What's his name?!?

Sitting with my niece tonight, we began putting together some Thomas the train puzzle pieces. She's so adorable and bright. So we're talking about everybody and who they are:
Me: " Now, who is this, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth: "Edward the Train"
Me: "And who is this blue one?"
Elizabeth: "Thomas the Train!"
Me: " Good! And what about this guy (pointing to the man)- does he have a name?"
Elizabeth: (thinking for a moment) "I don't know?"
Me: "Should we give him a name?"
Elizabeth: " Yeah! Potty Train!"

I'm a groupie...

I’m not a groupie. Well, there was that New Kids on the Block phase when I was in 8th grade. But otherwise, I’m not a groupie.

I’ve been around a lot of name droppers, and I’m just not impressed, really. I don’t think it’s as much of a noble quality in me as it is a social unawareness. The same characteristic in me shows up often and can create really awkward moments.

When we were preparing to move here, I knew Terry Rush’s name. I knew some were really impressed that we’d get to work with him. But I didn’t grow up with his name being familiar or grow up going to the workshop that so many know him from, and I’d never read a single book he’d written. I’d heard a sermon once that did impact me, and I’d gotten a card from him with a neat message that I’d held on to. And when we were first married, I’d remembered that he’d arranged for us to be able to come to the workshop when we couldn’t have otherwise afforded it. When I met him at that workshop, he called me friend, so I assumed he didn’t really know my name….:-)(I was wrong…see that social awkwardness showed up again…) But still, I thought he was nice.

This morning, 6 years after moving here, I had a funny experience. I have a new desk – and I love it. Neat, organized – no clutter except what I’m working on. I want to keep it that way. I’m a little OCD like that.

Except there is this card sitting there, that I opened in the mail yesterday. From Terry. His laughing face after a strike out at the Cardinals camp in Florida this summer. And I want to put it up on the desk. Maybe even frame it, I don’t know. Then I have that fleeting secondary thought…. that I will look like a “groupie” with his card taped to my neat desk.

But it really was fleeting…because immediately I am flooded with the recognition of something significant.
I have worked with this man for 5 years… and despite the many opportunities to see ‘true colors’, my affection and respect for him has not lessened in that time & those experiences, but grown intensely. (And I’m hard on people at times!) His weaknesses are endearing because they only magnify more the strength of our Father’s spirit in him. He doesn’t hide himself, and he doesn’t hide God in Him. His strengths are impacting because they carry the force of heaven behind them.

The smile on this card makes it my favorite one yet… because I live and work and watch the man and know it’s real…I’m changed and different because of his character, integrity and love for our God.

I’m so a groupie about that.

Wedding Ring Logic....

So last night, after tucking him in bed, Eli and I talked for a while about all kinds of things, but the subject of marriage came up. As he played with my wedding ring, he asked me all kinds of questions... He asked about the cost of rings, -did you have to buy the diamond, or could you just get the band?- and which was more expensive. We talked about what a wife would want. At the end of the discussion, he said : "I've decided I'm going to be a miner when I grow up."


I told Jason we need to be praying for his precious wife. I think she'll have to be a Dave Ramsey kinda girl. :-)

Kidnapping logic

So our fam thoroughly enjoyed the long four day weekend -Monday was the first full day I've had with the kids in a LONG time - and it was a joy. We headed to Chick-Fil-A and while sitting in the drive through, Eli, taking an especially friendly turn, rolled down his window and waved hello to a woman crossing the parking lot with her 4 kiddos and a baby stroller tow.
In an unusual reversal of roles for the two of them, Julia was mortified.
"Eli! Stop it! You don't even know them!" she scolded.

"What?!? I'm just being nice?"

"Yes, but they are strangers. How do you know that they're not kidnappers?" Julia warned.

"Well, usually people with that many kids aren't really looking to take any more, " he replied.

Turning around....

Today is a sad day for me. I think it's a good day, though.

Today as we were walking in to school, my son walked a few steps ahead of me. When we hit the door, he headed up the steps, and didn't look back. Even when I said goodbye.
There had been no fight. He wasn't mad. I just realized he was cold. And tired. Of me.

Julia skipped on to class with me, oblivious, and I was thankful.
But the contrast was painful. And I cannot be oblivious.

I think 9 is too early for this. But so is 16. So is 21, and 37 and 54.
Culturally, we tell ourselves this is normal... part of growing up and growing independent. I even let some of those phrases try to reassure me. But I realize that's a lie. Growing up and growing cold aren't the same.


