From Tattered Boots to Sandals of Righteousness

From Tattered Boots to Sandals of Righteousness

Many years ago, I drove River Road to pick you up for a bite to eat. No matter how old I get my heart always misses you. Upon my arrival, there you stood dressed in your finest camouflage. As we neared the restaurant I could see your unease about something.

“What is it, Uncle James?” I asked.

You looked down at your tattered and worn boots before mumbling something about the dirty state of your boots. That was an easy fix, I pulled into Walmart and bought you a new pair. Before you took those old shoes off one last time, I will never forget what you said.

“These boots have walked many a mile. I have walked through the woods in them, and they have helped me carry out many a deer after hunting. They have been with me as I skinned many a fish. These old boots are surely wore out but they been some good ones.” I watched with tears filling my eyes at the beauty of the words you spoke. You picked up the new box and began to put the worn pair into it.

“What are you going to do with them?” I questioned.

Without hesitation you replied with a chuckle, “Throw them away, they aren’t worth nothing now.”

Oh but they were worth something to me so I kept them. Those boots might have looked tattered and torn, but to me they personified My Uncle James. They reminded me just how many miles you have walked in this old world, how many paths, creeks and riverbanks they had accompanied you on. They made me reminisce about the days you came home so tired from a long day of work, then fishing to the point you collapsed from exhaustion on the couch. I couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4 but I would crawl up and lovingly unlace your boots before slipping them off your feet. I used to daydream about what adventures they must have saw that day. Even then I knew the importance of your shoes. I knew you would need them to be strong enough to endure mud, water and rocky terrain. I prayed daily in my child’s heart that those shoes might keep you safe.  Then I would snuggle up to your chest that smelled like the forest, pine needles and fresh air. I would fall asleep in such a peace that I couldn’t describe. You were my comfort then, my assurance in an uncertain world.

Fifteen years later, I still have those boots. I have kept them like a treasure for they come from the feet of a man I hold dearest to my heart. I pulled them out today, Uncle James. Tears began to pool in my eyes as I stood in awe and wonder as I gazed upon the state those boots were in. Mud covered them, around the seams I could see the thread starting to loose, and the cloth on them was cracked. I wondered how long you wore them in that condition before seeing fit to get a new pair. I thought of a lot of things, how you always put yourself last, and our family first. How no matter how tired you were you always managed to put food on the table even if that meant fishing after a long day working in the sun. I clasped those boots to my chest and wept. My tears flooded my cheeks as I thought of days gone by but the true thing that touched the depth of my soul was the irony and significance of those boots.

You see the man who used to wear them, he isn’t here anymore. I loved that man, despite the things he might have thought he failed at…he never failed at loving me. He was a good man, doing the best he knew how to take care of us. But I did not grieve for him for the man that stepped into the righteous shoes of God somehow overshadows the man before him. God knew all those years ago that one day you would strap on a pair of shoes, shoes of righteousness, shoes of peace, shoes made for dancing in God’s presence.

My whole life you were the best fishermen I knew, but don’t you see God wanted more? He knew you could catch fish to feed us and we never went hungry physically. Yet the Lord saw a hunger in this world and said, “I am going to make this mighty fisherman, satisfy the hunger in a world where people are spiritually starving.”

And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.” Mark 1:17. You see, Uncle James when you cast your net this time you caught me and reeled me in. The food you had fed me before had long since dissipated. All these years later, I followed you into a church building where God fed me spiritually so that I will hunger no more.

And the angel said to him, Dress yourself and put on your sandals.” And he did so. And he said to him, “Wrap your cloak around you and follow me.” Acts 12:8

What a miraculous thing he has done in you. He has cloaked you in his armour and put sandals of righteousness upon your feet. I no longer have to worry about what condition your boots are in for the shoes upon your feet will never wear out.

It reminded me of the long journey you endured to get here, just as the Israelites as they wondered the desert.

“These wineskins were new when we filled them, and behold, they have burst. And these garments and sandals of ours are worn out from the very long journey.” Joshua 9:13 When we walk in the world all things lose their newness and began to fall apart…the Lord doesn’t want us to wear tarnished clothes weathered from this world instead he wants this….

But the father said to his servants, “Bring quickly the BEST robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet.” Luke 15:22

Long ago before Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice, He gave us this promise.

John answered them all saying, “I baptize you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirt and with fire.”

Reading that scripture took me back to my childhood and me unlacing your shoes. But the shoes you wear now, they cannot be unlaced for they are anointed with the holy spirit. When you buried that old man in the water, I didn’t cry for the man you left behind……I leapt for joy, I danced in rejoicing for the new man came forth. A man who has the full armour of the Lord upon him. A man who can stand upright, who can share the love of God with others, who can find rest in the Lord when he is weary! I say to you this day, you have washed the dirt from your feet, your long trek through the desert is over. I thank the Lord that my Uncle James’s feet are now covered with sandals that can endure forever….for the God has taken you from the desert and brought you to a place of milk and honey. How amazing that we now get to walk in the newness of God? Thank you, Uncle James for all the sacrifices you made for our family. Thank you, for being obedient unto the Lord when He lovingly took your hand and told you to come be refreshed and washed clean because in doing so you were a light to me. I never dreamed there would be a day that our family would be together again…oh but God did. When I am feeling defeated I need only look in front of me to see your blue eyes beaming with a light that comes only from the Holy Spirit. I never thought I could love you more but somehow I do. Thank you, Almighty God for transforming the man that lit up my life as a child into a man who is a light to the world. So, today I am thanking my Father for bringing the only father figure I have ever truly known to the throne where he can dwell at the feet of the King of Kings!!!!!!!!

I love you!


