Love In Abundance.

As I sit on my bed and watch my little princess sleep, can one possible feel more love? As I sit on my bed and listen to Z play with toys in his bedroom, can one possible feel more love? As I think of the man who works tirelessly to keep our family financially going, can one feel more love?

All the above are little things that swell ones heart. But are they even close to understanding what love really is?

We see so much about hate if we only watch 10 minutes of the news. This group and that group. Murder, rape. Sex trafficking and pornography. We are bombarded by the things that twist our hearts and minds almost every time we turn around.

Trying to create a safe atmosphere for your innocent children to grow up in is increasingly hard. Just walking into a grocery store leaves a mother trying to keep eyes open in all directions. You never know who is watch, prying, planning.

Fear. That is the answer to many in these days. Fear. The thing that will stop your heart from opening up. Fear. Not the answer.

Love. The answer. Even if you have to start by focusing on the simple things, let love in. Love changes the way you see your... Husband. Child. Neighbor. Poor driver behind you. One of different beliefs or opinions. The outcast.

Love. Is it easy? By all means no! It takes work. It takes practice. But as I think of my husband and my children. Love. That's what I feel. That's where I start. 

Be Still. Be At Peace…. Say WHAT?!

Ok fellow mothers out there, how good are we at just sitting and watching everyone else do it all? Mhmm. That’s what I thought. Not really good. At least not most of us. It is ingrained in us to go and do. Take care of our little ones… take care of our homes… take care of our men…  Sadly, sometimes even in that order when our men should be first. 

Now, imagine buying your first home that needs a little tlc and you are 7 months pregnant. Not a pretty sight, huh. You have dreams, you have vision, you have plans………… and then you start spotting………. with a few small contractions. Knowing you over did it, you call the midwife who tells you “you’re done”.  Period. End of story. Sit on your butt and look at this diamond in the rough of a home you just purchased.  Don’t lift a finger while your amazing husband, who works form 1:30 in the morning till 3:00 in the afternoon, tries his hardest to get the home in a some what livable condition. 

Thankfully, an amazing group of people came in on a Saturday and did a ton of work for us. Enough work that I was able to finally bring home the kitchen table and have a place for my family to sit and eat dinner together. It was a beautiful night. I may have had a tear in my eye. I was blown away by the generosity of this group. All I had to do was feed them. And, of course, watch. It was stressful. I wanted to help. I wanted to get it done faster so they could be with their families too. But  I couldn’t. Just watch.

That amazing man, that I promised my tomorrows to, has worked tirelessly… or maybe in a half asleep state… to lay beautiful laminate flooring in our living room and through the hallway to cover the horrid floors the house once boosted. He graciously took the spray bottles of essential oils and vinegar that I made to help defeat the breath taking, headache inducing smells left behind. And then would crawl out of bed at 1 in the morning to go to work and provide for our family.  And I watched.

As he completes each little step of making this diamond our home, I congratulate him. I cheer him on. I tell him it’s ok to take a break. I try and cook him the best meals I can. But still, I watch. The tugging in my heart and the battle with my inner self to just watch, is great. But it’s starting to wane.

I’m learning to be at peace. To not be the one in control, doing it all. Yes, I see lines I would have stroked differently, patterns I would have laid differently, things I would have cleaned differently, but I let it go. I tell myself that this isn’t my forever home. It is the first step in my life with my husband and son and soon to be daughter. It is our start. It isn’t perfect, it is a diamond in the rough.

Joy Bubbling Forth.

Who would think a picture could make one so happy. But it does. A simple little picture of pinks and tans make this heart of mine reach it’s utmost of joyfulness.

When I was 15 years old I felt God said I would have a son named Zuriel and a daughter named Naomi Bliss.

I have my sweet, precious Zuriel. A strong name that means God my rock, in my darkest hours I would say his name but my heart heard “God my rock” and found the strength to carry on.

But, Naomi Bliss didn’t come. When I heard the name, I also heard “For she will be your delight and she will bring you joy”. I knew in my heart something hard would happen before my sweet Naomi would arrive. Of course, at the tender age of 15, I focused on the name and promise of my little girl and not on the thought of what lay ahead.

A month after I married my redneck, we found out we were expecting. In my heart I knew this was my Naomi Bliss. 15 years after the promise was made, I knew she was growing within. I knew that I had walked through an earthen hell and life couldn’t get worse.

Sure enough, at the ultra sound they announced that Baby was a girl. Baby finally has her name. Naomi Bliss. My delight and Joy. Z is ecstatic to be a big brother. Redneck cried as he watched her move about on the screen. My heart swelled with joy, excitement, and the remembrance of the promise from 15 years ago.

A faithful God. A loving God. And a hope I have held on to for half of my life. When I look at this picture, that I sent to my dearest of friends, joy bubbles from within. 

Knowing Sorrow.

Sometimes the thought of how fast life has gone is overwhelming. A year ago I would have laughed at you if you said I would meet a man I love, be married, pregnant, buying a house. A year ago my heart was broken. It was trying to desperately mend.