Twice in the last week, he's told me that he's really bothered when I point out all the bad things he's done, and don't point out the good things.
In the few hours I have with him each day, correction is a constant.
If things are going well... I'm just thankful .
I don't balance needed discipline with intentional encouragement.
I'm 'too tired' to be creative or fun... or do much of anything besides just 'get by'.

And I tell myself and my family that I'm doing 'all of this' so I can quit and homeschool our kids next year. At one point I was questioning how much damage from my attitude and this schedule could really be done in just 6 months. And then I realized how appalling it was that I was even asking that question.

Today is the day that I realize everybody else is right.
I've been talking to people about boundaries, and having few, in the name of ministry and in the name of accomplishing goals for my 'family'.
I talk about prioritizing, and haven't - in the name of ministry and family.
All the choices I have in front of me are good.... to not choose one of them... will not "feel" good.
From a heart standpoint... none of the tasks needed or the people behind them are worthy of disappointment. And burnout seems crazy to consider! I'm surrounded by wonderful people!
But that's the point. It's not everyone else's fault.
It's mine.
My passion for ministry changed to a passion of pleasing people. Or avoiding displeasing people. And I don't even have a good attitude about it anymore.
My ministry ... isn't about Jesus.
He had boundaries. He said no to people he loved. He worked hard, long hours. He rested and related to people. And his priority was always His Father.

My family has become a checklist of goals I'm working towards... but not living among.
Saying yes to everyone really isn't ministry at all. And putting my family last really isn't being a mom at all.

How many people have learned this lesson?

Friends have warned me I'm doing too much. But I thought they were wrong. I thought I was pretty strong. I knew it was just for a time.
But I didn't think about the strength of my kids.
Sure... I can hold up this crazy schedule.
But I expected them to go along.
And they do, compliantly, without choice. But not without affect.

How foolish of me. I hate being wrong - but I hate even more being foolish and prideful.
That image of Eli walking up the stairs and not looking back is now burnt into my heart.

Thank you God, for letting it sting. For letting me sob over this. THANK YOU!
Please forgive me for putting You and those You gave me last.
Please give me strength to say no, kindly, to others. Please heal if that 'no' hurts them.
Please give me wisdom to say yes only to what you call me to.
Help me not expend energy in things you didn't plan for me to do. I've done way too much of that.
Help me watch more for what You desire for me to do. Help me turn my drivenness over to you. I believe it is from you, but not always reigned by you.

And please help me now to heal the messages I've sent to my son and to others.
You know how to communicate love. Help me watch You. Closely. Remind me that it's the most important endeavor- to learn from and to emulate You.

That, Father, .....Your love... helps us grow up, but not cold.

Fashion feelings...

Friday was a "Free Dress Day" for the kids. Since it's normally uniform dress, this is a big deal. So I stood trying to pick out a cute outfit for Julia.

A cute green striped shirt with winter mittens on the front. Perfect!

Apparently, not so much.

Julia, diplomatic but obviously disappointed says, "But mom, green doesn't really inspire me...."

Mexico Missionary Retreat 2008

Bags are unpacked... laundry is started... and Eli's crying for the 4th time today because he already misses Mexico. :-) What an amazing trip!
We headed down to Guadalajara to spend a few days with Jason's brother Aaron, before traveling to the unique city of Guanajuato, Mexico for the annual missionary retreat. Jennie traveled to GDL a couple of days early so we could spend some extra time with her too, and it was just an incredible time and an amazing trip. There's so much to share and I don't even have pictures uploaded yet to share! So I'll have to do it little by little.

Friends, new and old. Wow. It's moments like these that we are so humbled by the quality of people we are blessed to be have a relationship with. Jason went to speak and encourage, and because of God's faithfulness I think he did, but we were the ones who surely felt most blessed and most encouraged.

Cindy - I did visit the Mummy museum - and left the fam behind. :-) Aaron, Jennie, Toby and Brettin went with me, but can you believe it- the only souvenir I got was the receipt for the handful of toilet paper I bought when I had to use the bathroom. It was pretty amazing though. I'll be sure not to tell you about it. ;-)

The kids did well. We were taking Acidophilus tablets in hopes of not getting sick while we were there - and one night Eli asked me why:

"Because they will help us stay healthy since the Mexican food could make us sick," I said.
"What does the box say?" asked Eli
"Sinuberase." I said. "Bacilos Lacticos, restaurado de la flora intestinal."
"What's that mean in English?" he asked.
"It means it helps the restore the good bacteria in our stomachs." I said.

