Tomorrow is Mother’s Day and I’ve seen reference to it everywhere.  The world is reminding us that we need to celebrate!  Buy something.  Do something.  Go somewhere.

Did you know that my favorite Scripture is Romans 8:1?  I survive on that verse.

I tell you that because I fall into this trap of believing that in order to be a good mama, I need to do some things.  Lots of things.

Organize all of your schoolwork, make sure that you always have sharpened pencils, feed you healthy food – not processed, GMO food, make crafts with you, take you to see art – provide you with culture, laugh with you, cry with you, listen to you, teach you all that you need to know about being a young lady, teach you housekeeping things, encourage you to excel academically, get you the lessons you need – the music ones and the athletic ones, instill values into your heart, take you on vacations.

Oh sweet girls, the list in my brain goes on and on and on.  My brain churns and churns and is never satisfied with my performance.   Never.  Some nights I plop into bed and think to myself did I play enough?  did I ask all of the right questions?  was I too harsh about this or that?  was I too short?  did you get enough protein from your food today?  did I?  did I?

It is exhausting.  It always has been.  Until recently.

Until recently when I found the right question.  Why did it take me so long to find the right question?  All of that fretting and worrying about my failure and the right question made it all go away.  It’s gone!  The questions and the wondering.

This, my girls, is a gift!

The right question is this:  what does God expect from me as a mother?  Isn’t it glorious?  Freeing?

It’s lovely to do the craft and bake the cake together.  It is! And my heart adores it.  However………He doesn’t expect that from me.

He expects that I talk with you about Him -  as we walk along The way.  He expects that I plaster His goodness on my heart and talk always of His goodness and His grace and His mercy.  Talk about Him!!!

When I asked the right question I had to tell myself something that is very scary for me.  Strange, but true.  I had to tell myself that I’m doing it!  I AM DOING IT!  There is no perfect so I cannot say that I’m doing it perfectly.  He is part of this home, though.  He is part of my speech everyday.  He is in my problem solving.  He is in my advice giving.  He is in my decision making.  And I’m not quiet about that.  I tell you so!  I do!  I do!

So girls, when there is something in life nagging at you, remember two things.  1.  Romans 8:1 – it’s engraved on my heart – engrave it on yours.  It’s all because of Jesus.  Whatever it is………look at His name and know that you are not pronounced guilty!  and 2. Ask the correct question of yourself.  It makes all the difference.

Overwhelmed by how I love you,

mama

xoxox

Something I’ve known for quite a while struck me today.  It takes a lot to make you cry.  I’m not talking about sad things that make a girl cry.  I’m talking about physical injury.  When physically injured, you just don’t cry.  You both try so hard to hold back the tears.  Obviously, if it is something serious you’ll let out a few tears.  However, for the most part you are tough.

I’m not sure why that is.  I am sure of this, though – I think it is a good thing.  Oh, the drama I see sometimes from little cuts and scrapes.  Just today Livy was hit in the head with a ball at practice.  Her coach even said, “Liv, do you want to cry?  It’s ok to cry!”  Determined and in pain, you did not cry.  You kept playing.  You didn’t look for a way to get out of practice.  You hung in there.

And a few weeks ago, Mak had an ugly knee injury at the plate.  I heard a few wimpers (it looked really bad) but there was no sobbing.  There was a little ice on the knee that evening but there was never “Oh, I don’t think I can practice tomorrow”.

Why do I mention all of this?  I suppose just to say that I love that you are tough.  And I love that you are tender and that things that touch your heart will cause you to cry.  I love that you don’t want sympathy for an injury that really doesn’t need anything but an “ok, let’s move on” attitude.

I don’t know really what I’m trying to say, except – I love who you are.  I just do.  Oh, Lord, I really do.

XOXO

mama

Yesterday, while I was sitting at a matinee performance of the King and I, I turned around and quickly caught a glimpse of an audience member.  In a split second, I had  tears streaming down my cheeks.  The audience member I gazed on is the grandma of one of the actresses.  She was beaming from ear to ear. My brain really didn’t have the time to comprehend my feelings when I saw her – however my heart sent out a flood of tears.

