Reclaiming Abundance: Wear Love (week 5!)

Doesn’t that just sound lovely? No pun intended… originally. Sometimes I surprise myself with my rapier wit. (Which makes me feel badly. I mean, some people out there are a few crayons short of a full box, while I’m like the Crayola 96-crayon box with built in sharpener… Sigh. We all have our crosses to bear…)

ANYWAY. This week (and by this week, I mean last week) I chose this verse in Colossians:

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it…  Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives.” Colossians 3:12-14, 16 (MSG)

It’s just as beautiful in the NIV too, which you can read here.  I love the idea of wearing love. Don’t you?

She's actually wearing a dress I'd pinned from Mod Cloth btw...
I’m pretty sure a flattering green dress with a vintage silhouette is an accurate depiction of Love… Right?

I confess, I’m quite an aesthetically driven person (if you didn’t pick up on that), which is no less true when deciding what to wear. And I probably spend way too much time on Pinterest adding beauteous, whimsical clothing to my Polyvore board. Half of those pins are probably from Mod Cloth. None of those pins, however, reside in my actual closet… which I made a board for too, for those days when I feel like I have “nothing” to wear, but mostly am just too lazy to be creative and put together an outfit.

Yup. I glued it to scrap book paper again... I think I thought we owned more frames than we really do...
Yup. I glued it to scrap book paper again… I think I thought we owned more frames than we really do…

(Actually, her dress is supposed to look like this one… which is from Mod Cloth of course.)

I admit- there are times when I gaze longingly through all of Mod Cloth’s dresses and purses (I call that one “Oh my plaid!”) and shoes, wishing they weren’t so overpriced, closely followed by wishing I could go shopping period… BUT. We are not in a phase of life that allows for that kind of thing. And it’s completely ok. Because I wonder if that’s the wrong sort of wardrobe. I mean, I’m not going to grow as a person by having more cute shoes (contrary to what my favorite magnet on our fridge might say…)

Indeed!
Indeed!

 I’m not going to powerfully encounter the joy of the Lord by purchasing a new purse. Don’t get me wrong; that’s not to say there’s anything wrong about cute shoes or a new purse. But where we are in life, my desire for real joy, abundance, and peace that really does surpass all understanding just won’t be attainable through a new wardrobe. That’s not the kind of abundance I’m after. Everything is permissible but not everything is beneficial, like Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 6:12. And whining (let’s call it what it is- I’m a big girl) about not being able to do or have something because of money is the broken part of me talking, not the redeemed part. (Incidentally, the broken part frequently sounds like whining…)

If God really is enough, and if his grace really is sufficient, shouldn’t my heart be satisfied in him? And if it’s not satisfied, is that a problem with me or with God? (And here, I’m going to answer this one for you.) Yup, it’s a problem with me! Well, maybe “a problem” isn’t quite the right way to say it. It’s more a question of going “further up and further in.” If God really is enough and I’m not satisfied in my life, then I must simply not know God deeply enough. The amazing thing is, that’s not a judgment thing. It’s a joy thing. To be hungry for God is- paradoxically- to be satisfied. Joyful. Thankful. To be hungry for the world is to- literally- live in want.

When Want has the run of the house, there is no joy to be found. When Want has control of my mind, my first instinct is usually to lash out at those I love- to speak in whining entitlement, to fling my sharp-edged broken pieces everywhere. Want tears things down. I guess I shouldn’t be shocked that a famine of the heart can be the destruction of a life.

So instead, maybe I could choose to live, to be, to wear love. Love is freeing! And when love goes first, it’s followed closely by grace (how I need it!), by humility, discipline, and everything else. Love brings dead things to life, like winter turning to spring. I guess Frozen had it right… (don’t watch this if you haven’t seen it!)

Ahh, Frozen. How my heart glows like a 5-year-old’s in delight at the sight of it…

The amazing thing is, our life in Christ isn’t just supposed to look beautiful, like a particularly well-coordinated ensemble. It is to be beautiful. To be full of beauty itself. Or Himself is maybe what I should say. (And beauty is kind of a big deal for me.) When we wear love, we see beautifully. I would really like to do that.

Along with my desire for cute clothes is my other utterly unquenched thirst for the perfect, swirly, Disney-princess hair... Is that too much to ask?
Along with my desire for cute clothes is my other utterly unquenched thirst for the perfect, swirly, Disney-princess hair… Is that too much to ask?

