Dear Daxton,
Well, your birthday was Thursday and so was Thanksgiving. Ha ha. So Mommy's a few days behind getting this written. Happy 8th birthday Mr. To be honest, I'm in slight denial. Despite the fact that the top of your head now measures mid-shoulder for me... I think I'll continue to say you are 7.
In my heart, I wish I could just bounce back and forth between years and seasons of your life. Every wiser mother warned me and I knew, "It just goes so fast." But I cannot stop it. And I don't want to stop you. Just freeze moments every now and again.
You are so amazing! Watching you become is... indescribable. You have my "gift" for speaking truth - and you mean no offense whatsoever! It makes me laugh to realize how my parents must have held their breath when I opened my mouth.
You have your dad's innovative mind: you're always building new contraptions or inventing an "easier" way to accomplish a task. I might just steal some of your ideas and write a book! I'll bank the profits for your college fund - though you're SURE you don't want to go.
Your brothers think you can do ANYthing! You don't even realize what a leader you are. :)
I try to imagine what you'll look like as you grow - who you will be. I hope you always have that light in your eyes - your try. You were born for greatness my love. I pray as you walk in the Spirit, you will continue to embrace it.
I'm excited to watch and see.
Love you so,
Mommy (for at least a couple more years hopefully ;)
Monday, November 28, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
The Best Surprises!!!
Dear, sweet Dezdin,
It was 5:45 a.m., three years ago today that you woke me up with a vengeance. Your daddy said, "Maybe we should call the hospital." I responded, "You may call them if you like. I will be in the car. It's time."
You have always been our sweet and sudden surprise. We were surprised to find out we would be having you, surprised by how quickly you arrived, surprised at how HUGE you were (10 lbs 11 ounces). Though, as much processed sugar and flour as mommy had been eating, I really should have been prepared.
For the last several weeks as I have talked to you about turning three, you have insisted, "I'm not three, I'm two," your sweet little voice ringing with persistence as you hold up your pointer and middle fingers.
I'm so excited to celebrate your life today - a gift we had not expected or dreamed of. A gift that has been a constant reminder of God's love for us. You are our quiet, gleaming star. A quiet twinkle in the eye of our life. Independent and content; present and full of shining life.
I hope today is full of surprises for your little heart. We love you more than you can fathom. You continue to be the best surprise!
With all my heart,
Mommy
P.S. Thank you, Jesus, for loving us enough to give us what we never would have known we needed. You are beautiful and we are overwhelmed!
It was 5:45 a.m., three years ago today that you woke me up with a vengeance. Your daddy said, "Maybe we should call the hospital." I responded, "You may call them if you like. I will be in the car. It's time."
You have always been our sweet and sudden surprise. We were surprised to find out we would be having you, surprised by how quickly you arrived, surprised at how HUGE you were (10 lbs 11 ounces). Though, as much processed sugar and flour as mommy had been eating, I really should have been prepared.
For the last several weeks as I have talked to you about turning three, you have insisted, "I'm not three, I'm two," your sweet little voice ringing with persistence as you hold up your pointer and middle fingers.
I'm so excited to celebrate your life today - a gift we had not expected or dreamed of. A gift that has been a constant reminder of God's love for us. You are our quiet, gleaming star. A quiet twinkle in the eye of our life. Independent and content; present and full of shining life.
I hope today is full of surprises for your little heart. We love you more than you can fathom. You continue to be the best surprise!
With all my heart,
Mommy
P.S. Thank you, Jesus, for loving us enough to give us what we never would have known we needed. You are beautiful and we are overwhelmed!
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
When the Path is Dim
Dear Love,
It seems to me, lately, that it's harder to find You. I know it is not that You're unavailable or silent. Your still, small voice rings unmistakably when I toil to stop and strain to hear.
I believe it is more that my eyes become misdirected. There is a line that weaves between walking in faith and resting in faith. Do I simply wait for You? What should I do while I wait? I dare not simply twiddle my thumbs vainly. Hope is dying. Love is fading. Hearts lose courage and trip over roots of bitterness on the path to surrender. There is too much at stake to simply lie in wait. And You say I must believe that You reward me when I earnestly seek You. So I know to be still truly means to be in a motion of another kind. Chasing Your peace, pursuing Your rest.