April Renee



Aunt Sheila

Dear Aunt Sheila,
I just wanted to take a few moments to say some things that are on my heart. Life has a way of getting hectic, and in that chaos some times we forget to remind those we love how much they are loved by us. I am guilty of that mistake. I hope you know how very much I love you, but I am not sure that is possible. So, I thought I would take a minute to tell you some of the many reasons you are adored by me. I am not certain I can capture every emotion, memory, and thought that I am hoping to convey; the list is quite bare with me.
You are so many things to me. When I think of you my heart longs for my childhood. Some of my very first memories have you wrapped up in their depths. You were the person standing by my mother’s side the day that I came into the world, and the one that picked out my middle name (which by the way I love way more than my first name). As a little girl, if you were somewhere, you were sure to find me some place nearby. When I had to have my arm casted after falling off a bicycle, it was You that I screamed for to hold my hand before they put me to sleep… were my refuge. I was teased mercilessly for being your shadow but I never minded. Where you were there was love, and it drew me to you. You are a ride in the back of an old el camino….a crowded trailer on lane road filled with love, laughter and a few squabbles…but this will always be the place I remember.You are a Saturday morning with a bowl full of cereal, and powdered milk as me and my cousins gathered around the tv for cartoons. You are the patient hand who tirelessly guided me to learn to embrodier, or string a trout line (although I never mastered either). You were a home cooked meal at the table or a platter of fish on the coffee table so I could snuggle with Uncle James and watch westerns with him. You and Uncle James were some of the greatest parts of my childhood, especially the nights you guys let me sneak in and sleep beside you. It feels like yesterday we were picking blackberries off the vine, and I can still smell the honey suckles in the summer breeze.
I will always hold dear the nights we walked to the river, I played in the mud with Beth and Dale while you fished. All our many summers spent camping on the sandy beach……little did I know then that I would always wish for just one more. I think of you on a raft and me paddling you out into the river, just talking and enjoying each other’s presence. I think of the nights we snuck back home for a hot bath, before climbing into the bed reading in silence to whichever book we fancied… were the first person who taught me how to dog-ear the page to keep my place in the literary piece that I was reading. On the very lucky nights, you would make me your apple cobbler and some vanilla ice cream on top…..this will forever be my favorite dessert. I have tried to master it but it never tasted as good as it did when I shared it with you, snuggled up in the covers, books in one hand and a bowl of cobbler in the other………I think that it was not only your recipe that made it taste so good, but your company.
You taught me about soap operas, and while all the older kids were at school, we would sit and watch them……again, I enjoyed this, not for the content but just because I got to be with you. It seems like yesterday you were doing laundry and having me put the clothes out on the clothesline, or bring them in before the weather turned bad. More than once I was drenched in rain before I made it back inside with the freshly dried linens, but I didn’t mind. You are the reason that I still love tomato macaroni…a dish not many people even know exists. I used to sit and watch your hands sew, stitch, and embrodiery tirelessly. I would look at those beautiful hands, and think how amazing it was that you could weave to life such intricate designs. I still have my first baby quilt, and my daughters have slept with it. Each stitch of my name, a reminder of the love and time you spent to make it just for me. When we moved to Nashville, it was this blanket that I clung to on the nights I missed you guys so much that I could barely breathe, and my tiny hands would trace each stitch knowing that your hands crafted it before finally drifiting off to sleep. You gave me my first friends……my cousins, thank you for that.
Time has made me grow up, build a family of my own, but that doesn’t dampen the impact you have had on my life. I love you so much, Aunt Sheila, and I just want to know that you was always my favorite aunt, as a child and for always…shhhhh don’t tell anyone wouldn’t want them to get jealous. Thank you for loving me, thank you for loving my Uncle James and lining him out when he needed it, thank you for Melissa, Dale, and Beth. Thank you, for just being you, because it has helped me be the person that I am today. You are loved more than you could ever know.
Love always, your niece,
April Renee

Phoenix Rising

A few months ago, if someone would have told me my journey would be where it is, I wouldn’t have believed them. I was unsure where my life was going. I was uncertain where my joy in life had gone. I knew not where this emptiness I felt had sprang up from. I didn’t know why I felt so broken when by all appearances my life was good. I didn’t know, but my God did! He had been pursuing my heart, he had been knocking but I hadn’t fully opened the door.

February 18th, 2020 I was invited to a unity rally. I attended to support my Uncle in his journey to God. I had no expectations for myself….oh but God did. During the service, I could feel the Holy Spirit moving. I stepped out of my seat and bowed down to whisper a prayer that God would come down and fill my uncle. I began praying fervently for all those I loved. Praying God would fill them up with His spirit….and He said, “I am going to fill you to overflowing.”

He made good on His promise. The Holy Ghost set a fire in my bones that I didn’t know was stirring. I surrendered right there in the midst of a church full of people. Everyone around me disappeared and it was just me and my Father. My heart split open, and the door I had cracked was swung wide. To my amazement, I didn’t have to seek Him, because as I was bowing He ran to me. “Welcome home, My Prodigal Child.” He whispered as He swept me up into His comforting embrace. All the broken pieces fell back together, the emptiness was filled, the joy reinstated and I felt so complete in the indescribable way that only God can complete a person.

I left that service hungry for more. You see, for 18 years I had not received the gift of the Holy Ghost and even that one time I only got a partial filling. I had been walking in the desert, all I could see was sand and the heat of the sun baked my skin, my lips were so parched they cracked and bled. Evem . I had resigned myself that I was to dwell in this dry, endless place. On my way back to my earthly home, I felt a lightness I hadn’t felt in years. Fear crept up inside me…what if I couldn’t receive the Holy Ghost again. “Oh, Jesus, I cannot be absent from your presence. I cannot go back to wondering in that desert.”

The next morning I hurriedly dressed to attend morning service. I chugged my coffee and sprinted out the door. Would He meet me there?  Could I reach Him? What if He only touched me once like before and I couldn’t find my way back to Him. I just want to touch the hem of your garment, Jesus. Meet me there, Lord, and just brush me with the hem of your garment. Uncertainty crept up like it always does, fear that I might not know my way back to Him. Oh, Lord, please don’t retreat back into Heaven and leave me me back in the desert. I was prepared to beg as the service began. I was prepared to prostate myself before him, a humble beggar for the crumbs of the Spirit I could feel stirring in that tabernacle. I cast my head down as tears flooded from my eyes splatting on the floor. I wanted to make myself as small as I could be as I felt so unworthy of Him but my soul craved His presence. Before I could kneel He rushed upon me, He ran to me the way I was preparing to run to Him, and a still, small voice whispered, “You have been down there long enough. I don’t want you to touch the hem of my garment, I want to robe you in it!!!!  You don’t have to beg, I have been waiting for you, my Beloved.” I felt my chin lift from my chest and my hands that were clasped in prayer shot up as my soul listened to His words. Still a doubt remained…”But God what do I do?” “Come, bask in my presence, for today My Beloved came back home!” That was all it took and though I had come to the well for a sip He poured His well on me. Joy overflowing came from the tips of my toes to the tips of my hair! I could not contain it. I had no idea what He was going to do with me but I needed to shout. I needed to dance with My Master. I needed to bow before His feet. I needed to leap, to jump, to run, to rejoice….and I did not know which to do first…..So I surrendered and the Spirit. He overflowed my cup; my unquenchable thirst was quenched. A spring of joy bubbled up, laughter and a tongue from another realm spilled from my lips. I couldn’t stop the laughter and it was a balm to my soul.

