onbruisedknees

"Tell your story. Tell it on your bruised knees if you must, tell it at the risk of madness, scream it at the top of your lungs." –Andrew Lam

Category: birthdays

a warm twenty-sixth

This week I’ve been cold. Cold like an ache. Colder than normal.  That shiver-shake panicked cold I get when I’m still not warm and I’ve already tried toasting myself in a tanning bed and scalding myself in the bathtub and piling three blankets (one like a shawl, one wrapped around my legs like a cocoon, one draped around the other two). Cold. A cold that’s more than psychological but more than physical. A heart-chill. Soul-frost. Hell is fire? I think it’s a spirit, iced.

I almost didn’t meet my favorite sisterhood friends tonight because of my particularly uncomfortable cold scared sad day. Because goodbyes are hard. Goodbyes make me colder.

But.

They kindled me, warmed me up, and thawed me back to life.  

I’m warm-content and happy now. I slipped on the gift of the softest sweater that wraps me in the comfort of friendship-grace. Warm like a birthday candle glow. My belly full of decadent cupcakes and coffee sipped from big white mugs. My quota of hug-like-you-mean-it hugs met, finally.    

We took a grand tour of a sisterfriend’s house—a home her family’s labored and mostly built themselves. A long process. Like this frustrating, gratifying life. They’re still building the fireplace in this home. The place where family will sit and warm toes and watch flames flicker-glow. So they’re fitting giant stones together to hold up other stones. And bonding them all tightly, securely. Like a group hug. Where I just lean. Because I think I might fall down.

ButI don’t. Because even with strained arms, we’re a sturdy bunch. Like rustic wooden beams. Like the pillars of the porch. Like the rocks making up the hearth that gives the warmth. The warmth.  

I’m twenty-six now. They’ve built me. They build me.

"Where? Down in my heart!" 237- 255

237. all-ages whiffle ball game
238. eating a hot dog under a white tent
239.  bluegrass on the porch
240. policeman visits (my policeman)
241. swimming invitations
242. fruit
243.  the clarity of knowing at least who I am not and what I am not supposed to do. and the hopeful waiting that who I am and what I am supposed to do will be revealed
244. sunglasses at night
245. sweet introductions
246. Sunday journal buddies
247. new Sunday school material
248. standing in my kitchen flipping pancakes
249. forgetting the world now and then
250. wild blue Wisconsin flowers by the roadside
251. cards and crafts from our favorite six-year-old
252. love reminders
253. the love that wilt not let me go
254. new friends who thoughtfully ask me to come along for the ride
255. slow steady rain 

106-140

106. kid drawings–that creative determination, the grip on pencil, the furrowed brow.
107. little kid malapropisms. ❤
108. jazz. it stirs my soul. i must move. must dance or i will burst
109. falling asleep on the living room floor. a lover’s fort, a camp out of sorts.
110. transparency of beautiful people sharing with me (thank you so much for showing your hearts on the la family page. next article should come out saturday).
111. the way he pauses often to check on me in life. to sweetly caress. to let the truth of his words fill me and sink in.
112. four-year-old birthday parties and Rapunzel ice cream cake. especially when adorable four-year-old wears adorable cupcake headpiece sporting four candles. count them: one, two, three, four.
113. great neighbors who are “the more the merrier” types. kind. welcoming. generous. sweet and genuine “all are welcome” vibe.
114. church.
115. treats. random hubby lunch date. a chocolate shake.
116. making up for so much lost time.
117. our mutual joy and admiration for kids.
118. noticing talent and making people feel good about it, feel possibilities.
119. the way he makes the perfect pot of coffee.
120. he always shares with me.
121. strengthening and establishing my heart while waiting. the work that happens in the waiting. the healing. the finding. the becoming.
122. casting anxieties upon Him. He accomplishes all things for me.
123. bonds. soul-sister bonds. ❤
124. blanket in a patch of sunlight, Bloom by Kelle Hampton, banana boat
125. limes. and lemons.
126. this: Job 42:12 “and the Lord blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning.”
127. pink cheeks from sun
128. “will you come play with us?”
129. trampoline in the rain, tennis, softball
130. puppies
131. the way it feels to deep clean a kitchen. and to deeply pray. and deeply play.
132. crock pot aromas (and easy dinners!)
133. the chance to be a more-present wife for a time. even sometimes rejoicing in errands and chores.
134. lipo-flavonoid plus (a vitamin supplement that is amazingly helping my meniere’s. majorly. i feel better than i have in ten years.
135. watching josh attempt to train jovie.
136. blooming peonies.
137. blooming where i’m planted.
138. stretches and full body breaths. on top of a hill. with view of nineteen beautiful horses. and sky. that perfect-shade-of-bright-blue sky.
139. my memorial loves are graduating. i’m still remembering. still cherishing. still such a proud mama.
140.  bare.feet. ❤