Oh, I love You. And there are moments - when I take away the lie of this world's sufficiency - and see clearly that there is nothing secure in this life. Houses burn; governments fail; currencies change; jobs end; relationships wane; life is but a vapor. In those seconds where I sit completely secure in the insecurity of it all, I feel Your heart most clearly. I understand the tears You shed. I see what You see, and Your love truly is better than life.
But there is much to be done - and sometimes the doing leaves You in the dim... when we step in our own understanding and your heartbeat fades. Amazing how one misstep leads to a completely errant path... So, I'm asking You... keep me near You... Whether I turn to the right or to the left let my ears hear Your voice behind me saying, "This is the way. Walk in it." Cause me to listen. Allow me to hear. Hold me closer.
I love you,
Tam
It seems to me, lately, that it's harder to find You. I know it is not that You're unavailable or silent. Your still, small voice rings unmistakably when I toil to stop and strain to hear.
I believe it is more that my eyes become misdirected. There is a line that weaves between walking in faith and resting in faith. Do I simply wait for You? What should I do while I wait? I dare not simply twiddle my thumbs vainly. Hope is dying. Love is fading. Hearts lose courage and trip over roots of bitterness on the path to surrender. There is too much at stake to simply lie in wait. And You say I must believe that You reward me when I earnestly seek You. So I know to be still truly means to be in a motion of another kind. Chasing Your peace, pursuing Your rest.
Oh, I love You. And there are moments - when I take away the lie of this world's sufficiency - and see clearly that there is nothing secure in this life. Houses burn; governments fail; currencies change; jobs end; relationships wane; life is but a vapor. In those seconds where I sit completely secure in the insecurity of it all, I feel Your heart most clearly. I understand the tears You shed. I see what You see, and Your love truly is better than life.
But there is much to be done - and sometimes the doing leaves You in the dim... when we step in our own understanding and your heartbeat fades. Amazing how one misstep leads to a completely errant path... So, I'm asking You... keep me near You... Whether I turn to the right or to the left let my ears hear Your voice behind me saying, "This is the way. Walk in it." Cause me to listen. Allow me to hear. Hold me closer.
I love you,
Tam
Monday, October 3, 2011
And Miles to go Before I Sleep...
Dear Dezdin,
Hi baby. Tonight, you did not want to go to bed. Ha ha!
It is so rare for you to fight us on that. Usually you're so happy in your little man bed, snuggled with puppy and shooing me out of the room. But tonight, you clung to my face and had to be returned to your pillow half a dozen times!
It was so sad I wanted to crawl right in with you - but I had tried that last night and you promptly told me, "Mommy you need to go that way to Daddy's bed." Ha ha ha... I don't even get my OWN bed; it's Daddy's bed!
You are such an independent little Mr. - so much in your own mind and occupied with your own pursuits - that when you want to be with us like that very little can keep me from giving you my full attention.
For instance, today, when you insisted that the picture on the "diamond" (dime) was Jesus and he was singing "Jesus Loves Me," then proceeded to sing the ENTIRE song for us so we would understand... your dad and I both completely stopped what we were working on because you so rarely engage us like that!
You are such a little miracle and a mystery all wrapped in a shaggy-haired, blue-eyed bow. Thanks for being a surprise, in every facet of your being, every day and on so many levels. You keep my eyes open and I can't wait for the next revealing secret! :)
Love beyond words,
Mommy
Hi baby. Tonight, you did not want to go to bed. Ha ha!
It is so rare for you to fight us on that. Usually you're so happy in your little man bed, snuggled with puppy and shooing me out of the room. But tonight, you clung to my face and had to be returned to your pillow half a dozen times!
It was so sad I wanted to crawl right in with you - but I had tried that last night and you promptly told me, "Mommy you need to go that way to Daddy's bed." Ha ha ha... I don't even get my OWN bed; it's Daddy's bed!