I walked into that church a pile of ash; burnt from the world and all it’s deceits and lies. Embers of smoldering soot, for my spiritual fire had been neglected for so long that the flame had died. But alas, He knew His plans for me. God had met me there at that unplanned church event that He had already planned for me to attend. He saw the ash, He saw the embers, He saw the soot…..and He was not repulsed by my lack of faithfulness at fueling my spiritual fires. No, He gathered each ash, every ember, collecting them like tiny treasures in His hands. Once He had painstakingly gathered each and every one, along with all the tears I had shed, He breathed His breath life onto them. Flames sprang up from those ashes and my earthly vessel was engulfed with a fierce Holy Ghost Fire!  I allowed the it to burn every single thing that needed purged inside me at that moment, and I was unafraid even though  I was sure I would perish at any moment.  He was molding me, He was creating me once more, He had placed me once more on the potter’s table and He was making me a new creature in His Name! Then a still small voice poured His balm upon me, a balm of peace and triumph, and the voice grew louder, “Rise Up, RISE UP!!!!!!!!! From the ashes, I have brought forth my Phoenix!!”

I went to church a pile of ash but I left a Phoenix rising. As I rise up from oppression I can see the chains break as I spread my wings. I can fill the wind of the Heavens as I break the chains and soar out of the mirk and mire into the Heavens. Gone, is the April who was a piece of coal being burned over and over by the world… it’s place is the April that isn’t afraid of the fire anymore because the fire that consumes me is Heavenly. Gone is the April that was but a smoldering of embers……and in it’s place is a flame so bright that I want the whole world to see. I will keep rising up for Jesus. I will walk through the fiery pits and not be burned. I will sing His praises until He calls me home. I never want to go back to that desert…..for I know the Heaven that awaits. So if you see me smiling, or worshipping or praising God, either join me or get behind me. I will not be stopped, I will not be subdued by man. You can either join me and sprout up your wings or you can watch me fly but you will not clip my wings!!!!!!!! Oh hallelujah

God’s Garden


I step into the abyss. I whisper to you, as I step out into the unknown, “Where am I treading, Lord?” You are a God of actions so your response is a lamp at my feet. I can only see as far as my next step but not to the destination. I walk that path happily to my Alabaster Box, my secret place, My Ripped Veil…I am on my way to meet you and my feet cannot go fast enough. I swing open the door to hurry into your presence, I feel you swirling through this tiny place filling it up to bursting with your spirit. I come here so you can continue to direct my feet upon the path in this world that you want me to tread. I come here to enjoy your companionship. I come here to pray, praise, shout, sing, and dance before you. I strip my flesh off like a sheep’s wool, so that my spirit might be all that comes before your holiness!

In these walls, the world falls away. I care not about who might hear my war hoops as you call me into your spiritual army. I forget about the worries that plague me for I know you have gone before me to take care of them. In these walls, it is just You and I. I have come to dance with my King. I care not that my husband is bewildered by my silhouette as I bend and sway, leap and twirl, shout and laugh. I come before you but a humble servant and yet you call me your Beloved.

I look out my window at my backyard. It is not the prettiest to see as the shade has made it impossible for even grass to grow. My view outside is one of mud and dead leaves. That’s ok, I whisper to you, for my garden is being built inside this sacred place. The world outside looks ugly and defeated, reminding me I once looked that way as well.  Inside here I am tilling the ground in my soul and toiling to pull the weeds that have sprang inside me. I only want beauty here. I only want you to see the beautiful things I have to offer. I have no flowers to offer you, only the meager fruits of my labor. It isn’t much, I say to you but you call them lovely.

I don’t have much to give you, Jesus. I am not a talented singer but I will sing anyways. I turn on my music and I lift my voice to you….I wish I could make a beautiful noise unto you, I say as I sing from the core of my being. You whisper to me, “Listen.”

Suddenly the vaulted ceilings that echo my voice back to me is foreign. That voice is harmonious, it rings through this place and falls back onto my ears. How can this be? I cannot carry a tune, Lord? His response, “I created your voice to sing my praises, and this is what I hear when you sing to me!” I weep with such gratitude that He sees beauty in all that I do for him. I continue until my voice is hitting every note, ringing through to my upper room and falling back down upon me. I feel goosebumps cover my body as you swirl and dance around me. My voice rises through the rafters and I hear other voices joining mine. “My angels have come to sing with you. You are singing in my choir.” Oh the joy, oh the amazing honor to with your angels. I can feel the brush of their wings as they join me in my praise.

I open my bible and you feed me scriptures. How magnificent to know you are in my midst. I consecrate my little alabaster box with my tears, my words, my worship, my heart, my soul, and my dance. For you have swept me up as I toil in this garden I am crafting with you. I use your tools, my gardening trowel is your hands digging out the unholy things. My shears are your holy spirit as it prunes me so that I might bare fruit. Your Holy Spirit is my watering can as you sprinkle new life into the budding of flowers that are sprouting forth. I could toil in your garden all day and yet walk out without blemish,  lily white.

I began to think of how you found me in the valley. I think about the lily in the valley. “Observe the lilies, how they grow. They neither labour nor spin. And yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendour was as beautifully dressed as one of these.” For you have wrapped me in your robe. Oh, Lord let me be a lily in your valley, I prayed. For to be a lily in the valley means “return to happiness” it symbolizes chastity, purity, happiness, luck and humility. I hear your still small voice, “You were my lily. I did not want you to linger in the valley any longer. You had been there long enough so I plucked you up.” Oh, Jesus thank you but what will you do with me now that I have been plucked?

All day this phrase rang through me, I was so grateful he brought me from the valley. Yet, I didn’t know where he would plant me next. A hush fell upon me, “I will plant you upon the mountain so that you can be a witness of my goodness.” Oh, how you love me like no one else!!!! Still the thoughts raged in my mind. If I am set upon a mountain I can no longer be a lily in the VALLEY? What am I now, Lord? “For before you were a lily in a lowly valley, now you are on the mountainside. You are my vibrant daffodil. You represent that the winter is over. Shaped as a trumpet to announce that spring is coming…you symbolize faithfulness and friendship. You have burst forth from a cold, long winter to be rebirthed in my kingdom!”