And I hope you don’t only hear “wear love” in the pretty-words-on-a-poster-at-Lifeway kind of way. I hope you hear it like I heard it- that I don’t have to wear my list of responsibilities, relationships, dreams, desires and all the ways I’ve painfully failed at ALL of them. I don’t have to be among the walking wounded. That’s not how my relationship with God (or anyone) is intended to be.

Love also has matching shoes...
Love also has matching shoes…

After all, the commandment in Deuteronomy 6:5 isn’t to know about the Lord your God, or try to be worthy of the Lord your God, or perpetually heap guilt on yourself because you’re so far below the Lord your God… It says LOVE the Lord your God. I hope you remember that. I know what it’s like to live under the weight of all those awful things I mentioned earlier- trying so hard to be organized enough, productive enough, pretty enough, healthy enough, thrifty enough, funny enough, mom enough, a good enough artist, tactful enough, smart enough, articulate enough, skinny enough… Yeah. It’s ridiculousness. It reminds me of that scene in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix:

A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Ron said, “One person can’t feel all that at once, they’d explode.”
“Just because you’ve got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn’t mean we all have,” said Hermione nastily, picking up her quill again. (OP21)

…said every woman of every man in the history of everything… Except me. Because my husband is perfect. *Dreamily looks off into the distance* Ok, ok, men- I’m kidding. Kind of. (I don’t know what I’m worried about- I’m pretty sure I don’t have any male readers…)

Aaaaaand we’re back. My point is this: You are not enough. And you weren’t made to be enough. HE is the only one who is. So maybe you and I can stop trying so hard. Maybe it’s ok if our scarf doesn’t match our bag. Maybe we can wear love. If I may say, it looks smashing on you, dahling!

She's actually wearing a dress I'd pinned from Mod Cloth btw...
Any prints of this sold within the next 48 hours will be going towards buying a Christmas present for our sponsor child. $15 each plus shipping.

Reclaiming Abundance: Dig Down Deep (week 4!)