"MOM...." Eli asked, "Why, if the Mexican FOOD can make us sick, are we taking the Mexican MEDICINE?!?"

I did have to think about that for a minute....

More reasons I love my 9 year old.

Eli's a teacher at heart. Sunday, he was working up a 'series' that he was going to teach. We have a little dry erase board at home, and so this particular class he was working was called the "Wipeoff Board" Class. :-)

When they came home from church, Eli had Jason sit down so he could hold his first class. It was on the topic of worshipping the 'real' God versus false gods. Somewhere in the conversation, he made this statement that Jason shared with me later.

"Now, a false god might say 'One sin? Not that big a deal.' But then, if you sinned a lot - they would say "That's it! You're OUT!"

OUR God? Our God says one sin is important - but He forgives all of them! "


There is so much truth wrapped up in that one little statement....

DNA & homework

Julia came home with a stack of uncompleted work today. As she sat in front of me working on it, she wasn't moving fast for all the stories she had to tell me as she progressed.

At one point I stopped her and pointed to the stack of work.

"I'm guessing that the reason you have so much undone work is that you are talking a lot at school. Are you talking a lot to your friends?"

"Only a little," she said.

"Well, I'm guessing we need to cut back to even a little less than that." I said.

"I got all my work done on the first day of school." She protested .

"Yes, but we we need to get all the work done every day," I said.

"Yeah, I didn't know anybody that day," She said.


Now, WHO's child is that?!?

Changing direction...

Some of you remember this post from last year.….. Prostitution

Well…. here’s another chapter.

She walked in today.

I’ve actually seen her since that last post. She’d come in once before & seemed surprised that I’d remembered her name. I found that funny, in my own head.
“If you only knew…”, I thought.
But then again, how could she? She’s used to having the shallow conversations most of us have when we just want to get out of an awkward situation. And that day, I was no different. I struggled to bridge the gap between casual conversation and cutting to the heart of real life and real relationship.

But today, when she came in, it was different, and so was she.
Clear eyes. She’s gained weight - not drug-induced thin.
She had work clothes on.
She smiled.
She was calm. She still talked fast, but it wasn’t the nervous fast that people speak when their just rolling their story off to you and trying not to get caught in a lie. It wasn’t the fast speak that says “I’ve told this story so many times I’m bored with it myself and I’m not even sure you’re going to listen but I’ve got nothing better to do than try so here goes…” kind of fast.

She was working nearby, and wanted to take some ice over to the site, if we would let her. So as we walked down to fill a couple of bags, we talked.

Sober for 31 days.
“I know you’ve seen me,” she said. “I’m off the street now.”
Got a job.
In a house.
Involved with a church not far from here.
Excited.
Alive.

She explains the cycle – having tried to get off drugs… but then needing money.. and hustling to make some… recommitting to get off… around and around. She uses language that’s different from our church jargon, but in it she’s candid and more honest than she’s ever been with me.

I tell her I’m proud of her. I tell her about the night that Jason saw her, and that I went looking for her. She cries. And lets me hug her.

Her boyfriend comes in, and I see the same difference in him. And she relays what I’d just told her. He too is honest – even with admitting anger over a situation that had happened here and the violent revenge he’d envisioned. And yet, in the same breath, he relays what God did with that… and how “God is so funny about that stuff.” He tells with a genuine sense of pride about providing a few boxes of pizza for lunch to a business he’d stolen from for 2 years.
They both share their thankfulness for what we’ve done through the years.

I believe them.

I meet people every week that are begging for something and have “found Jesus”. (Hear the dramatic southern drawl that inherently is supposed to validate their salvation and ensure my response to their request that day...)
So there’s a part of me that doesn’t like being taken. Honestly, I hate being lied to. And I hear so many stories that in moments like this, my first response is always guarded, if not downright cynical.

But I realized today, that in her face, I saw the potential of recovery.

Complicated? Yes.
Long haul? Yes.
Set backs? Most likely.
More failures? Most certainly.

But, that’s what messy lives being transformed are like. It's what mine is like, anyway.
Two steps forward, three steps back. It’s still progress.

Most of us tire of walking that long road beside someone.
At times I feel other’s failure must somehow reflect my own. I’ve got to keep letting Christ refine that fear, as Satan is more than ready to hold my hand and walk me into complete in-effectiveness.

