I couldn't save you

Or you. Or you. I couldn't save any of you and I feel a hole in me where all my big sister superpowers used to be. I wanted you to stay oblivious. I wanted you to only remember the charm of life. I wanted you to always run to me and hug me tight and stay right there in my arms and always be my little brothers. Your eyes don't have the same twinkle. You've seen some of the ugliness of the world. And there's nothing I can do to erase it. I hate that. Even though it's inevitable, even though I knew one day this day would come, even though it's a part of life... I hate it. I love you, my three little brothers. So much more than any of you know. I wish you knew. 

Avery Grace turns 4!

Four years ago on this very day, October 14th, a sweet, little bundle of joy entered the world and came crashing right into the very center of my heart. I am so thankful that God's ways are bigger and so much greater than mine, because she has made everything brighter since the moment she opened those beautiful blue eyes. Truth be told, I didn't want a little sister. I was really upset, actually, at the mere idea of it. I was desperately clinging to what little emotional bond I still felt like I could share with my dad and I was so afraid that this would be the last thread finally snapping in half and completely disconnecting he and I forever. Little did I know that Avery Grace would become the thing holding us together. I am so sorry that I ever disliked the idea of you, sissy, because now I want you to know that my love for you is larger than my heart can even handle, it feels like. I look at you and my heart is filled to the brim with absolute sunshine, with pure sugar, with warmth and gladness and JOY. You light me up. You radiate beauty, innocence, and grace. Your life is a true story of God's grace. I love that about you and I can't wait to tell you that story one day. I pray every day that you will always, always  know how much I love you, no matter what. I feel like what little talent I have for the artistic use of language just completely disintegrates when I start to talk about you, because I am at a loss for words. Avery, you are fully and completely wonderful in every, single way, and God's favor is all over you. I could not be more proud to be your big sister. I cannot wait to see what God does through you and where he takes you. I love you so much. Happy 4th birthday, princess.

My love for you is like a force

It's 1:37 AM. I don't understand how the night runs away from me so quickly like that. I just finished a book called Love Letters to the Dead. It was the most painful thing I've ever read. It was also the most beautiful thing I've ever read. 

It reminded me that life is like that. Painful. And so, so beautiful. Sometimes I just don't get it. I want to stay here on earth forever. Why does that make me a bad person? Why is it so wrong that I have fallen in love with being alive? 

I love the way the soft, October breeze feels on my cheekbones. Like the air is kissing me. I love the way the sun looks when it's rising and when it's sinking, like there's nothing more brave than that light, coming and going exactly when it is supposed to, dutifully doing its job, silently yet so brilliantly. I want to be like the sun. I want to be a light. I want to be beautiful even when I'm fading. 

I feel misunderstood a lot of times, but somehow I don't really mind it. 

I often think that if people really knew what goes on in my head, these kinds of thoughts, they would think I am crazy. But I don't really care. I like being me even when I feel the weight of the world on my heart.

I love Brady because he simply accepts me for me. I don't think he always understands everything I say or write or even do. But that's not what matters. Because I know that he will love me with his whole heart even when he doesn't understand. And that, to me, is what it means to really love someone. You know them better than anyone else does, yet still you don't know them fully. You don't understand them fully because you can't. No one can. Yet you love them so much that you feel you could explode, even the parts of them you'll never understand. That's how Brady and I are. We love each other that way. I can feel it. 

My love for him is like a force. It's powerful. It's more than I could ever put into words. 

All I know is that October, the sun, and Brady are three reasons why I love being alive. 

late at night/makes no sense

Sometimes tears roll down my cheeks and I'm really not sure why. I feel like I'm crying for a million different people that I've never even met. Single mothers, lonely souls, wounded soldiers, dying hearts. Broken families, scared children, apathetic narcissists, drugged-out streetwalkers. Homeless men, gay couples, murderers, thieves, liars, and cheats. The lost. I can't explain it but sometimes I feel their pain beating in my own chest and my heart starts to ache and I wonder how in the world God can handle such responsibility. I know that only He can understand my tears for these people. But I want to do more than cry. Sometimes I just don't know how. So I go to sleep and I wake up and I drink some coffee and I thank God for that coffee and the bed I just rose from and the sunshine and the many, many other blessings He has bestowed upon me. And then I take a deep breath. And then I take another. And another. And another. And I keep doing that all day long. And in between those breaths, I try to show kindness, to give grace, to love without reserve. I just take it moment by moment. I don't try to be grand or spectacular or leave a huge legacy because there's only one legacy that matters and that is this: Jesus Christ, God's one and only son, shed His blood for you. And for me. For us all. So that we may experience true and unconditional love, so that we may be wrapped in the arms of transforming grace, so that we may live forever, worshipping our King. That is the only thing that matters. My name will one day be forgotten. My legacy, whatever it may be, will one day fade. But the kingdom of God will stand forever in victory. So I don't worry about leaving my mark. Because He's already left His. And it's the only thing that matters.

