happy thursday

I have a lot of things on my mind today. Are you ready? This one is L-O-N-G, but I just have so much I want to share...and I even censored myself!

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. - 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

AND

E'en for the dead I will not bind my soul to grief;
Death cannot long divide;
For is it not as though the rose that climbed my garden wall
Has blossomed on the other side?
Death does hide,
But not divide.
You are but on Christ's other side!
You are with Christ,
And Christ with me.
In Christ united still are we.

God is reminding me just how far I have come since Blake's death. Though we are entering a season of difficulty for me (refresher: Anniversary Dec. 22/Christmas/Blake's death Jan. 1), God has been so faithful...and is allowing me to reach out to others experiencing grief in its freshest, most bewildering forms. As you may see from previous posts, I still have my share of tears, but they are broken up by long, pleasant expanses of life. Not life under the veil of mourning, but life abundantly.

I will always miss Blake. I will probably not praise God that my husband died so young...but I will never live as though I died with him. God promised me abundance, and I enjoy that now, while looking forward to the day when my abundance might expand to include a man who loves me and my son without being threatened by my past. It's a tall order...good thing I have a God who provides, and faithfully so!

I am encouraged by the state of my heart. Not four weeks ago, I was wrestling with anger and bitterness over my circumstances. Though God had done nothing wrong, I was holding unforgiveness against Him in my heart, and it was poisoning my relationship with the Lord and everything else I touched: Blake was rebellious and willfully unkind; I was unhappy and self-righteous. Though I still laughed, laughing bitterly is not really laughing.

Now: God set me free! My prayers (and yours) are being answered. My heart is light, and I am right before God - as my discipler noted, it is as though a wall has been torn down in my heart. All the things that I had found so draining, sapping my very will, have become easy. My child has responded well to the changes I've made for both of us, and we are having so much fun together! Others are noticing how pleasant lil' B is, which makes my heart soar. God has been good to me, and I am the richest of women.

--But--

I sometimes feel like my world is very, very small. I am pretty much always home by 8:00, as it is the wee man's bed time. I don't do much socially if it doesn't involve friends coming to me, and I can rarely be truly spontaneous. We live and die by nap time (Blake's, not mine) and coffee (mine, not Blake's). My friend shared this excellent essay with me, that echoes one posted by Reese not long ago:

G.K. Chesterton:
To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labors, and holidays; to be Whitely within a certain area, providing toys, boots, cakes, and books; to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene; I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone and narrow to be everything to someone? No, a woman’s function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute.

--Observations--

• I have too many children's books memorized.
• Blake doesn't know the words to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
• He does know the chorus to Jolene.
• He will sing the his ABCs about 100 times in a row at a restaurant, expecting applause every single time. I did not teach him that. Did you teach him that?
• The quickest way to get him anywhere is grab his hand and say, "I'm so scared!" to which he replies, pretending to be out of breath, "Let's get out of here!" And then we run, and I really am out of breath.
• He is actually afraid of his Halloween costume and won't let me put it on him any more.
• He has changed so much in under three years. It's such a cliché, but all that crap about kids growing up too fast? They really do.

--Proof--

I'm brand new & still need to dry out.

I look just like my dad...maybe a little rounder.

Auntie Lane did my hair, & my nose is orange from all the squash I eat.

This seemed like a good idea at the time, but I'm not having fun any more.

Mom, I need a pair of boots. Grammie's will do just fine, thank you.

I know you're doing laundry, but all my kikis were just lying there, calling to me. I can take it from here.

Yeah!

Momma, all the stickers Grammie G sent have to go right here, not anywhere else, like another window, God forbid. How could you even suggest it?

Um, this was ok at first, but I want out. I am a much better tiger when unencumbered.

And, to throw you a bone, I finally found one of me (there aren't many when you are the one holding the camera, and I'm no good at self-portraits). This is in Madrid, with Kellie, who is becoming semi-famous. We are enjoying churros con chocolate and cafe con creme. It wasn't very good, so I ate all of Kellie's share.