Thank God that He works all the time. Never tiring. Never cynical. Willing to use anybody… anywhere. Willing to take us at whatever sober moment we will give Him. Willing to walk the long road, and desiring to work in all of us that will let Him along the way.


As she walked out, we chatted some more. She told me I had permission to kick her butt if I saw her on the street again and I told her I’d take her up on it. (That's a funny picture - but I'm willing to try....)
I hugged her again. I told her that what was most beautiful to me about her today was her eyes. She looked down and then back at me.

“Thank you. I’m not perfect yet. But I know who is, and I’m trying to look more like Him.”

Today, she did.

Grandaddy Miller

My Grandfather died this last week, and so we travelled to Nashville to lay him to rest. I think that's an appropriate term for this particular man - as he continued his life's work until he couldn't possibly continue it anymore. My granddad taught Hebrew and Psalms for 25+ years at Lipscomb University, & authored some biblical commentaries among other things. After after completing the studies towards his PhD at the Hebrew Union in Ohio, he was never awarded the doctorate he'd earned... ultimately because he wouldn't compromise his convictions about Christ in his thesis. As we went through his email, we noticed that his latest work was sent just about 3 weeks before he died - he was working on an online commentary on the book of Isaiah at the request of someone else, and had finished another chapter. Lots was said at the funeral about him- things I hadn't realized about him and some of his accomplishments. (When someone's your granddad - you don't always think to ask such things as he's important to you for other reasons.....) :-) My appreciation grew even more from meeting people who knew him differently than I did.

Eli really took in this reality more than he could before. As we walked into the same house we've been walking into all of his life, he noticed that it wasn't the same. Granddaddy's chair sat there, but others sat in it, and that seemed weird. His walker stood in the corner. His desk and library still looked as if he could come in any minute and sit down to study or write. His razor sat on the counter in the bathroom. We wouldn't want any of those things gone, but they didn't help us believe that he was.
The house was filled so as we left the first day to head to a relative's place, Eli was somber. I asked what he was thinking.
"It's just so sad. It's just not the same without him there. All I could think about was that it wasn't the same and it won't ever be the same."
We all got teary at the truthfulness of that statement.
Except Julia.
"Well," she said, " All I could think about was ALL THAT FOOD!!"
We burst out laughing, (because indeed, there was a LOT of food!). And Eli once again so simply embraced another profound truth.
"I didn't think I would smile at that," he said awkwardly with tears still in his eyes. "But I did." :-)

Death has it's sting. But Christ is victory, and my Grandad fully embraced Christ.

The night following his funeral, I overheard Eli praying. He said, "... God, most of the time people spend their whole life trying to make the world think that they are somebody important. But Granddaddy Miller spent his whole life trying to help the world see that You are important."

This was the absolute truth. He accomplished the goal of his life among his family and many others.
And now, his generations that follow are attempting to do the same.

A passage from his favorite Psalm of all...
"But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord's love is with those who fear Him, and His righteousness with their children's children- with those who keep His covenant and remember to obey His precepts....Psalm 103: 17-18

http://www.legacy.com/Tennessean/Obituaries.asp?Page=LifeStory&PersonID=117610159

More quotables from my kids...

Julia sat with my mom during worship yesterday. As communion was passed down the aisle, she watched Nana take some and pass it on. Afterward she leaned into my mom and said, "I don't believe I've seen you baptized in this church, Nana." Apparently mom took the time to explain that she was baptized a long time ago, in another church. "Was my momma there?" Julia probed. I guess she thought eyewitness accounts might be acceptable.
If anyone needs the communion police.... we've got one. :-)

Eli and I were discussing the appropriate-ness of calling boys "beautiful" and girls handsome. I was explaining that handsome wasn't really a word you could use for girls without making them mad.
Eli: "Mom, can you tell more laws between boys and girls?"
Me: (laughing at his choice of wording) "Well, I'm not really sure I could. There's quite a few!"
Eli: "More than for the president?"
Why yes, I think that might actually be true......

Julia overheard a conversation Jason and I were having about guardianship and wills. I didn't think she was paying close attention until she asked me:

"Momma, if you and Daddy ever die, should Eli and I just get our sleeping bags and go to the church building?"