You are such an independent little Mr. - so much in your own mind and occupied with your own pursuits - that when you want to be with us like that very little can keep me from giving you my full attention.
For instance, today, when you insisted that the picture on the "diamond" (dime) was Jesus and he was singing "Jesus Loves Me," then proceeded to sing the ENTIRE song for us so we would understand... your dad and I both completely stopped what we were working on because you so rarely engage us like that!
You are such a little miracle and a mystery all wrapped in a shaggy-haired, blue-eyed bow. Thanks for being a surprise, in every facet of your being, every day and on so many levels. You keep my eyes open and I can't wait for the next revealing secret! :)
Love beyond words,
Mommy
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Jesus in the Sky
Dear Draes,
I have always had a few concerns for you. I have feared you will feel like you missed out because you were still a baby when your baby brother was born; I have feared you will feel lost in the shuffle of an older brother and a younger brother; I have feared you will not be certain of the love we so desperately feel for you.
They're untrue - all of them. Still, it is my heart that you know how amazing you are, how impressed we are with your character already, how I wish I could freeze time so I could spend hours learning to know you better and not having to deal with the mundane issues of life...
You've always had such a tender, generous heart. But lately we have been blown away by your heart for God. Your prayers are veritable sermons as you thank God for "Jesus in the sky," and say things like, "trust You wif awl ouw houwts." The passion you have is something ... well, maybe we have modeled it a little, but mostly I feel it - like your generosity - is something God has planted deep within your spirit. It is precious and amazing. It makes me want to share with you mysteries I'm unsure you could fully comprehend. Perhaps you would surprise me.
Thank you for being a daily reminder of the tender intimacy I desire to have with the Spirit. You're a unique, gifted young man. So proud to know you and get to "grow up" with you :).
Love you - so much more than you can know,
Mommy
Saturday, August 20, 2011
I Don't Do Windows...
Dear Daxton,
It was fun working with you today. And while the tedium of feather dusting the blinds and washing the windows is grand, we both thrive on doing things as a team. I love that we share that trait.
I could not be-LIEVE how disgusting those windows were. Who knew that three years of wind, weather and wayward foul could make such a mess! It is an unfortunate thing that smells are so tied to memory. The scent of windex soaked dirt may forever pollute my psyche.
But what a joy it was, when we had finished, to sit back, swallow gulps of almost frozen Mountain Dew and admire the beauty of our labor! The world outside was so lovely - its colors brightened and magnified behind the now-transparent glass - like vivid moving pictures hanging framed on our walls.
As with so many things - it reminded me of the spiritual. The world around us grows dim, my love, with "wars and rumors of wars." Governments and monies fail. People hurt other people and "because of the abounding wickedness the love of most [grows] cold."
It was fun working with you today. And while the tedium of feather dusting the blinds and washing the windows is grand, we both thrive on doing things as a team. I love that we share that trait.
I could not be-LIEVE how disgusting those windows were. Who knew that three years of wind, weather and wayward foul could make such a mess! It is an unfortunate thing that smells are so tied to memory. The scent of windex soaked dirt may forever pollute my psyche.
But what a joy it was, when we had finished, to sit back, swallow gulps of almost frozen Mountain Dew and admire the beauty of our labor! The world outside was so lovely - its colors brightened and magnified behind the now-transparent glass - like vivid moving pictures hanging framed on our walls.
As with so many things - it reminded me of the spiritual. The world around us grows dim, my love, with "wars and rumors of wars." Governments and monies fail. People hurt other people and "because of the abounding wickedness the love of most [grows] cold."
I pray you always tend to the windows of your soul, buddy. I pray you wipe them clean of the muck and dirt of bitterness and unforgiveness and fear. There are SO many things that can cloud your view of the world around you, but if you keep your heart and mind under the maintaining eye of the Spirit, He will help your vision to remain true.
Love you so much. Loved our time together - even if it was dirty work. Ha ha. You're an amazing kid.
With all my heart,
Mommy
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Love is in the Moments
They are my third calling, following closely behind my heart for Jesus and their daddy. It often feels like they are my first, consuming the most time, energy, and all of my cerebral contributions and productivity. . .