You make me excited about life.

I can picture waking up to you in the morning, the soft, sweet kiss you'll lay on my lips even when you're grumpy because you're still thoughtful even when you're grumpy. I can picture falling asleep in your arms and waking up with my long legs that you love so much tangled up in yours in the middle of the night. I can picture your arm splayed across my stomach and I can picture me grinning, heart so full that I feel it might burst, and then falling right back asleep with the feeling of complete and blissful content washing over me. I can picture cooking French toast for you on Saturday morning, because it's your favorite breakfast meal and it's your favorite day because it's the one day you always get to sleep in. I can picture you coming up behind me and slapping my butt or doing some other ridiculously silly thing that will make me laugh and I can picture turning around, standing on my tippy toes, circling my arms around your neck, and kissing you like I haven't kissed you in months when really it's only been a few hours. I always kiss you like that because I always feel like I'm kissing you for the first time. I still get excited just at the thought of another kiss. You make me excited about life because I can't believe I get to share it with you. 

I've never loved anyone the way I love you.

And I never will. 

Forever is a long time, but it won't be long enough. 

Here's to us. 

When the night becomes much too long, close your eyes and hear the angels sweetly singing. Hear the melodies of peace floating in and out of clouds and smell the sweet, sweet scent of heaven. You will stir no more.

When the darkness just seems too frightening, close your eyes and feel His hand wrap tightly around yours. Strong, sure hands, so smooth despite their scars. Scars that bare the greatest story ever told, the entire weight of the world undone. Scars that declare you free; hands that issue you safe in their grip. You will fret no more. 

When you forget that you are loved, close your eyes. Close your eyes and He will meet you there, softly whispering Your name, one He holds so close to his very own heart. You will ache no more. 

When the night seems much too long, remember that daylight always comes. When the darkness is just too frightening, remember that daylight always comes. When you forget that you are loved, remember that daylight always comes. 

Dawn. The break of day. Another promise, another hope, another picture of God's eternal gift. Sunlight creeps in, warmth dwells in you, love surges through you. 

You will long no more.

Sometimes I hate being so introspective

and other times I don't.

Now is one of those times that I don't hate it. At all. In fact, I'm indulging it. Although I might hate it tomorrow when I'm trying to keep my eyes open during my brother's high school graduation.

Life just has this way of making me really happy and really sad at the same time. Wanting to kiss the future and hold hands with the past at the same time. Longing for memories while on the edge of making more. I don't know how to explain what I feel, most of the time. All I know is that there is this heart inside of me, and it swells..... it swells and swells until I think it might explode. But it keeps beating. And swelling. With every dreamy sunset, every sweet rainfall, every laugh of a child, every song I sing, every kiss on my lips.... it swells. And I keep hanging on to this mystery of life, that I love with every fiber of my being. I keep hanging on.

Tonight, Brady said to me "I know you're worth it." 

And I will remember that, every day for the rest of my life. 

Love is

Love is a labor. It's sleeves rolled up, hands down in the dirt, scraped knees, sweat drenched t-shirt, weary head on pillow kind of labor. Love is an effort. It's an all-in, one hundred percent, never giving up and never backing down effort. Love is a sacrifice. It's a cross bearing your pride, a grave holding your vanity, a burial of self. It's many precious seeds planted, with careful watering, that bloom into even more beautiful flowers. Love is a journey with many different seasons. It's the bone-chilling, frost-ridden winter, when the darkness seems to last just a little longer than the light. But it never does. Light always comes. The sun always rises, with just enough warmth to get by. Love is that light— the dawn. It's the relief of springtime, the breath of fresh air, the hope of renewal and new life and sunlight's eager return. It's the heartbeat of summer, the crash of waves, the sweet and salty smell of earth and warm skin. It's the rosy cheeks and long nights and that feeling of being wholly and truly alive, with every fiber of your being on fire and alert and never wanting to let go of the brightness. And love is autumn. Fall leaves dancing onto sidewalks, leaving little reminders of all that the earth has endured that year, all that you, too, have endured. What once was in full bloom has now been shed to make room for more. Love is layers upon layers— hours, days, weeks, months, years— of commitment, endurance, loyalty, and trust. It's bonfires and marshmallows and reminiscing on all that summer brought to you, taught you, shaped you into; it's laughter, lots of laughter, and looking towards winter with a brave face and warm heart, hands clasped, ready for another season. Ready for another layer, another year, another cold winter, spring blossom, summer celebration, autumn lull. Love endures all seasons, all hardships, all things. Love is a risk. Love is an action. Love is a promise. 

