I like you mom, because you're raw. You live your life with your feelings on the outside of yourself, no matter how ugly, pretty, sensible or harmful those feelings may be. You have harmed me. For years, I have mourned the woman that you are, and I am that same woman too. I am broken, I am upset at the past, I am flipping mother f-ers off left and right. But I love you so much that it hurts. I understand.
You are who you are, and YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Who you are has made me who I am. The OVERLY-emotional girl, who loves clothes and whose heart aches for those less fortunate (because we were less fortunate at one point). The girl who tells inappropriate racist jokes at "prim and proper" breakfasts' with "prim and proper" Christian girls who don't "get" me (that make me cry when I leave, saying to myself "to HELL with them! They don't get me") When all the while, I am BRAVE, and I am dignified because of YOU! You were the one who grew up with us. You were never the "mother", You were more than that. You never sheltered me from the world. I always saw it for how it was. I tasted it, I bit off a big chunk and decided that the world sucks. It's disgusting. You opened my eyes to reality. The reality that beneath the muck and Meyer of this rotting place, light and love still live. Even if I couldn't see it at first. I was woven from what you were made of, and I have to rejoice in that. Jesus was so real to me because of what I got to experience as a child, and without you, that wouldn't have made much sense.
It is the child in you that I love. It is the suffering that grew me the thick skin that I hate and love with the same intensity. I hate that we fought for so long when I was growing up. I hate that you had nothing. I hate that you probably cried yourself to sleep at night wanting to give me so much but couldn't. I hate that you had a fucked up childhood and I wish that I could fix it. I wish that I could go back and slap the ass holes who hurt you. But I have peace knowing that Jesus' blood is rich and it covers all of those dirty memories. I know that his love seeps into all of the hurt in your heart and He is BIG. His love seeps into my heart too. I am free now. These weights are falling off of me. I am praying that over you. My love for you is deep and wide and far. I can only say that because of Jesus living in me.
I am confident that all of the sin is lifted and we are COVERED. There is nothing that can't be healed. There is NOTHING that He cannot change. Even in the darkness, He shines! Jesus is responsible for resurrecting our families unity. Out of the darkness, depravity, and disappointments of life, He has changed us in a mighty way. We have witnessed something special (even if it hurts), there is a bond that cannot be separated.
I'm jazzed watching you as a grandma. (You rock by the way). I have prayed for you, I have shed many tears and I am rejoicing in the truth that God is good and he changes situations. He still is a God of miracles. I'm watching these two AMAZING people grow into these incredible lovers of the Lord and it breaks my heart (in a good way). I can't wait to celebrate with you for eternity.
You guys are such cute grandparents.
You guys are such cute grandparents.
Conrad feeding Grandpa a Cheeto.
I just LOVE who you are. I love that you are seeing the world with new eyes, and you're going at it with full force. You're not afraid. You are beating those addictions that once ruled your heart and mind. You are living for the Lord, even if you don't wear your "Sunday's best" and know all the right answers.
You own it, and you are victorious in Christ.
You don't have to be that girl with her legs crossed, raising her hand for the right answer, looking perfect all the time. And neither do I. We can be raw, we can get dirty and be who we are. It's all good. I don't have to be ashamed that I don't fit into any particular "mold". I don't have to impress anyone.
By the way, I love you Mom. (even if I hold you responsible for the fact that I FART in front of my husband and say really REALLY inappropriate racist jokes, and because of those two facts, I've ostracised myself from society all together and have NO friends......) But in all honesty, I was raised with a brother who thought that I WAS his brother, and so we farted on each others heads a lot, and my sisters held me down-tickling me until I wet myself (a lot). This happened repeatedly, and NOW I think it's OK to be a complete embarrassment to my husband.
Have a "passionate" day.
(You wouldn't get the "passionate day" part if you weren't my mother. She works for a sex toy company and writes "have a passionate day" At the bottom of ALL of her emails! A very "prestigious" sex toy company actually......it's not a big deal at all really. She does give really awesome stocking stuffers to my husband that make him red in the face and leave me laughing my ass off
You can love Jesus but still work for a sex toy company right?!)
My Dad & I posing for a photo.
Fathers Day picnic 2010.
I Love you Mom. Just thought you should know, I'm your biggest fan.