I wept with sheer gratitude that he might call me to be set up high, to be delivered from a valley to not toil but to bloom where he planted  me. I simply had to go back to my Alabaster box and give you praise for holding me to such high esteem. But alas, telling me wasn’t good enough because as I was sprinting to my secret place to greet you I found something that took my breath away. For there beside the stepping stones that I trekked so frequently from my sunroom to my prayer closet was a splattering of daffodils. They were staggered like footsteps right beside where I walked to meet you. For you were walking beside me and planting a flower with each step so that alas I can look out my window and see the garden you are planting for me! Spring is here, I say, Spring is Here! The time of rebirth is now. The time for faithfulness is now! The time for worship is now! Do not falter in the cold, hard ground, spring up! Won’t you spring up and show the world your vibrant colors!! Come out of the valley. He wants his people on the mountain sounding their trumpet! What are you waiting for? Be colorful, be beautiful, be bold for Jesus and He will plant your path of righteousness with beautiful things!

The Moments That Count…and All That

To my darling girls….if I could repeat all tmy mistakes I like to think I would do better. The truth is, believe it or not, I truly strive to do my best every single day that I am your mom. Some days, I feel indestructible….other days I feel like an utter failure. I am not sure what disturbs the balance…I wake up with the same mentality every morning, be the best mom that I can be. Some days, I take you to work with me then we head off to the pool. I soak in a little sun and then I soak up all of your sweetness in a few sweet but glorious hours. Other days I have to lose my mind to get you to stop fighting with your sister, or to sit down and I have to have a come apart to get you to chill. It is such a struggle…….where’s that happy middle? What am I doing to tip that scale, or even it out? I am so unsure that I question what in the world I am doing raising two children when I clearly have no clue what I am doing.
On those days I lay down at night after you have drifted off into oblivion. I look into your room as your sweet lashes grace your cheeks, pink from the sun, and I feel so deflated. I recall all of the ways I could have parented you better that day. All of the tiny ways I failed to be the best version of myself. I think back to the way I over-reacted and screamed when I could have remained calm. I think back to the face you made as I was scolding you and wonder if I am damaging these gifts I have been given? Then I weep.
I weep because surely God must have made a mistake handing off such prized possessions to such a failure like me? I weep for all the words I spoke in haste and aggravation…….surely a good mom would mind her tongue? I weep because I am giving you all that is left of me and it will never be enough. I weep because nothing will ever be enough for you…….because even the best still doesn’t measure up. I lie awake at night, long after you have drifted off to sleep and I weep.
Most days I am not my finest. I am literally just trying to make it through my day…and that makes me ashamed. I wish I could just stay at home and love you girls but there are bills and things I want you to have…so me and your daddy work. With that comes exhaustion, stress, and busy schedules. I could cry just thinking of all the things I have yet to do tonight at 6:30 pm, which will take me until midnight, and I have to get up at 6 to clean 3 more cabins. We go, and we go, and we go…until we are all wore out from the week, exhausted, over extended and just plain over it……then we all lose our minds for a minute.
I like to think that I purposefully took Fridays off because I knew I would need at least one down day to absorb the chaos of the week, unwind and embrace you girls. The truth is I took that day because all my clients wanted it and I decided that I would use that as my down day. Down to go to the pool, down to nap, down to clean my own house, down to spend my day with you or take you to a sitter and get a pedicure. It was my day to decide. The truth is I can’t remember a Friday I actually took for my own needs. Every single time I try to do something for myself on a Friday I wind up wishing you were with me. So, goes our summer…….if it is sunny on a Friday we are at the community pool. I am sitting poolside reading a parenting book or writing and watching you girls play. That is our typical down day. I normally jump in every 30 minutes to play with you and cool off that is….until last week.
Last Friday, turned out to be the downest-bestest day of all. I sat in my lounge chair taking notes on all the things I needed to do before the end of summer. I am soaking in the sunshine, and feeling pretty accomplished at the amount of things I completed that week. Then a shadow fell over me and I worried that perhaps the forecast had changed to rain. I pulled my book down from my chest just in time to hear, “Mom, I know you just want some peace and quiet….but would it be okay if I sat with you awhile?” That familiar lump crept into my throat and I managed to whisper, “Sure, Braelyn, sit with me anytime.” I pulled a lounge up next to mine and you sat quietly for a few minutes but I could almost hear your thoughts jangling around in your mind.
“You ok, Brae?” I ask as I rest my hand on your scrawny, tan knee cap.
“Yes, Mom, I just don’t understand life some times.”
“What don’t you understand? Maybe I can help you if you just tell me.”
These conversations were few and far between with my first little darling. But when they came I knew to sit aside whatever I was doing and take heed. Although my oldest baby struggles to state what she thinks I have learned to speak her language. A language of love, a language foreign to most people I listen with my heart on these days.
“I don’t know why Brynlee makes more friends than me and I have to be lonely in the pool. I try to be nice to people…and all that…but she just makes them like her and they don’t like me.”
Side note (and all that, is her current saying fixation)
“Oh, Brae, I think she just keeps talking to them and playing with them until they become her friends.”
Insert Braelyn logic, “So I have to be annoying to make friends? Just keep bugging them until they play with me because that is what I been doing. I been talking and playing and all that but they are still not my friends. It is pretty boring without even one friend out in that pool.”
My heart literally crumbles into shreds as I hear my sweet, innocent, purest little love confess her view on the world. Her real, honest, true view. No blame placed just a genuine heart trying to figure out where she fits into this world and having no idea that she was in fact my WHOLE world.
I laid that book down and picked up my daughter. I am in fact 5 foot tall and 115 pounds. I did indeed pick up her 4 and a half foot, 85 pound body and carry her into the pool. I also disregarded everything I was reading in that parenting book she interrupted. I cradled her in the water with her sweet little arms draped around my neck and those arms will always be my finest gems. I let her head rest in the spot that connected my neck to my shoulder the way she used to when she was just a baby. I felt the hot tears sting my cheeks as they slid from under my sunglasses. How has it been 10 years? Where did the time go? I am not the mom I dreamed I would be. I am not enough. I should have been in here enjoying my daughters instead of tanning. I continued to berate myself, refusing to acknowledge the tiniest bit of good in me. You prayed for kids, you actually begged God for kids for 7 years….for what? So you could ignore them while they felt isolated at the pool and you tanned? You seriously got bent out of shape this morning when they could not find their shoes in a timely fashion? You don’t deserve these kids…
“Mommy, I remember when I was with God and I told him that I wanted you to be my mom. He is so awesome isn’t He, Mom? He knew I needed you to be my mommy for when I was lonely in the pool and all that!” Her blue eyes lit up with the heavenly light she had brought into my world and a quiet sob escaped my lips.
“Don’t cry, Mommy sometimes I think about how lucky I am and I cry too…and all that!”
I squeezed her until my lungs filled with oxygen and my tears finally abated. For this day, I would allow myself a win. I would allow myself to feel like I had successfully loved my children with the degree of love I wanted them to feel every single moment, of every single day. I played with them, and I realized it was unrealistic to show them love this unabashedly every minute of every day but I allowed myself to pretend I was going to. I just let go and loved them, accepting that moment as sheer happiness. I took in their sweet profiles, the way the sun danced off their tanned skin and the pink on their cheeks and I cried tears of joy. I tried to steal away that moment for days not nearly as bright. It was really perfection, their little blonde heads were kissed by the sun and their smiles were upon their lips. I could sit in the sun all day and their laughter would out shine it… every. single. time. So, maybe, just maybe I was living my best life, maybe I was being my best self, maybe I was being a good mom today……..and all that….