Yet, it is sometimes difficult to feel as though I've really enjoyed them. I LOVE being "Mommy." LOVE IT! In fact, they are growing up just slightly too fast and I'm still praying for one more . . . (Dusty and God are holding jury on that :). But I'm a romantic and slightly theatrical at heart, so I measure things in BOOMs and OOHs and AAAHs.
Plenty of BOOMs around here, but they're more often followed with OWWWWs and AAAGGGGGHHHs. Ha ha. I often question myself or my choices when I don't see magnanimous milestones on a daily basis. "We didn't make a scientific discovery today? What kind of mother am I?"
I've noticed I measure my first two callings that way too. There is a constant inner cry for "more time," "more growth" and "more intimacy." I'm finding, however, that those things happen less in the BOOM and more in the constant that follows.
Powerful moments of worship are amazing, but their solidity comes in the Holy Spirit's whispers thereafter as He reminds me He is by my side while I do really spiritual things like the dishes.
The intensity of being swept off my feet by my husband shows its true meaning in each passing day, as he works to pay the bills, fixes his car with his bare hands and pours his heart into the three walking, breathing proofs that our love exists.
And my boys? Truly? As exhilarating as it is when they recite what I've taught them or sit properly at the table (oh, wait, has that happened yet?) those moments are laced in the pure joy of Dezdin taking away a toy simply so he can "share" it again, Draes breaking his cracker into five pieces so he can give one to each family member and Daxton laughing himself to weeping as he purposely misspells words. Yes, I know, it makes no sense to you. Your moments are, no doubt, different. That is why you must reach out and grab them; cherish them as they pass.
I am finding love does come in the BOOMs and OOHs and AAHs. But love stays in the moments. The moments make love true.
Jesus, thank you. As the author of love, you must simply itch that we have not even begun to scratch the surface. And yet, you remain, teaching and nurturing, challenging and calling us to your life, your cross, your heart. Teach us to grab each moment you have gifted us. Thank you for the gift of love. Help us to worship its creator each time it touches our hearts.
Yet, it is sometimes difficult to feel as though I've really enjoyed them. I LOVE being "Mommy." LOVE IT! In fact, they are growing up just slightly too fast and I'm still praying for one more . . . (Dusty and God are holding jury on that :). But I'm a romantic and slightly theatrical at heart, so I measure things in BOOMs and OOHs and AAAHs.
Plenty of BOOMs around here, but they're more often followed with OWWWWs and AAAGGGGGHHHs. Ha ha. I often question myself or my choices when I don't see magnanimous milestones on a daily basis. "We didn't make a scientific discovery today? What kind of mother am I?"
I've noticed I measure my first two callings that way too. There is a constant inner cry for "more time," "more growth" and "more intimacy." I'm finding, however, that those things happen less in the BOOM and more in the constant that follows.
Powerful moments of worship are amazing, but their solidity comes in the Holy Spirit's whispers thereafter as He reminds me He is by my side while I do really spiritual things like the dishes.
The intensity of being swept off my feet by my husband shows its true meaning in each passing day, as he works to pay the bills, fixes his car with his bare hands and pours his heart into the three walking, breathing proofs that our love exists.
And my boys? Truly? As exhilarating as it is when they recite what I've taught them or sit properly at the table (oh, wait, has that happened yet?) those moments are laced in the pure joy of Dezdin taking away a toy simply so he can "share" it again, Draes breaking his cracker into five pieces so he can give one to each family member and Daxton laughing himself to weeping as he purposely misspells words. Yes, I know, it makes no sense to you. Your moments are, no doubt, different. That is why you must reach out and grab them; cherish them as they pass.
I am finding love does come in the BOOMs and OOHs and AAHs. But love stays in the moments. The moments make love true.
Jesus, thank you. As the author of love, you must simply itch that we have not even begun to scratch the surface. And yet, you remain, teaching and nurturing, challenging and calling us to your life, your cross, your heart. Teach us to grab each moment you have gifted us. Thank you for the gift of love. Help us to worship its creator each time it touches our hearts.
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