My mom's birthday is coming up. A day that used to inspire joy now comes barreling at me, a reminder that she was too young to go. The idea of milestone birthdays and anniversaries rings more shallow to me now. Don't wait to celebrate. Don't put off a party or a celebration or a vacation together because it's not "a big one". My mom didn't make it to her 60th. This year she would be 63 and I wish I could throw her the biggest damn party she'd ever seen. Or surprise her with tickets to Broadway. Don't push off celebrating. I've been sitting in grief today. I opened the pages of the second volume of Every Moment Holy: Death, Grief, and Hope, a gift from my grandmother. A gift for no occasion. Be like her - buy the gift and send it when you think of someone. Don't wait for a reason or an event. You speak love when you do this. Send the card, text the verse, leave a voicemail. The saved voicemails I have from my mom are...
Despising any kind of stereotype, I swore I would absolutely not be a casualty of the Christian college's "Ring by Spring" stereotype. Which meant I inevitably was. I met Zach during the first semester of our freshman year. Because I had made it my MO to say yes to everything, I ended up helping a friend with his student film - a musical based on Queen's Loverboy, something which Zach had literally been dragged to help with as well. After a final late night practice at the end of the semester, a group of us ended up at the beach where he and I talked for hours. I didn't see him again until 6 weeks later when the Spring semester started. My course-load was much heavier and I quit my friend's film project. Turns out Zach quit the same night I did and called a few days later asking me out. Our first date made an impression to say the least. He met me in the dorm lobby where, upon seeing me, he turned on his heel and said over his shoulder, "I'm park...
M and I are having one of those days. He's acting like a 1 year old and I want him to understand me like a 5 year old. Every time I turn around, something has been pulled off a shelf. Every time I try to do something like empty the dishwasher, M needs me with sudden clinginess. Instead of saying please, I constantly am reminding him not to whine. His room is covered in books, clothes that he's pulled out of his drawer, and diapers (thankfully clean!). I'm exhausted and ready to close my bedroom door and cry. But instead I bend to pick up the books and realize that his daily flip calendar is still on March. So I change it to today's date, and here was the verse: 1 Samuel 1:27 (NCV) "I prayed for this child, and the Lord answered my prayer and gave him to me." Then the tears came. I have been praying for this sweet little boy since before I knew him. It has always been my heart's desire to be a mother, and he has heard ...
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