The Scenes I’ll Remember Long From Now
I had a little bit of green hair, but it was just a clip-on to make sure I liked it, and I do. I took it to the beach, and I had to confess it to those girls. Ocean air makes me tell secrets. I said, “Oh, it’s not real, just a clippy.” And then at some point I think I put it in a book and lost it.
I told other secrets on this walk. When I made it back home, our community co-leader said, “you know that most people don’t get to do stuff like that, right? Go off and be with friends?” And I said, “I know I know. I don’t expect it to work out this way again. For such a time as this.”
I think I met them there to pick up some armor I’m going to be needing soon.
This photo makes me want to cry. It’s braggadocios to post a photo of oneself with Ann, and here I am doing it anyway because it may be one of my favorite things, like if I had a new photo of my siblings. We had smiled with our teeth in the wind until they were dry.
This is how the sun went down, not shy of glory.
Seth picked me up from my flight, and we drove straight to our community. Our babies walk inside our circle. We give them bites. When we pray, we put our hands on each other. We tell our stories. I have never had enough of these people, my real-life people.
With Isaac and Jude in school, I can now spend time with my youngest two boys. I took them to the park, and Titus ran around like crazy. Ian never stopped talking. He has no clue that anyone else would have anything to say, and also, he really doesn’t talk; he hollers everything that comes out of his mouth. This is my most recent giggle/struggle.
Titus may be back on the feeding tube soon, but I just can’t tell because of how slow this process of getting him to grow is. One day he’ll lose, and the next day he’ll gain. I keep saying, “maybe by tomorrow he’ll be better.” Keep praying.
Then I met up with some girls at the lake, and I have so much processing to do from that weekend. I was quiet in my bones there, didn’t fret about a single relationship. I felt loved and not sandpapered or the need to have more attention. I’m a girl. That makes the weekend miraculous.
Sarah Bessey wrote so beautifully about how we all jumped in the lake, and I’m saving my writing. I knew in the moment I would write it out, and I’m holding it burning in my chest for a bit. I love not telling about it from my eyes yet. Read Sarah’s gorgeous version here.
I know this month has been one of the most precious times of my entire life. I know I’ll tap back to these scenes again and again. I grew up down a dirt road. That may seem random to you that I would mention such a thing. But it’s not.
If you’ve made it down this far into the post, I want to tell you that some of you who read here are really really my friends. I know we would have the same sort of weekends together had we the chance to meet in real life. I don’t often get to respond to comments, and I’ve just now been able to sort out my wordpress profile to where it actually lets me write on other blogs, but I need you to hear me. Thank you for encouraging me.
Back at the kids and my upside-down house, I thought to myself yesterday that I can’t do it, how we mothers do. But you encourage me, and I guess I’m the sort that needs it. Just thank you.