Gindi

I’ve been writing these for a while. 

I went back and read my old “first day” letters. 

I chuckled a little at my 2015 self writing your kindergarten letter. And yet the words are all still true:

My dear ones, I’ve known this day was coming for three months. Well, I suppose I’ve always known it would come. And yet, blink, in the quickest flash of a moment it is here. I am so proud of you on this special day. I had no idea, staring at each of your little faces in the NICU almost six years ago, who would you become and how immeasurably I would come to love you…”

Still true. The quickest flash of a moment. I’m so proud. And I’ve been staring at your beautiful faces for almost fifteen years now. It never gets old.

I still want the same things. “To learn more than the basics.” “To add in the things which are important…and subtract out the things which don’t really matter.” “I want you to passionately seek…Christ.”

The things I’ve always seen in you, are still there, plus so much more.

My amazing oldest, you are STILL “brave and competitive and persistent and passionate.” It makes you an extraordinary human who will surprise everyone with the impact you make.

My darling girl, you are STILL “methodical and curious and patient and creative.” It makes you uniquely able to scale the highest mountains and literally and figuratively run the race that God has set out for you.

And dearest baby, you are STILL “insightful and intellectual and strong.” It makes you deeply empathetic and able to lead with deep wisdom and confidence which will lead to you rising to the call that’s been on your life from the beginning.

I mentioned in the First Day of 6^th Grade letter that the older you get the fewer words of advice I have. In fact, I’m learning from you every day. Just this weekend, when I was hurt by someone and it could have led to you being hurt as well, yet, with grace, you handled it far better than I did. I mess up all the time and I’m grateful to have you three wonderful, witty, fascinating humans to make me a better mom and human.

What would I wish for you today? This year? In high school? 

Focus more on school than screens 😊 More on people than problems. More on Jesus than on everything that draws your eyes away from Him.

Pursue your passions. 

Study hard. Play hard. 

Grow friendships with people you can trust and who build you up and speak encouragement into your life.

And be that kind of friend to others. 

I promise I’m working hard to control less. Let you take the lead. Ensure you get to make the decisions.

I love you so very much. I feel overwhelmingly grateful this morning that I get to see you walk into high school. I know not everyone gets that honor. You are the very best of me and dad.

I believe in you. 

Know that I will always be here. Your biggest fan. Your Uber. Your calendar reminder. Your chef. Your embarrassing hugger and picture taker.

I love you more, 

Mom

Merry Christmas all!

Before I flip back through my phone to see all the richness and busyness of 2023, I thought I’d share what I’m learning these days.

Every year, the week of Thanksgiving, our family goes off to the Houston Garden Center to select a live tree for our living room. Some years it’s been cold, some have been warm. Some years kids have been sick and some we’ve been well. This year was a little earlier than most because the boys were going to be gone after Thanksgiving day and wouldn’t be here to help select and deliver the tree.

So on November 21st, right before leaving for the family farm for Thanksgiving, we all piled in the truck to pick out a tree. It wasn’t our finest day and we weren’t all getting along.

We rushed through the picking, anxious to get it “done,” and get back home to the list of things to do and with teenagers a little less in awe of the family Christmas outing than they used to be. Luckily, without much effort, we found a great tree. One we all liked and one that smelled good and still looked fresh. We motioned to the man there to help us carry it out and paid the bill.

As we checked out, a lovely young couple came up to pay for their tree too. It was gorgeous. Almost twice the size of ours. This was a tree that would look gorgeous in a vaulted ceiling living room with matching ornaments and a designer tree skirt. We don’t have any of that.

Our home is a one story with regular old ceilings that won’t accommodate an oversized tree. We place the tree next to a bookshelf, and in order to fit the star on top and fit it in the space, the tree can be a little over six feet and full but not a crazy fat or tall tree.

I was struck with jealousy. I thought we had this beautiful tree until I saw theirs. Then I felt pretty dissatisfied. I’ve never had a big foyer or vaulted ceilings or designer ornaments. Some of you have never cared about any of that but I’ll admit I’m an appearances person. (Ask my husband as I tried on six outfits for Christmas Eve service last night and didn’t like any of them… but I digress.)

Then I realized this same thing happens nearly every year. We pick a tree we all fall in love with, and then someone checks out with a bigger, fancier tree than ours. And every year, I feel a twinge. I don’t say anything to my family, I’m not going to be the selfish shallow mom, and I hope they don’t notice it.

This year, it really hit me. Maybe because I’m raising 8th graders and I see the absolute brutality of comparison. I’m watching how we’re all becoming a people of comparison. Theirs is nicer. I want that brand name because she/he has it. If only…

Ugh.