A Mom Who Is Doing Her Best…and All That

A Mommy is Born

January 16, 2009

That was the day….a day like any other day in January. It was fiercely cold outside, the temps dropping into single digits, it was also two days after my 27th childless birthday, and every birthday the same frigid weather entranced us as every year prior, but all in all it was a day as to be expected in our region. By all means it seemed to be a normal day in the midst of winter. The snowflakes pelted from the sky, hitting my warm cheeks and melting. This day, two days after the day I was born was going to be a day remembered by all as the miracle I hoped for or a day of great despair. I loaded up my two door sports car with baby gear….which in itself seemed to contradict itself. I allowed myself to glimpse my watch, it was only just midnight, but it felt like the hours, the minutes, and the seconds were ticking by at molasses speed. I knew that I wouldn’t get much sleeping done, so I did not even try. I walked into the house, checking and rechecking every single check list I had made… me there were a LOT of lists. I walked into your pretty, rosy pink nursery, lovingly touching and rearranging every thing until it was all in place. I ran my hand over your crib suppressing the happiness that tugged on my heart. Would this truly be the last morning that our home was childless? Would this be the final wee hours I would awaken to deafening silence? I traced the flowers, butterflies, and letters on the fabric, willing you to be there. I must have loaded and reloaded my car a hundred times, whilst my loving spouse, Scotty, slept in the room adjoining your nursery. He had stayed up and we had spoken at length about your arrival, both of us excited, and anxious for you to come home. But as most men do, he fell asleep, leaving me with my thoughts…..and oh, did I have thoughts. I had barely slept in the passed 2 months, preparing for you, worrying about everything under the sun, smiling and then crying because some crazy fear would creep into my happy dreams.

I am not sure how it happened but alas, the sun finally broke, I woke Scotty and ushered him to the car and we made the short trek to the hospital……Today, was the day, the day I met my child…..I pondered, yet my inner dialogue kept teasing me I felt too afraid to get overtly optimistic. The other side of me kept whispering over my shoulder, “It is just another day, you will leave here empty handed.” “She will keep her.” “You aren’t meant to be a mother.” I almost shouted aloud for that voice to shut up! We were sent to a private room which was void, no cards, no flowers, no visitors, only dank gray walls and sterile furnishings because no one visited someone when they aren’t sure that person would be a parent at the end of the day. I spruced the drab room up with a diaper wreath, a few blankets, a small bear, all the little bows I had for you, and a few outfits. The nurse updated us that they were about to deliver you and I busied my hands. I sanitized the entire room wiping every nook and cranny, I folded and refolded your outfits, then a knock at the door revealed a nurse that looked like she had grave news…my heart stopped. “The baby is here, she is doing well, but the biological mom has decided to take her to her room.”

Legally, I had no rights to voice a concern about MY daughter going to someone else’s room when we agreed there would be no one holding her after delivery. Yet, at the same time, how could I even be angry? This woman was potentially giving me my child, the greatest gift a person could ever want. The pessimistic side of me kept rearing it’s ugly head, “You know she will keep this baby.” What makes you think after 8 miscarriages, that you will actually be a mom?” On and on, my world spun until I was dizzy sitting upon it’s axis. I sent a prayer upwards and made my way to the nursery glass…nothing could have prepared me for the immense emotion that would engulf me or the beauty that awaited me there. I looked inside the nursery windows where at least half a dozen babies rested or screamed in their little carts….yet my eyes landed on you. I cannot explain how I knew YOU were my daughter but I felt it to my core. My breath caught in my throat, my finger longingly traced your outline. You were crying, rather fretfully, and this tug in my heart almost made me jump through that glass and pull you to my chest. I have never in my life felt so many emotions at once, I was so happy, I was so scared, I was so excited, I was so anxious, and I laughed, cried, even screamed, within short intervals of time. I gazed at your face, your fingers, your hair..and in one instant you were imprinted upon my soul!!!!!! Inwardly, I knew that I had loved 8 faceless babies, 8 miscarriages before I even heard the beating of their heart and they haunted me like ghosts from another life, threatening to send me spiraling over the edge of sanity…..but you were different. You had a face, you were here, you were real, you had hair the color of honey that my fingers ached to touch, blue eyes that were brighter than the northern lights and I couldn’t wait to see them looking up at me, tiny feet engraved with the wrinkles of a babe that I wanted to kiss…..I was pulled to you! You were only a pane of glass away but yet you felt as unattainable as the babies I had lost. I cannot do this, I kept thinking, I cannot lose her……..then they wheeled you out of my sight.

I sat in my room, completely entranced in prayer, my mom and husband were nearby but I didn’t reach for them. I was too busy with my own doubts and fears that I couldn’t fathom entertaining all the questions and worries they had. I got in my prayer closet, which at this time happened to be a hospital bed. I begged silently and although it seemed like days… was only four hours and a wrap at the door reeled me back to life. “She is asking for you to come to her room.”Quickly, my husband arose and was reprimanded with the single sentence, “She only wants, April.” I tried to appear brave, glancing at Scotty telling him that I was strong enough. I was strong enough to walk into a room, look upon my child’s face and be told that she wasn’t mine after all. I knew full well I wasn’t strong enough……but I could hear your screams down the hall and it had taken all of my will to not lunge the short distance to you. Because something in my heart told me that you needed me and I knew without a doubt I needed you.

I walked into the doors, trying to appear confident although my shaky legs threatened to let me topple over at any second. The lighting was poor, but as I pulled back the curtain, she sat there, holding you in her arms, and the urge to swoop you and run was stronger than ever. Somehow, I kept my composure, I looked at your tiny face, all bunched up in a grumpy frown, and your cheeks red from the exertion it was taken to show your disapproval with this new place. I glanced at her, this woman, this extraordinary woman who had just birthed you, then her eyes met mine. “I’m sorry, April.”