I don't know if that speaks poorly of us or well of our church family....:-)

Betrayal

My son experienced real betrayal for the first time.
I think the more painful part for me was that it was my choice to let him.- I could have protected him from the truth.
It broke my heart to watch him vacillate between confusion and rage... from self doubt to desiring vengeance. The questions he asked had answers, but not ones that really satisfy. I heard from him this guttural groan of anger from the depths of a place that can't be measured physically. I didn't know that his body held within it that groan, yet.
And, at one point, he told me he wished he didn't even know about it.

I wonder if this is what God experiences when we groan against our painful realities? The truth is, even if I hadn't told him, the betrayal would still have been real. And, the truth is, I knew that there was an even greater reality beyond his pain.
He's experiencing that reality now... working through the options that come with each emotion. And ultimately coming to the conclusion that yes, he can trust God.
I think 9 year olds feel the same as 30 year olds. They ask the same questions... fight the same fights within themselves. But I think they more quickly get to the end of themselves...they rely less on their own strategies and begin to trust God again a little quicker.
One more way I think he meant for us to be like them.

The Facts of LIfe

I knew it was coming, but I kept thinking I had just a little bit more time.

Never doing anything exactly like you'd expect - Eli didn't ask where babies come from, but instead he asked about how children get their physical characteristics. So I take that opportunistic phrasing of the question to see if I can avoid the conversation I keep telling myself we need to have.

Me: "Well, the DNA of the mom and dad come together, and that's what determines what each child will look like."

Eli: "Yeah, but how does it come together?"

Me: "How does what come together?" (Like I don't know.) (Like if I say "What? dumbly enough, he'll forget and go back to playing with Legos.)

Eli: "The DNA."

Me: "You mean, how does the DNA come together?"
(Duh. Of course that's what he means. Has he ever seen you play this stupid before?!? Repeating the obvious?! Could I possibly make this more awkward? )

Eli: "Yeah."

Me: "Well, the man has what's called sperm, and the woman has what's called an egg, and those each carry the DNA."
(Jason walks through with the laundry at this point. I look desperately at him, but while he notices me, he just smiles, and keeps on towards the bedroom to fold clothes.)

Eli: "Yes, but HOW do they get together!?"
(He's now speaking in a voice that tells me he's on to my stalling technique.)

I get up and move from where I'm sitting to sit beside him. "Are you asking me where babies come from?"

Eli: "Yes."

I look around to make sure Julia's not in earshot and then look back at him.
He leans in, knowing this is serious, and whispers, "Is it the kiss?".
It's with the exact same voice that he used when he told me he figured it out - it was just the reindeer part of Santa Clause that wasn't true....

I smile, contemplate saying yes, and then realize that will only create trouble.
Me: "No. It's something that comes after the kiss."

I look him squarely in the eye, preparing to tell him what I have not figured out how to tell him yet. What he seems too young to know, yet what I know the world will irresponsibly and self-centeredly share in ungodly fashion regardless with no regard to his age, or to his God.

Eli leans in, his eyes wide. "Is it bad?"

Me:(jumping to a response as I realize my pausing and contemplating could have the same effect as the rest of the world telling him...) "Oh no, no! It's a gift! It's just that, when I tell you this, I want you to realize that it's something serious. It's important to God, and so it won't be something we joke about or talk about with others. Many parents haven't talked to their kids about what you and I are about to talk about, and they need to have this conversation with their parents, not you or other kids, okay?

Eli: "Well, if other parents haven't told their kids, then why don't we just wait till I'm nine?." Then he laughs, awkwardly, looking at me realizing he just turned nine. "I mean, 10.," he says.

Me: "You want to wait till you're 10? Great. Done! When you're 10, we'll talk about it. Great idea."

We both smile, a bit relieved. I can't believe I'm such a lame parent. But, I've got another year, or so I think. I'll do better the second time, surely.

The next day, Jason is tucking Eli into bed. "I heard what you and Momma began to talk about yesterday. Did you understand all that Momma said?"

Eli emphatically replies: "Not a WORD of it!"

Jason then does a masterfully simple job of sharing God's design for life and marriage. And correcting some 2nd grade misinformation.

Follow up

Okay - It's VBS week - and I haven't had time to post, but YES, I have time to floss. As for a follow up on the Dentist appointment, let's just say it wasn't just my dentist watching the blog... when I arrived at my appointment, Susan, (the self-proclaimed "Floss Nazi") responsibly did her job, - I left well educated, well motivated, and flossing regularly. :-)

And thanks to Cindy, who sent me (from her family vacation in WI) a package of fruit flavored flossers, and smiley toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as a step by step instruction sheet (with pictures) and a chart to follow my progress. This is why my friend is a special ed teacher. And she's good - I'm using them!