Love is a gift that equally blesses both the giver and the receiver. Love says yes even when no is easier. Love says keep going when there's nothing you can see ahead. Love says "together, we can" while life feels out of control. Love turns selfish into selfless, hopeless into hopeful, and dust into life. It turns winter into spring, spring into summer, summer into fall. It turns labor into fruit, effort into reward, sacrifice into blessing. 

Love is the most beautiful paradox. It is both the most vulnerable you will ever be yet also the most known you will ever feel. It is the most difficult challenge you will ever face with the most breathtaking view you have ever seen or could ever dream of. It is meaning. It is purpose. Love is life.

And when you experience love, true love, you will believe in it. You will fight for it. You will labor endlessly, give all your heartfelt effort, sacrifice all you have. When you have felt the kiss of the Creator, you will be changed. And then when you fall in love, within the confines of humanity, you will taste heaven on earth. But because you've felt that kiss, love's one true kiss, you will know that's it's only a taste. And together, you will long for, live for, and invite others to join you for more. 

Love is life. 

He feels like home. Everything about him feels like home. Being in his arms makes me feel like a million Sunday afternoon naps, stretched out over the course of many years, curled up on a couch we picked out together and some sort of sports game on (way too loud) and him causing me to jolt awake every time a bad call is made and he jumps up as if to attack the referee. Being in the passenger seat beside him with my hand in his makes me feel like a million Saturday nights, stretched out over the course of many years, driving with the windows down on a breezy, calm, small town night after we've just eaten dinner together and laughed at the names of items on the menu and I tip although he paid the bill (like always, because he's a gentleman, but he also never carries cash). Being with him feels like being with the other part of me... the piece I wasn't missing but could never be the same without. And, finally, being with him feels like hands lifted high, bass drum beating loudly and consistently, matching my heartbeat, singing praises to the God of real love. God, our true love, who gave us each other, to love and to cherish, forever. 

Being with Brady feels like home. 

Sometime after April 7th, 2015

 I had dinner with my mom and one of my (three, not including step siblings) younger brothers, Joshua. Most people call him Josh but I refuse to call him that because I used to hear my mother rant about how his name was Joshua for a reason (likely the whole Jericho thing) and she hated 'Josh'. But now everyone calls him Josh–– even my mom. Everyone except me. I still like Joshua. It sounds strong and confident (also likely because of the whole Jericho thing). In all seriousness, though, Joshua was an incredibly cool character in the Bible. I'd name my kid after him too. My boyfriend, Brady, came to dinner with us too.

Of course the main topic was my father. He's always the main topic among any family discussions minus the ones that he starts. He would never talk about himself that much, mostly because he's too prideful to ever sound prideful.

I don't really have time right now to get into my father and all the complexities that come along with him, because yet again, I'm up past my "bedtime". I don't really have a bedtime, but I like to say that I do so that maybe one day I'll believe myself and actually get some freaking rest.

Just know that my dad hasn't talked to me since Christmas day, ending with a terrible goodbye. It didn't really start off that great either. It was very awkward and I felt totally out of place in the very home I grew up in. Thankfully, my boyfriend and his family turned Christmas around for me. They always seem to bring it back to center for me. I'm really, really thankful for that. I just wish my family could come around. Specifically my dad. Maybe he won't ever come around though, and maybe (more than likely), he's thinking the same thing about me. And maybe we'll just have to learn to love each other anyway.

If that can't make me tired, I don't know if anything can.

I'm really glad I got to have dinner with the three of them tonight. It made me smile. I think Brady was a little annoyed that the subject seemed to constantly revolve around my dad and his shortcomings, which I can't say I blame him for, but I'm still thankful he came and was by my side. I love that he is by my side.

Goodnight.

I should be going to sleep now. Or if I'm not going to go to sleep, even knowing that tomorrow I will, once again, totally loathe myself for not going to sleep at a decent and adult-like time, then I should be doing my schoolwork for this upcoming Chiropractic Assistant exam I'm going to have to take. Not that I really want to be a Chiropractic Assistant. Not that I don't want to be one... for now. 

Anyway, I really should be going to sleep now. I just wanted to create this blog before I let my emotionally unaware side (not that I have one of those, because I definitely don't) talk me out of creating this blog. I need this blog. It'll be good for me. I have too many thoughts and not enough time in the day to think them, which is exactly why I'm still awake right now. Case in point. 

So there, I made it. And this is my first post. Nothing fancy or eloquent, which is exactly how I intended it, because there's nothing fancy or eloquent about my thought process, and frankly, I don't think there's anything fancy or eloquent about anyone's thought process. Other than C.S. Lewis. And all those used in the making of the Bible. 

I really am going to sleep now. Goodnight, self? World? Whatever. Goodnight anyone and everyone who ever happens to read this, which could possibly be no one. Other than me.