My knees buckled and I felt my world slide away, but then I felt a hand on my shoulder, “I didn’t mean to keep her so long. Are you ready to meet your daughter, Mommy?” I choked, I cried, I gasped but somehow my arms were steady when she placed you in them. My gratitude to her could never be defined but I looked down upon your face that had moments earlier been fretful and red had immediately gone into a restful sleep.

“She knew you were her mommy and not me! The moment you picked her up she knew that is where she belonged.” Her birth mother smiled a smile genuine and true.

I swear I saw a smile cross your tiny rosebud lips. I smiled down at you and kissed you atop your soft hair, “I sure have missed you my whole life. But you were worth the wait. I am your Mommy, and I have waited my entire existence for you.” You were and always will be the best day of my life.”

I let the tears pour from my eyes with such a force that I thought for sure I would drown you with them. I lifted you so that at long last I could smell your fluffy duck hair; it smelt like Heaven. I kissed you every inch of your face your brand new skin was so soft. After a long hug, there was so much I wanted to say to this woman who had handed me the greatest gift in my life, but no words would come. I looked at her and she nodded, because she knew exactly what my mommy heart was feeling. No words were needed, for no words would have done justice to this miraculous moment.

I had to fight myself not to race you down the hall in your little cart because I wanted to show you to your nanny and Daddy. I opened the door to our room and they both sit stoically. They were sure I was going to come into that room without you, but when I wheeled you in the whole room lit up. Your daddy’s face was wrecked with a mixture of emotion, relief, excitement……and an all-consuming love for you. Nanny began praising God and I joined in as I handed you to your father.

“I don’t remember them being this little. Look at all her hair. Am I holding her right? April, we have a daughter!” He embraced me with you pushed between both our hearts and at last I felt like a real family. I felt so complete. I watched as Nanny cried and kissed you before laying you upon her chest. I will forever remember that image as I glanced over seeing you both sleeping and knowing that if you were both that peaceful that everything would be alright! I resisted the urge to go pick you up because I longed to feel your weight against my chest but instead I just sat and watched you sleep!! Daddy wrapped his arm around me and for the first time since we found out you were coming….we felt sure that you were home in our arms.

“Can you believe it, April? We have a daughter!” Scotty whispered into my ear as I pressed my head to his chest.

“I can’t believe it. She is so perfect! Today our Braelyn ReAnn was born. Today, I became a MOMMY! I get to be her mommy for the rest of my life……” I responded to your already snoring father…this is what contentment felt like, this is what motherhood felt like, this is what family felt like….bliss, happiness, joy, love…..and completeness.

I couldn’t stand you not being in my arms any longer. I walked over, gently scooping you up. I pulled you in, I put your head against my heart, “Braelyn, my heart beat is forever changed because it has you engraved upon it now! Can you hear it singing your name? My sweet baby, you mended my broken heart and I don’t know how it ever beat without you! My whole existence I have been missing you. Missing this little face that I had never seen. I have searched the whole world over but until today you weren’t here…..this day, January 16, 2009 I found the missing piece to my universe.”

You were asleep, I stared at you with wonder. Your perfect face was turned up towards mine, your tiny little mouth was shaped in an “O” as you slept and I knew you had know idea what I was babbling about….I felt the tears sting my eyes, I felt the familiar lump in my throat….this was what being a mommy felt like. “I am not worthy of her, Lord. She is perfection. You crafted her just for me! I know I was impatient, I know I was begrudging some times because you were not answering me. Forgive me, God, I didn’t know your hands were busy molding this miracle. She was worth the wait. I give you all the glory because you loved me enough to make me her mommy!” I cried tears of sorrow for all the times I lacked faith, all the days I was angry, all the times I tried to do things my way. All the while, God loved me enough to create you anyways. If He never showed me favor again, He had showed me more than I deserved in a million lifetimes. It has been ten years now and I keep thanking him every time my eyes land on you. I still stare at you in wonder at your beauty. I still get choked up at the realization that I am YOUR mom because you will forever be the best birthday gift I will ever receive!

Dinky Do Turns 7


Dinky Do,

Well, my beautiful little love, it is your 7th birthday today. Every birthday you or your sister have makes Mommy a little emotional. Each one for different reasons. The first one was because you weren’t technically an infant, the second one because you were officially a toddler, the third one because you were in between a toddler an a little girl, and on and on it goes. This year…well it is your golden birthday, the day you were born and the age you are at. I can remember so vividly the day you made your entrance into this world, and it is lost on me how that was 2555 days ago! You came into this world a wise soul, independent, fierce and you were your own person from day one. It was like you knew who you were before you were born. You are not afraid to ask for what you want or need. You are strong-willed…stubborn even but that will serve you when you grow up. Each year I think, I wish I could just capture her at this age and keep her here. I would love to go back in time and kiss the top of your soft wispy hair as a newborn, I would love to watch you once more at one mastering walking and saying mommy, I would relish in talking to your two year old version and hearing the sweet voice still full of babyish innocence, I would relive and revisit each one of your years of life.

The thing is, my tiny Brynlee Jean, with every passing day you blossom, you grow, you emerge a different little being and it is both bewildering, and bittersweet. This year, I have noticed so much change in you. Not only your appearance which morphed from baby cute to stunningly beautiful. You carry yourself with such confidence and you are just sure of who you are. I envy that you don’t need or ask for anyone’s acceptance of you, you are a take me or leave me type of girl, not willing to conform just to impress someone. That makes me proud as I know when you get a bit older you will be sound, and rock solid on your beliefs and won’t be swayed by others that may try to influence you. I see in you a fierce leader, not because you are bossy, but because you are diplomatic. You may be no nonsense, all business most of the time but you are fair, empathetic, loyal and you will be the first to stick up for someone you feel is being wronged or hurt. You are this wisp of a thing with a personality that is bigger than life.

I watch you with your sister, and it is my absolute favorite thing in the world. You two fight, you squabble, you bicker, and you even get sick of each other. But, the bond you share is magical to behold. Although, you are the little sister you aren’t afraid to play the caregiver role. From the age of two you were talking for Braelyn, telling others what she needed, like you had your own shared language. Your sister is much different than you which is what makes you both special. She likes to be cared for, taken care of, and being assured that she is still your best friend at the end of the day. You aren’t one to be lovey dovey….you get that honest except when it comes to you girls and your cousins. You would rather eat dirt than tell Braelyn that you love her, or goodness forbid give her a hug. But you are a person that shows their love through actions. You will go and find your sister her favorite toy, ask her to join in with you playing a game that you don’t like just because she does. You will defend her even against me and that makes my heart grow knowing that whatever comes her way she will have you by her side just like I have your Aunt Boo. You promise Mommy, that you will never stop watching out for her, ok? She will need you through this life and trust me you will need her.

