Random

Well, I did it.

Barely.

And even though it SAYS Day 29, those of you who have been on this journey with me, know that I skipped a day mid way through the month so this Day 29 is actually only my 28th day of writing.

And I’m sort of cheating again because I didn’t get it in under the wire last night but we’re not going to focus on those tiny details.

This was a good month for me to write.

There were wins and losses.

Ups and downs.

And even two of us in the family having a violent stomach bug.

Fun times.

But this is how our months all go, right?

Little bit was just watching old videos of them when they were five. We were so cute, she exclaimed.

That was just five years ago, I thought with this sense of shock and sadness. Five years from now, they will be fifteen. FIFTEEN.

Like the saying goes, the days are long but the years are fast.

My how these years fly.

I remember standing in church next to my mom and being so embarrassed when she would raise her hands in worship or cry at a song or story. I’ll never do that, I thought confidently. I’m so much more restrained…

But me, who NEVER cried, cries all the time now. Cries with joy and cries with sadness. And me, who was always worried about what people think of me, cares less and less and raise my hands in worship even if it does embarrass my kids a little (or a lot). I’ll pray on my knees and pray right in the middle of the kids fighting if it’s the only way I know to respond.

Because I have seen how fast these years go. And how good God has been. How utterly faithful. Even when it’s hard. Maybe especially when it’s hard. It’s really hard to go through all that, to see Him right up close and personal, to know what He has carried you through (or around), and not raise your hands or fall to your knees.

I’ll be back here writing from time to time, of course. I can guarantee it won’t be as often. But this time, just me and my fingers on a keyboard, have helped to remind me how precious these people are in my life. Have reminded me, when we have lost some dear relationships even this month, that God is truly all we need.

Love to you all. May March bring springtime hope through the grey of winter.

We’re reading Harry Potter. That is, the boys and I. Little bit doesn’t seem to have taken much of an interest, though she’ll listen occasionally.

As I’ve written before, I wanted to screen the content and what better way to read it together. We started last summer and we’re just about to wrap up, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

A couple of nights ago, there is this scene between Dumbledore (the headmaster) and Harry about his eventual fight to the death that will have to occur with Voldemort (the super evil bad guy, if there’s anyone out there who is more behind than us on reading these books).

Harry’s fighting and fighting, basically taking this bleak outlook that he HAS to go into this fight-to-the-death match and what a horrible burden this is for a kid, against Dumbledore who is taking the position that he is CHOOSING to take Voldemort on. Because Harry knows how to love and Voldemort doesn’t and that is the most powerful thing. Harry has the choice to make, regardless of what others have said about this penultimate battle, and it is his choice to take on this most dangerous of challenges.

Something clicks.

He gets it.

He gets that it is his choice and he wants to take it because he wants to end the evil and avenge his parents death.

I realize this is a lot of Harry Potter in one post, but it’s all to get you to this quote which I’ve now sat with four 48 hours:

It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew – and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents – that there was all the difference in the world. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, JK Rowling.

What if, I changed my perspective on the challenge in front of me?

What if, instead of feeling sorry for myself for being dragged into the ring, I squared my shoulders and felt a surge of pride that I was chosen (or chose) to fight this most important battle?

Sit with that.

Or better yet, stand with that.

There is a reason it is you inside that ring.

There is a reason that only you can fight this particular battle.

So head up, warrior. Shoulders back. Let’s walk into the arena ready to take this on.

I am sick.

I woke up at 3 am and proceeded to lose every remaining ounce of fluid in my body over the next three hours. About every five minutes.

I don’t remember the last time I felt so steam-rollered.

So I took work calls from home on the sofa under a blanket shivering and trying to sip water.

I slept when I wasn’t working.

And now that the family is eating dinner, I’m going to bed.

I’m writing, but not much. More tomorrow.