course naturally? Why rush? Why push? Instead notice. Explore. Live.

I wrote this to my new kindergartener on social media as he began shedding his outer layer and is beginning to enter into his new skin: As our final summer day draws to a close, memories of sweet summer time moments make me smile. You are one amazing little guy & I am lucky enough to call you mine while we’re here on this earth. Thanks for one fun summer, Pug! I’m looking forward to watching you grow in your next big adventure. 11781820_920221364704381_1618175037728674927_n I find this could apply to me as well. My only child at home. A new role is emerging. A new routine. A new normal. So here we are celebrating our last moments together in our old skins as we shed and emerge into something new. My only prayer is we take the time to celebrate our new skins just as we celebrated our old ❤