It’s not just middle school folks.

Maybe you’re immune. Good on you.

But I’ll confess, I am not.

And so this Christmas, as I reflect on the goodness and richness of our life, I think about what comparison robs us of. How on that crazy, chaotic Christmas night all those years ago, how easy it would have been for Mary to compare. Gosh, I wish I’d gotten that big wedding (which I would have if I hadn’t been pregnant). Man I wish I was like my friends and surrounded by my mom and friends when it came time to have a baby instead of in this strange town. Why can’t we be like those with more means and have a comfortable way to travel and a comfy inn with lots of warmth and food?

Thank heavens there was no Insta in the days of Caesar Augustus and his census decrees.

So in lieu of the traditional Christmas letter, I thought I’d just write a reminder, more to myself than anyone, about the the importance of seeing the goodness. We had an amazing Christmas dinner, delicious and too much, and that makes us wealthier than most people around the world. We opened presents in the comfort of our warm and safe home without fear of war or attack. The kids are in an extraordinary school learning lots of important things but also doing fun things like playing sports and celebrating friends birthdays when so many children aren’t doing any of that this year. Our family still has the members we had last Christmas when many families can’t sit down without mourning the empty chair.

We also had a lovely year. The kids have applied to high school. I was rescued from a cancer scare and received a promotion. We had a fantastic family summer trip to the Ozarks.

But tonight, I just keep looking at this tree. It’s really beautiful. And perfect for our house. For our family. I wouldn’t wish for another. Even though, sometimes, when looking at another, bigger, tree, I forget.

Dear S, L and W,

Happy 14^th birthday! I went back and looked over the years.

Like I always do.

I take this time to look back and who you were and who you are becoming.

I said this last year, and it’s still true today, “The older you get, the more I realize I don’t know. And the more I realize the window is closing with the time I have you here.” 

You are each extraordinary.

I know you don’t feel like it a lot of the time, in this season deep in the heart of middle school and insecurities. There are people who criticize your looks, your voice, your athleticism, your brains, and all sorts of other giftedness.

As hard as this will be, try to tune them out. Try to make all that negativity background noise. That is about them. Not about you. People who attack are struggling with their own insecurities. Try to recognize they’re in a hard season and move forward.

This is nearly impossible to do, I realize. For me, as a full grown adult, this is HARD to do.

But I want you to know this: You. Are. Extraordinary.

Of course, your response to this is “yeah, yeah, you have to say that, you’re our mom.”

But I don’t.

It’s like when you get a haircut I don’t like. I don’t say, I LOVE THAT HAIRCUT! I say, well it’ll grow.

You have each matured so much over this past year.

Darling phenomenal L – as sad as you can get on some days, you are becoming a remarkable woman. Yes, a woman. One who is wicked funny and knows herself. Someone different from her school friends, which sometimes can be hard, but which is such a gift. Don’t ever conform. You keep working your butt off at school and at sports but also give yourself some grace. Give yourself some rest. It can be hard being a perfectionist. I know. I’m a recovering one (lucky me, I’m super far from perfection now!).  Don’t worry if you haven’t found your spot yet. It can take years. You won the grit award in the spring and I can’t think of anything more fitting. You, my dear, look challenges in the eye and then you kick them in the face. (Sometimes literally.)  I adore you. I know we have had more conflict this year but that’s also part of your growing up.  And my love is unchanged. Plus you’ve got my admiration.

Tall, dark and amazing S – Wow have you stepped into your own skin. I have watched you lead this fall with amazement. You persevere despite setbacks on the field and off. You mentor other younger athletes and you have a huge group of buddies who you can work and play with. Each year has been a different season for you and I can see you bursting through this year with more focus (if that was possible), respect, drive, and intentionality. Sometimes it feels like you have a target on your back, but it’s only because you’re leading out front and it can be easy to take aim at you. Don’t let anyone, even me, stand in the way of your passion and your dreams. You have some big ones and if anyone could tackle them all, it’s you! I love you to the moon and back.

Wise winsome W – How far you’ve come and also how much you still are the same. I see how you’ve evolved over these middle school years and am blown away. From battling that frustration and temper, to growing through it and now being able to balance your deep emotions and caring with your expression of it. You are not just smart and handsome, you have an extraordinary work ethic. You always have. If things need to get done, you are the man to do it. You work tirelessly – at school, at home, at sports, and at the farm and ranch. You do it quietly and in a way that isn’t showy. While you have deep and powerful friendships, people are drawn to you not because of anything you do or say but because of who you are. How we can all be better by spending time with you. Don’t let the practical get in the way of your passions. I love you more, and always will.