I have known so much joy in the last six months. I've finally got that second chance in life... the one I hoped for. Prayed for. I've learned what it is to be loved and to love in return. I've married a man I look forward seeing in the morning and at the end of the day. I have an amazing son and a little one on the way. I am purchasing a home. A place to make my family comfortable. My own land to grow a garden to feed my family. Land to raise animals to add to the health my family will eat.

Yet sorrow abides. Finding out we were pregnant a month after we got married brought about joy and sorrow. My family felt we rushed. I was told my pregnancy was inconvenient. My joy was shadowed in hurt and sorrow.

I watched as my younger brother and his wife announced their expectancy. We were all joyful for them. My family showered them with gifts of baby items, maternity clothing and our excitement of the life within.

Where was my family within my joy? Taught that family comes first, I was alone with my husband, son and sorrow. We celebrate the coming life, I hide the sorrow that tries to rob the joy.

Innocent. Not even knowing of light. Yet, sorrow is known. The harsh reality of this world is not hidden from even the unborn life I carry. A life that should know nothing but of security and safety within the womb of love.

One day the sorrow will end. One day the joy will come in a glorious morning that will never allow sorrow in again.

Raging War. Undefeated Hope.

The howling wind dances in the trees surrounding life in a bitter defeat. Sunken into the ground sits a man. Head bowed. Frozen air wraps around his shoulders as if to claim the life in a death grip. To be defeated. But with just as much grace as the dancing wind, man lifts his face to the stars. It is there in that moment the clattering branches can no longer be heard. For in the crisp sky the man feels something stir from deep within. A hope. No matter the force that rattles against his body, it's attempt to plow over, the man can no longer feel the war raging. For hope can not be defeated.

The thoughts that circle in this pretty head of mine at 3 in the morning!

Why Do We Choose to Regret?

Every now and then a random song will pop into my head. A person may trigger a thought that leads to a song. Or a word someone speaks could spark an outburst of musical talent. There is always a song in this head of mine.

Today’s song, of unwanted choice, happened to be Adel- Someone Like You. Now mind you, Adel is not someone I would listen to. I do, however, like the heart and passion she puts into her songs. She doesn’t demand an audience because she can, but rather because she has talent and passion in what she brings forth.

That said I couldn’t help but listen to the song and feel sorry for so many. Why do we let fear hold us back? How much of life do we miss out on when we step away from what is good. Yes, sometimes we hope to find something that is better. But other times it is simply because we are scared that it is too good for us or what if the situation changes. We lock ourselves up in this silent prison and wait until it’s to late and we are left saying "we hope to find someone like you". When we could have had it from the beginning of it all.

Sometimes, our lives get confused and wrapped up in the pleasing of others. Like, keeping a standard for your family name. By trying to appease others we give up on who we are. To surrender who we are is a guaranteed way to let a part of you die.

I would like to challenge you to let go of fear. Take that chance when the good is looking you in the eyes and try it out. Let joy be apart of your life instead of hesitation. Don’t miss out on the best and get stuck settling for seconds. Don’t let Adel’s song come up on the radio and cause you to feel like you are hearing someone talk about your life in similar words.

The Crazy Beauty.

The place of letting go and letting life be at peace. It’s a beautiful place to be.

As I had previously mentioned, I had given online dating a try, compliments of my mother and her handiwork. Well, one of those oh so sweet guys I had once met re-contacted with me back in August. He asked the what if… what if we worked… what if we lived closer to each other…. what if we weren’t headed in different directions. I assured him he was an amazing guy with lots of promise for the right girl. I was just not that girl. He asked if I was sure. I told him I was content being just as I was with my precious son.

That was the truth. I finally hit that place in life to being at peace with how life was panning out. I was content with it being just my son and myself. I was content not having nor searching for a man to fill the quiet void. In fact, life no longer felt lonely. I was happy.

That would be about when crazy kicked in. My dear friend, Alex, came in for the weekend and joined my mother at her computer with a bottle of wine. Next thing I knew they were laughing and giggling and enjoying themselves far too much. I went to check on them and saw they were on yet another dating site! For real?! They found a guy they thought was perfect for me. He was good looking. Had a nice write up. But, he was a redneck. Like totally a redneck. Raised truck, lots of camo, backwoods redneck.

I talked to him for a few days and we decided to meet for dinner. No. No, no, no, no, no! This guy doesn’t stand a chance. As we walked out to the trucks I planned on sending him on his way…. but, some how I agreed to a second date. Which he planed for two days later! I asked him all the heavy questions. He was suppose to run! He didn’t. We walked out to the trucks to say our good nights and he hugged me. It was different. It was warm. Protective. And felt safe. Something was different about this guy. Four days later we meet again. This time he took me to his back yard and we shot guns for a spell. The next day, he met my family. A week later I met his. Then he met my son and suddenly life was in a world wind. I felt like I knew this guy forever. There weren’t many topics we didn’t breach while talking. Talking was easy.

My son loved the man. My parents liked the man. The man broke down my walls. My protective barriers that I used to be sure no man would get too close… no man would hurt me… he tore them down as if they were made of tissue paper. He won my heart. He won my love. And I his. When he asked for my hand, my father didn’t hesitate. My mother was sure. My son giggled.

In this crazy thing we call life, beauty comes when we least expect it. Beauty comes when we learn to be happy and content with life. This crazy beautiful thing we call life. We call love. We call happiness.