A few months ago, I witnessed a new side of you that just brings tears to my eyes every time I recall it. We were at Chuck E Cheese, which we don’t visit often because it is chaos, and it gets expensive pretty quick. But on a whim I decided to let you girls decide what it was you wanted to do, and that is what you chose. I put 15 dollars on each of your cards so you could play the games. Your sister paused to take a minute to take a picture with me. You, however couldn’t be bothered with stopping for a picture (you get that from your dad), so you ran along to play a racing game. I went back to my booth and watched you for a bit. A while later you both returned to eat some pizza but before going back out to play you realized that you had laid your card down somewhere that had all your remaining tokens on it. Braelyn quickly came to assist finding it, and after we all searched alas it was gone. Someone had picked it up. I had told you when we arrived to keep up with it because I wasn’t going to buy another one. You weren’t going to ask me too either because even at six you knew it cost money but that didn’t stop the big tears from welling in your eyes. Without a single thought or prompting your sister reached into her pocket and got her card out and handed it to you. You just stood there, the tears you had been holding back fell silently to your cheeks and Braelyn said, “You can have my dollars, Sissy!” I watched as you felt the love of a sister, the sacrifice she would give to spare you pain, the fact that she was selfless enough to give you her card although we don’t visit this place often..and it surprised all of us when you (the one who never hugs your sister) without thought jumped and grabbed her in a sincere hug openingly crying in gratitude for her small but very big gesture. You embraced her for at least two minutes and Braelyn picked you up and held you until you had finished the moment. I sat there with a lump in my throat and tears streaking down my face. That was the most innocent, heartfelt, sincere and genuine moment I have witnessed. You took her hand and I am pretty sure she would have gave you every token she had every day for the gratitude you gave her in that moment. Until the day the breath leaves my body I will remember that moment. The moment you realized the worth of your sister, the moment you realized she was always in your corner, that instance that you were mature enough to grasp a straw of what having a sister truly entails.

I am so proud of the little girl you have become. It makes me sad to see you growing up but excited to see how you will blossom in the years to come! I love you, Dinky Do!



Put Your Best Face Forward

Every parent goes through what I call, “the busy season of life.” You know that stage where as a mom or a dad you are pulling up all nighters, not for the fun of it but because you have a fussy baby, a sick toddler or a child that refuses sleep. You are wearing clothes that may or may not have a bit of food or perhaps spit up on them. You wonder when you enjoyed a long, uninterrupted bath and you just feel like you are surviving.

When my girls were babies I swore that when they became toddlers, then I would make time for me. Then they became toddlers and I swore when they became school age THEN I would take a second to take care of me. Well, my girls are officially 9 and 7 years old now…..I could keep making excuses because let’s face it…for the rest of our life, our children will need us. They will need us during their teenage years, their college years, then they will truly need us when they also become parents. So, the beginning of last summer I began to see that parenting is a lifelong gig and if I wanted to be the best version of myself it was high time that I began taking care of me.

My huge wake up call was when my then six year old asked me, in the most innocent and honest way possible, “Mommy, why do you have those lines on your head?” Talk about hitting you where it hurts. I calmly responded some nonchalant response, but it got me to thinking and really taking a long look in the mirror. I did NOT like what was staring back at me. My appearance didn’t look the way I felt on the inside. I thought I would pamper myself, and buy some skin care a friend of mine was selling.

But, just like all parents do, I kept thinking about how could I possibly justify investing in my skin or my face when I could buy this or that for my children. However, I couldn’t quiet that voice inside me that popped up every time I caught a glimpse in a mirror. Who was this woman staring back at me? She looked tired, deflated, her eyes were puffy, droopy, dark and lifeless. Your reflection is supposed to be just that…a reflection of you. THAT was not me! I didn’t want my daughters to grow up thinking that they were the last priority in life! I always put myself last, it was part of the gig I would tell myself. I was lying to myself!

You don’t have to be a martyr to be a good parent! Yes, our kids should always be a priority but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be a priority at all! This is the face you will greet your family with every day, the face that will one day be photographed at your children’s wedding, and the face that your grandchildren will one day look upon. I decided that I wanted their memories and photos of me to be ones that reflected my inner joy!

I contacted my friend about Rodan and Fields and bought myself a regimen! I was hesitant, even a bit guilt-stricken to purchase myself a gift. I figured it wouldn’t work but there was a 60 day money back guarantee. I hopped on board and began transforming my skin! I never thought it would change my appearance, let alone my life!

I have only been using this product about 3 months but my face is no longer red, uneven, my wrinkles are disappearing, and my eyes reflect the liveliness my soul feels! What is better than that? I hopped on the Rodan and Fields journey because I want to share it with every single person I know and even those I don’t! I actually made enough money in one month selling it to buy my own regimen with just that money. The best part is you can earn as much as you want with a little work, plus have great skin! I turned 36 two days ago but look younger than I did 3 years ago….I am aging in reverse! Bring on the birthdays because getting older is inevitable but aging is not necessary! Invest in yourself, invest in your face, invest in your future and your children’s future….the mirror will thank you!

Pip, Christmas is Sharing Germs



Well, this was your first unofficial Christmas with this wild and crazy family that you will soon join! I dare to hope that this year doesn’t set the tone for future holidays! We aren’t doing too hot on the holiday season the last few years. Last Christmas, Auntie A was rushed to the emergency room, this Thanksgiving your brother took a tumble and made his way to the same hospital and then Christmas eve this year, your mommy and brother had the flu 😦 Now, I am a glass half full kind of girl, so I just gave extra thanks that we were all under one roof, sick or not! I even got to snuggle with your mommy so we could let your Daddy get some sleep, and then the next morning I awoke to a sweet, cuddly nephew. (For future reference you should know that I call your brother Fidget).

I got up and laid upon the couch with Fidget’s feverish little noggin resting on my chest and we fell asleep a few dozen times. Fidget has a way of putting your old Auntie A into a sleep induced coma. No one got much sleep Christmas Eve night but with all the craziness the holiday season had brought our way somehow Christmas cheer had found it’s way into my home. There were sniffles, fevers, coughing galore, but we all huddle on the couch spreading love and germs without worry! Everyone’s eyes were a brighter red than Rudolph’s old nose. It was not like any of the previous Christmases that we had shared and your mom and I have been sharing them for a very long time now. There were a few people missing, Nanny was sick and Faith was working…it looked as if it would be a somber day…but it turned out to be one of my favorite ones to date!