Everyone should be so lucky to have good friends who truly care about the longevity of their teeth!

I'm flossing. I'M FLOSSING!!!

(Can I make up for 6 months in 3 days?)

"Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have." 1 Peter 1:15

This verse kept coming to mind this morning. (As I brushed my teeth diligently!)

I tend to guess that most people think that what will speak to others around them about their faith in Christ is their morality. And while I think the way we choose to live certainly does speak to what we value most, God tells us here that it's our hope that will cause people to look at us and wonder what's different about us. It's our hope that will open an otherwise closed door to talk about Christ.

So I have to ask myself, "How is my hope speaking to the world around me?

Do I look so different because of my hope that people ask a question about it?

Or do I blend in with the rest of the world with it's complaining, hopelessness and cynicism and because of it actually camouflage the effect Jesus has had on my reality?

I'm glad His Spirit brought it to mind. He disciplines those He loves...

Look! A post!

I've been drinking so much sweet tea, I can't eat food of any temperature or even breathe without pain in my teeth. Do you think that's a problem?
Worse- I have a dentist appointment Monday.
Even worse - my dentist is my friend. And I haven't flossed except twice since the last time his hygenist told me floss daily. (I know everyone says to, but she MEANS it.)
On top of that, I can't lie about what I've been doing.
AND, my kids will be in the room when I have to admit it.
Not gonna be good...

In other heartwarming news...
My kids got in trouble tonight. In adult terms... Julia started it, Eli kept it going, so they both got in trouble. What was fascinating was that after a series of apologies and make ups, Eli sweetly invited Julia to sleep with him, and even got an Elmo CD for her to listen too. As they crawled into bed together, I told him I was proud of him. He said "Why? She's my sister!"

Then he turned to her and said:
"Julia, I'm your brother. I will always be here for you and will protect you. And when I get a little grumpy, just remember tonight and give mercy to me."

I told him I'd always wanted to hear something like that growing up, and that I thought that was pretty cool.

Birthdays....

I was sitting outside on our swing, enjoying the air and sun and reflecting on the day. Julia came out and asked if she could join me.
"Sure!" , I said, "but I really don't want to talk right now. I just want to enjoy the moment quietly, if that's okay."
"Yeah," she said, "I just want to be quiet too."....." So how was your day?"
I laughed out loud and rolled my eyes at her. She began to laugh and said " Just kidding!!"
Ever her daddy's girl. And witty, already.


It's my birthday, today. It was a normal, plain day. But I think it was absolutely one of the best birthdays I've ever had in my life.

I was allowed to sleep in.
My husband made and brought me French toast in bed.
When I got out of bed, I got a call from a dear friend and her children singing 'Happy Birthday' to me on the way to school.
I got an email card from a friend first thing this morning that cracked me up.
I went to work and got a card from my co-workers who said just some genuinely nice things.
I got a call at work from another dear family of precious friends singing 'Happy Birthday' to me.
I found a gift from a friend under my desk at my feet.
I got an email from my mom that meant the world to me. And a call. And a visit tonight.
I got a call from my kids singing "Happy Birthday" to me.
I went home and found some wonderful, meaningful cards from my father-in-law, my aunt & uncle, my friend, and my birth mother.
I found a wallet from Africa that my son spent his last dollar on for me. ( With an apparent price reduction from the precious couple selling them,) and even more meaningful since he was saying just yesterday he didn't have much money.)
I found a collection of hearts, signed by my all kids' classmates and teachers. And 2 notes from Eli, one painfully written in cursive, which he hates, but knew I would be proud of.
I found a beautiful bouquet of flowers on the porch, from my birth sister, who I've never even gotten to meet yet.
My son just came in the back door and as he ran past me, slapped my shoulder and called out over his, "I love you, Mom".
And the day's not even over.

I write this for no one in particular. This is just the place I spill out my heart, and it's overflowing right now with feelings of being the richest person in the world. I can remember a short-sighted time when I thought that the best birthdays included the most memorable gifts. I never imagined that one day the simplest moves would completely overshadow such gifts and so completely fill my heart.

Thanks. :-) If my life is marked & measured by the quality of people I'm surrounded by, it's indeed worth celebrating well.