And I Felt The Voice Of God Say.....

I.am.an.artist.
I am a good friend.
I am honest, mostly.

I have a lot to work on.
I am good at things.

I get knocked off of my high horse more regularly than I would prefer.
I am forced into humility.
I am lovable.
I have good hair.
I turn the TV off when Swiper comes on, or wizards come on, or witches come on, or trolls come on, OR goblins come on...... because Conrad's heart is as sensitive as mine. And Dora The Explorer should know better.

But I turn it off because I respect that his heart is sensitive.

He's right though. Trolls are sort of frightening.

I respond with urgency when friends have needs.
I am not good at math but I'm good at being spontaneous, except for now that we have kids.
Spontaneity is like a muscle that I'm forced to flex and make stronger or it could die.

Please God, help me never forget how necessary it is to "make out" with my husband late at night on that bench in that park where the elderly people sometimes walk their labradoodles.

They could possibly be suffering with cataract issues, so we justify being totally inappropriate.

Dignity is a precious commodity. Keep your dignity. Hold it dear.
     A thief is always in the wing ready to snatch it from your sweaty-tight grip.

My husband encourages my poetry and asks me to write. He tells me to go shoot not because it's an obligation but because it's what first made my eyes teary with love and captured my soul.

Elle is as stubborn as Dustin is....she's a thinker and will likely out-think me in her teenage years.
I'm terrified to live through that with her (god give me grace.)

I'm almost praying that she wears head gear and has a gimp-
 (no, I'm kidding.)

Sort of.

Our kids are already showing us how independent they are.
It's irritating and liberating at the same time.

Conrad says, "I'm peeing in my bed because I want to!"
And I say, "I know! STOP it! It's gross! I have to clean up your pee!!!"
And he says, "I know."

Deep breath.

     Didn't God get the memo when I prayed that our children would be perfect?

God is so rude. Ugh. 

I love my husband with my whole heart, all the time, EVEN if we fight in in the parking lot on our way to my birthday dinner and both end up skipping dinner and driving back home, having one of those talks where we both end up in tears. 

I love you, Dustin Franklin, even if, EVEN IF we fight like one of those ghetto couples on Maury Povich who get all loud and crazy as people walk by.......
Whatever.
This is normal and good. Fights are good.
It is like the refiners fire that burns off all impurities.
It hurts. It strikes you unexpected at times.
It makes you shiver in pain.
It makes you suffer.
It makes you wish you could die because that love hurts so bad you don't know any other option.
It changes you in a way that makes you new.

New.

We prayed last year for something NEW. Remember that?
This is new.
THIS.
Not everything imagined and prayed for is in conjunction with what is purposed
in the mind of God. It's ok if our prayers aren't what God had in mind.

BUT it is right and can be trusted.

 SO next time, lets not get all Maury Povich on every one OK? ;)

To love and fight for your love is good and should be admonished.
"For the first time is seven years I feel like I'm "WORKING" for our love."
               I said to a friend recently while on a late night walk.
                 
I have but a few friends who know me
the good
the bad
the ugly stench of my sin-soaked-heart

    They know me and still answer their phones and pray for my sorry ass when I am desperate.

You woman, YOU are like more than rubies or anything Anthropologie has to offer.
My heart is glad for your presence in my life.

I really love good food and good coffee, and that's OK.

I an confident that I have really great things to offer the world.

When my son asks me to come look at the really huge poop he made, I excitedly run to the bathroom and look at it like it is the most incredible thing that has ever happened-ever.
And then we go and I treat the whole family to Mr. D's Custard because pooping is a big deal.
We should enjoy delicious custard and celebrate your huge man-sized poop.

I love you Conrad Franklin. 

I let my darling daughter crawl into bed with me in the wee hours to snuggle and nurse and spoon me.
I used to think that parents who snuggled their babes in bed were miserable because they shared their bed, BUT! but- it's really precious when I wake up in the morning and my darlings are nose to nose.

But it's not so precious when her diaper leaks all over my down comforter and I'm charged $35 to dry clean it...... it's still kind of worth it though.

My own ignorance saddens me almost daily.

         For this, I am grateful for grace.

I am more like my mother than I would like to admit  and it scares me.
           Like, seriously. It scares the shit out of me.

I spend most days in my yoga pants and I don't cook dinner as often as my husband cooks dinner.

As I rocked my baby girl to bed tonight, I prayed, "Please Jesus, help her sleep through the night because I need some sleep and I need to work"......(among other things)

And I felt the voice of God sternly say, "Know me first. Know the name of Jesus first be before you ask me for things."
  Ouch.

OK, God. I will priories tomorrow......