I looked over at your Mommy who had given me a fright with her catching the flu bug that had hit everyone I know with her very pregnant with you. Your little heart rate got ridiculously high and Auntie A nearly drove to Illinois to say some choice things to the quack of a clinic that had not treated the two of you! I should have been tired, and I was, but the emotion I recall the most is the complete and total peace in my heart. Your mommy was now on the correct medicines, the doctor had gotten your heart rate down, and Fidget had began Tamiflu, your Daddy had gotten a few hours of shut eye after pulling a very long shift and a stint at the hospital to be sure you guys were okay. Your cousins and myself had thankfully caught the flu the week before so we all just pitched in, hunkered down and made the best of it! We didn’t even cook our usually over the top dinners for an army of 50, instead we ordered from the little corner store, we unwrapped gifts with less zealous than usual but our biggest gifts were already unwrapped.

I looked around and in my 35 years, I cannot remember ever being so content. Fidget got a new pint sized recliner from me, and my heart smiled as I watched your Daddy sit in it and pull your brother onto his lap to watch Baby Boss. I looked over at the first memorable gift I was given…your mommy, her eyelids were trimmed in red, she was coughing but she was laughing too. My girls were playing quietly in their room and I felt like the most blessed person in the world.

You see, Pip, you will hear many debates about what the holiday season is all about but this year represented the meaning of this time of year. We were gathered with the ones we love the very most. Sharing gifts, presents and more than a few germs on this wonderful occasion! It was the beginning of the new family your parents had began in the home where my family had already been completed! Not once did I shy away when your Mommy or brother needed me to give them a hug, medicine or a place to rest their head. Nope, I leaned into those hugs, snuggled tightly up to them and relished in every single second.

Family is rejoicing in the good times and leaning on each other in the not so good times. This year I leaned in, I am not ashamed to say that this year I felt my age. Not in the bad way, but in the way that each second counts. I was present for each moment, I looked at this holiday with new eyes, a grateful, thankful, overtly blessed heart and smiled a big, sleepy, sappy smile. My sister was here with me, with the two best nephews and one pretty awesome brother in love! I know next year you will be here to share with us, the love, happiness and yes even the germs and my heart leaps with excitement! You see, this year what I wanted wasn’t underneath the tree, one of them was sitting lazily in your Dad’s lap, my sister was sitting next to me, my girls were in the next room, and you my precious Pip was nestled under your Mommy’s ribs safe and sound! To add to those incredibly amazing blessings in a few short months you all will be near me every day! If anyone asks you what Christmas is all about you tell them it is about Jesus and sharing everything….love and germs equally! Love you, my sweet nephew!

Your love-stricken,

Auntie A

One Lifetime and a Thousand Dreams

Life is so funny. It moves, it bends, it bows, and it can conquer you if you allow it to…Tonight I had a strange epiphany…I remember growing up thinking what it was I wanted to be growing up…others just knew their purpose…yet, I never had an answer…”What do you want to be when you grow up, April?” As a child it seemed so easy…well, I just wanted to make people’s life better..I wanted to be a pediatrician or maybe a counselor/psychiatrist, I wanted to adopt a hundred orphans, I wanted to speak up for those that didn’t have a voice, I wanted to heal those that were afflicted, I prayed to bring a laugh to just one person’s lips, wanted to pass a little light along the way….I just wanted to make a difference…sounds so simple, doesn’t it?

Today, I contemplated what I wanted to be..then in a rash decision I decided I want to be all of them!! I cannot pick…I cannot possibly live only one lifetime..I cannot just be one thing…I am a writer, introverted and I find solace in a cubby all alone….I am also an extrovert and social, a girl who loves to just make someone’s day a little brighter. I am an artist who finds inspiration in the sunset, the sunrise, the waves crashing on the shore, I am a therapist to all my friends that need me I love my circle; my tribe and those I love, and to my default I give them advice against my better judgement…I just give my opinion which is some days hard to interpret. Bless them for entertaining my optimism and listening to my heart…I simply cannot help myself. I know I will never mother any more children…but I want to love all the children, including the three that I nearly and very possibly gave my life to, and would gladly give again. I don’t have time for just one life…I need more. I want to spend at least one life hugging my kids, another writing a book on a forgotten back road, maybe one more painting a landscape on the patio of my plantation farm in Maine beside a forgotten light house……if I get lucky quite another life loving/saving animals or people…things that I love. But, don’t you see, I am only one me…one me, one life to live, 70 years if I am lucky to fulfill all of my wants and desires……By those calculations I am half way there and that terrifies me.

I have had so many people ask me why I waste my talents. April, why aren’t you published? Why aren’t you a renowned artist? Why don’t you have a degree in medicine? etc etc…I could do any of those things if I chose to be devoted to that but that is my problem…..I have too many faucets of my personality to figure out who I am in one single lifetime…yet that is what I must do.

I don’t have a grand gesture to ensure all my friends will be alright…you will not be alright…You will suffer, you will fail, you will fly and you will fall…not a fairy tale ending I suppose…the truth is if you are reading this blog you know those things never don’t get to choose your destiny…you get to choose your path though. I love a man I would have never dreamt I would love but here I am, all in, all present, and I love that man with all that I have….ONLY, one man. You see your heart is resilient..had a friend tell me that being broken is just part of life (forgive my lack of exact quotes) but you know he was so right…when you are whole, complete, totally intact…well life is easy…yet if you are broken, fragmented, piecing yourself back together well…the good news is that broken form of you will come out a better version of yourself!

I am not sure what I am supposed to do in this one frail life I have besides hope that someone hears the words I speak or reads the words I type on blank pages….I wish to be more. Yet today, I will find comfort in scrubbing someone else’s toilets because it makes them happy, I will relish in my daughters’ arms around my neck, a little bracelet that says “Mommy”, and a little blonde haired boy that thinks his Auntie A is the funniest thing ever to grace the world! I will choose to give a little love, a lot of grace, and even more understanding to those that find themselves falling on hard times…….perhaps, that is all of my purpose? Perhaps, my calling is to lighten others burdens? I pray, before my time ceases I can do just that…love beyond measure and leave this world better than I found it…but if I should be granted more I have a thousand lifetimes in my heart, and I would be happy to live every one…since this is the only life I am promised, I am okay to just be me, because for today it is enough!