Sometimes, I’m a hot mess. And it sort of creeps up on me. Do you know the feeling? Kind of like after you’ve cleaned the house so thoroughly it gleams in all its homey-loveliness as it should and you feel so wonderful and on top of your life? And you sip your coffee gazing proudly around at the lack of clutter, the lack of crumbs in crannies, or laundry on the floor. Then, when that coffee is finished, you put it in the sink. Maybe you rinse it, but it’s still there. In the sink. The First Dish. The one that begins the cycle again, until somehow, suddenly, you blink, and you can’t see the bottom of the sink, or the living room floor, and the chaos is yet again bursting forth from every corner of creation. You know that feeling? Except I’m not talking about when your house feels that way. I’m talking about when your soul feels that way.
 .
That’s what happened to me this week- or this month- or who can say when it started? Maybe when Eve bit into that piece of fruit awhile back? Regardless, the chaos bubbled over, and I began to sense it last Sunday at church, when- even as our pastor spoke about who “I AM” is– I heard the whispering inside my head- “You’re a hot mess.” I knew that voice wasn’t from God, and yet from then on throughout the week, my failings just began to rise up before me one by one, and pretty soon they hung my head low with the weight of them. “You’re a hot mess.” I nodded my head in agreement and cradled a hurting heart. Somewhere in my mind, I knew this wasn’t right. Jesus said his yoke is easy and his burden is light… So I must not be carrying the right burden, right? I’m not supposed to carry my shame around, or brandish it like a leper ringing a bell, crying out, “Unclean!” I know Jesus took all that from me on the cross, bore the shame and the punishment on my behalf, so that I could live freely, and dare I say- abundantly- in the love and holiness of God. I know that– intellectually. But I struggled to receive it.
 .
I was a hot mess- a head case, really. My head imagined God as begrudgingly tolerating my life, thinking He must resent me- even my good moments- because of all my broken ones. He gave up so much for me and I? I’m forgetful, prone to wander, sinful to his face. And when you realize that’s who you’ve been, that it’s your own fault your soul is lost and hungry, and how much you don’t deserve to be found or fed, it certainly is hard to hear any other word than unworthy. “You’re a hot mess,” the voice cries. When you fill up on failings, you’re empty. Starving for love.
 .
When the accuser accuses, he attacks by keeping track of every single grievance. Am I right? “Don’t you feel ridiculous trying to blog about your so-called ‘Reclaiming Abundance’ project, when you’re just a wayward drudge lost in exile?” he spat each time I thought about beginning my post for this week. After all, how disgusting- how unloveable is hypocrisy?
 .
And sometimes you need someone to be thinking about you… which God is always that someone. Ann Voskamp, who I must constantly be echoing (you’ll have to deal with it if you keep reading my posts), included this link in her blog this week, and this video that goes with it. I meant to read it when she posted it earlier this week, but just never got the chance until Friday. When I finally read it, I just Completely. Broke. Down. I mean, ugly crying over here.
 .
It felt like I’d torn a muscle- a love muscle- which I’m not even sure how it got that way to begin with, and now it has to heal. Now, I have to learn how to use it all over again- how do we keep doing that?? It amazes me how we constantly forget, and constantly have to remember again. How does God not shake His holy head in exasperation and smite us all??? Why does He instead extend grace? These glaring questions blinded me- I was sure God’s love had to be there somewhere, but I was grasping in the dark. And sometimes powerful words, even if they’re accompanied by bad synthesizer-y music, are the only thing powerful enough to break down your wretched walls and bind up your broken heart.
.
Sometimes you have to hunt hard for God’s love. And I needed more. How to get this skewed view of God’s love back on track? How to get back a whole heart? I clung to counting gifts like these:
 .
Little bunny ears.
Little bunny ears.
After my first full week working part time at the preschool, my boss surprised me with this fabulous card full of Word, love, and little signatures... and a Starbucks gift card. Seriously?! I am so blessed.
After my first full week working part time at the preschool, my boss surprised me with this fabulous card full of Word, love, and little signatures… and a Starbucks gift card. Seriously?! I am so blessed.
Two jewel-bright eyes? That little smile? Love lavished on me by God.
Two jewel-bright eyes? That little smile? Love lavished on me by God.
Who do I know that talks about God’s love? I youtubed Francis Chan, because if you write a book called Crazy Love, maybe you can remind me what it is. Thank you God! Because I found what I was searching for- and maybe you are searching, too? So, here is what I found first:
Oh my goodness, are you just bawling like I was??? Again, with the crying… But crying is good sometimes. Sometimes you need a good day of it. Along with copious amounts of coffee and chocolate.
 .
Leftover coffee made by Clive, put into a Starbucks to-go cup we have, plus Dove Dark chocolate, plus Jesus= therapy.
Leftover coffee made into iced coffee by Clive, put into a Starbucks to-go cup + Dove Dark chocolate + Jesus= therapy.
 .
And someone who loves you so much that they will remind you who you are (and who you are not), and more importantly, who I AM is. And because the first video was so good, I watched this one, too. A much needed feast for my heart.
.
And as I listened to the second one, one of my dearest friends walked with me through my hot mess (which even the fact that she sensed I needed someone is a God thing, by the way). Can you believe God cares about even the tiny moments- or big moments when we feel tiny? When we look at ourselves and see only broken, crying chaos bursting from every corner of our being? God CARES about that! To echo Francis Chan, are you kidding me?! I’m amazed, and looking back on this week, I saw how even though I was fighting for love- which I already had been given- there were countless moments when God broke through.
Saturday morning Starbucks date with Ryan and Lucy, thanks to that gift card from my dear employer at the preschool!
Saturday morning Starbucks date with Ryan and Lucy, thanks to that gift card from my dear employer at the preschool!
 .
In studying my Bible this week (and by studying my Bible, I mean awkwardly stumbling through a weighty glory that’s infinitely over my head) I read this passage in Luke 6:47-49
 .
“I will show you what he is like who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice. He is like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck the house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.” 
.
Did you catch that? The man who laid the foundation on rock dug down deep. Doesn’t it follow that we will have to dig down deep if we want a foundation that’s built on rock too? If we want to be firmly rooted in Jesus, in His love, His grace- if we want to let him redeem our brokenness? We can’t do that, you know. I mean- redeem our brokenness. Only He can. Because that’s who he is. Because I AM. So, of course I will fail in reclaiming abundance on my own. Because in so many ways, I can’t. I AM is the only One who can really reclaim abundance. What a relief! It’s not on me! His grace is sufficient. How prideful are we to clothe ourselves in our shame- to focus on who we are not- instead of who God is? Isn’t being that full of yourself a form of idolatry, really? Because it’s still being full of yourself to dwell only on your brokenness. That’s not your story or mine anymore. And I am so far from being articulate about this, but I just wanted to share my heart- such as it is- with you.
.
So, there’s no one drawing or anything this week. Just a bunch of blessings breaking through. Just a battle, a digging down deep. I opened my Bible to these two psalms on Monday last week, and kept going back to them; by the time I reread them this weekend, I was stunned by God.