In that microsecond I ached for you both so badly that my emotions were uncontrollable.  I sit here now, weeping as well.

Oh how I miss you both so.  I miss your gentleness.  I miss your soft, thin grandma skin.  I miss your smiles.  Mostly, though, I miss your loving on me.  I miss every little thing you did for me.  I miss letters and calls and ………… I just miss your darling selves.

Yesterday, I couldn’t help but think how you would love my girls.  How you would hug them gently if you were here.  How you would make them feel like the most special little girls in the entire world.  How they would adore you.  How.  A million hows.  That’s all.  Millions and millions of them.

I promise that I’m doing the best I can to be a good mama to give them all they need.  I can’t give them you, though.   And so they do suffer without even knowing.

I promise……..you would adore them and they would adore you.

Love,

dawn

Ingredients:

juice of 1 lemon

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 Tablespoons apple cider vinegar

1 teaspoon agave nectar

1 shallot, microplaned or finely minced

salt & pepper

1 orange, segmented

1 mango, chopped

1 avocado, chopped

6oz baby lettuce blend

1/4 cup sunflower seeds

Directions:

Combine lemon juice, extra virgin olive oil, apple cider vinegar, agave nectar, shallot and salt & pepper in a jar or bowl. Shake or whisk to combine. Toss orange segments, chopped mango and chopped avocado with the dressing. Divide lettuce between two plates, then top each plate with half the fruit mixture and half the sunflower seeds. Finish with pepper.

You are funny.  You are smart.  You are kind.  You are generous.  You love God.  You, my nephew, are unique and extraordinary.

I’ve loved being your aunt for the last 13 (almost 14) years.  I’ve loved watching you grow and you’ve made me so grateful to have you in my life.

I do have one complaint about you.  It’s kind of serious.  I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with you.

I love you.  Very much.

Love,

Aunt Dawn

Today Livy started another book.  She wrote the forward first.  How delightfully cute is that?

Before this last week I would have told you that I needed to get to the ocean regularly.  I felt desperate for it.  While I still do love it so, I realized something about it this time.  I don’t need it.  I have what I need right where I live.  Is that the most wonderful gift to receive while on vacation?  That realization?

I like to think that I’m a girl who likes humor.  A girl who can laugh with the best of ‘em.  So, the truth is that I stood there for a while running through every kind of scenario that would allow me to laugh at this title.

When I reached my destination, I looked into the book.  It’s written by a Duke law school graduate and tells about his drinking exploits.  It seems there is a movie being released soon, too.

I’m not here to talk about the author, though.  I’m here to talk about myself because I have a confession to make.

Sometimes I try too hard to laugh at jokes and sometimes I try too hard to conform to this world.  I’ve thought about it a lot since I saw the book 24 hours ago.  Why?  And what is the line I need to draw?

Why do I try to find a way to laugh?  It isn’t because I want you to like me.  It’s because I want to relate.  I do not want to bury my head in the sand and lose the ability to understand this world.

I love that I saw this book and learned more about it.  I love it because I know it’s my Lord moving my heart to a different place.  A place that I confess that the book made me entirely sad and I found no humor whatsoever in the title.  I only found grief.  The truth is that laughing at the rejection of Jesus brings deep sorrow.  The One, True God – the creator of all that is good -deeply loves the man who wrote this book……..the man who jokes about being in hell.  Our Lord created cherry blossoms, sandy beaches, mangos and the very finger tips that wrote the book mocking Him.  And after He created all that is beautiful,  He came to earth so that the author of this book could decide whether or not he wanted to reject the One who came for him.  The One who came for him was murdered in an effort to save him who mocks the Great Love.

And so how can I go along with this world that wants me to laugh at such mocking?  I’m here to say, I can’t.  Never would I have laughed at the title of this book.  However, I’m here to say that I’ve got something to say – something that isn’t funny.  If the author continues on his current path, he will go to hell.  And it won’t be funny.  Our Lord is so great and so good that He does allow laughter in these days at that which is not humorous.  He is so great and so good that He sometimes warns.  Do you hear the warning?

He is a great God, the most High God.  He loves deeply and allows each of us to decide whether to love Him or to reject Him.  Do not take such a decision lightly.