Claire comes downstairs proud and pleased.
She has dressed herself in what she figures is her finest . I smile at her accomplishment, tell her she’s done a great job. She looks crazy but that’s part of what I love about this stage of development, the quirkiness that they don’t know yet to be self conscious about.
She is all Claire, all personality and I love her for it, for every bit of it.
Lately I’m struggling to keep my head above water. Physical recovery seems to drag on and drag out. Hormones run wild, dropping and surging like the ocean’s tides. I feel depleted in almost every way but one.
I am so loved. A husband who is my champion, who believes in me and roots for me and helps me and supports me. Two grown daughters who cry at their baby sister’s dedication, who laugh about the silliest things, who send me snapchats and tease me for having blood transfusion Alzheimer’s. One tall teenaged son who turned sixteen last week, who remembered childhood with me, who sings Emery songs with me. Two younger daughters who fill my days with wonder and frustration, two younger daughters whose love for each other literally makes my heart sing. One sweet, peaceful, gorgeous little baby who is a constant blessing. My sister who is my best friend and brother in law who is more like a brother, my nieces, my smiling nephew, my parents and in laws, my aunts and uncles and cousins, our Polly, all of my friends….I am so loved.
I have so much.
All of that love seeks to fill up my depleted heart and soul but only One can fully do that.
And as I smile at Claire’s fashion choices, I feel that One smiling over me. Singing over me. Saying that when I try to do my life myself, Claire’s outfit is kind of what my life looks like- backwards, mismatched, not quite right. But He still revels in who I am.
I feel like that’s a good place to start this morning. Face turned up to the Son as He sings.