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Sunday, May 7, 2017

Made of clay

No family is perfect. I grew up hearing how some families would break apart, brothers not speaking to brothers, families no longer celebrating holidays together, and cousins not growing up together. The older I get, the more I realize how we are each made of clay, and how easily we can be broken. 

We are none of us as tough as we think or may seem. It's easy to hurt someone else's feelings, or to feel offended. It just takes one mean sentence that can cut to the heart because it's family, and we know them well enough to know how.

I often think of my children and how they will be as they grow older. I try to teach them each good reasoning and sound judgement, love, fairness, and forgiveness. But each must chose their path, how they will conceive of being sister or brother to the other as adults, each with their own passion in life and perhaps their own family to raise. 

I've not just heard but witnessed love growing cold as I age. We are all challenged to keep each candle lit, and only we know how to do it. Because love, family, and friendships are  life's greatest gifts. And we have to carry each vessel with care.

Every day is Mother's Day!

How can something so small, so beautiful, be mine? My two-year-old is so full of life; to the brim as they come. With three older siblings, she's figured out what she wants, and how to get (ahem, demand) it. I don't know if anyone else on earth is as happy as she, because she is perfectly content with life just as it is.

I think God gives us children to open our eyes and catch a glimpse of the intangible beauty of life. The secrets of pure beauty, beauty as He creates it, that can only be felt or seen if we stop.  

Be still.

Be present.

To each passing moment.

We get to watch, to witness, as they absorb and process, discover and learn to express.

Each one of my kids has taught and continues to teach me something new. At this moment, I'm relishing in learning what unbridled joy looks like.

Happy Mother's Day.