Psalm 84

For the director of music. According to gittith. Of the Sons of Korah. A psalm.

How lovely is your dwelling place,
    Lord Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints,
    for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh cry out
    for the living God.
Even the sparrow has found a home,
    and the swallow a nest for herself,
    where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
    Lord Almighty, my King and my God.
Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
    they are ever praising you.[c]

Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
    whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baka,
    they make it a place of springs;
    the autumn rains also cover it with pools.[d]
They go from strength to strength,
    till each appears before God in Zion.

Hear my prayer, Lord God Almighty;
    listen to me, God of Jacob.
Look on our shield,[e] O God;
    look with favor on your anointed one.

10 Better is one day in your courts
    than a thousand elsewhere;
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
    than dwell in the tents of the wicked.
11 For the Lord God is a sun and shield;
    the Lord bestows favor and honor;
no good thing does he withhold
    from those whose walk is blameless.

12 Lord Almighty,
    blessed is the one who trusts in you.

Psalm 86

A prayer of David.

Hear me, Lord, and answer me,
    for I am poor and needy.
Guard my life, for I am faithful to you;
    save your servant who trusts in you.
You are my God; have mercy on me, Lord,
    for I call to you all day long.
Bring joy to your servant, Lord,
    for I put my trust in you.

You, Lord, are forgiving and good,
    abounding in love to all who call to you.
Hear my prayer, Lord;
    listen to my cry for mercy.
When I am in distress, I call to you,
    because you answer me.

Among the gods there is none like you, Lord;
    no deeds can compare with yours.
All the nations you have made
    will come and worship before you, Lord;
    they will bring glory to your name.
10 For you are great and do marvelous deeds;
    you alone are God.

11 Teach me your way, Lord,
    that I may rely on your faithfulness;
give me an undivided heart,
    that I may fear your name.
12 I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart;
    I will glorify your name forever.
13 For great is your love toward me;
    you have delivered me from the depths,
    from the realm of the dead.

14 Arrogant foes are attacking me, O God;
    ruthless people are trying to kill me—
    they have no regard for you.
15 But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God,
    slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.
16 Turn to me and have mercy on me;
    show your strength in behalf of your servant;
save me, because I serve you
    just as my mother did.
17 Give me a sign of your goodness,
    that my enemies may see it and be put to shame,
    for you, Lord, have helped me and comforted me.

“I call on you all day long… Bring joy to your servant,” and “My soul longs and even faints for the courts of the Lord,” best sum up what my soul echoed over and over this week. That’s why I was so stunned. God hears me! He hears you. I just hope we can hear Him- hear His great love roaring over the sound of the accuser and his puny lies. May they shrivel and die in the light of truth.
Keep digging deep, hunting His love, remembering what you’ve forgotten. Call on His name All. Day. Long. He’s God- I AM- compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness. Ask God to silence the accuser and to give you what you seek and keep asking. And may what you seek be His face, to dwell in the house of the Lord every day of your life.

Reclaiming Abundance: Clive the Coffee Pot (week 3!)

I love mornings. I really do. But a specific kind of morning- not the kind where you wake up groaning with the rest of creation, moving just slowly enough to put your entire schedule behind so that you’re rushing out the door barely feeling ready to face the day, spilling your coffee or contents of breakfast down your front, and probably snapping at all the people you love in the process.

Admittedly, this is more how I feel on mornings when Ryan tries to talk to me pre-coffee drinking.
Admittedly, this is more how I feel on mornings when Ryan tries to talk to me pre-coffee drinking.

 

I’m talking about the breathing deep mornings, when everything is quiet for a few minutes, save the percolating coffee maker- sigh!! is there a lovelier sound?- which seems to say, “Welcome to today, O Beautiful Queen of the House. Don’t worry- you don’t have to talk to me. You can just groggily pour yourself a glorious cup and watch the swirls of steam rise to the heavens.” Yes. My coffee maker is very articulate. (And obviously a bit of a kiss-up. I don’t know why- he already knows he’s my favorite appliance. Yes. It’s a he. And his name is Clive. Which I just decided. Just now… As in Clive Staples Lewis.) 

I digress…

Those mornings, when I get up early enough to have coffee and sit down with Jesus before Lucy wakes up, and stare out our living room window at the quiet, dark blue light- signs of a dawn almost breaking- those mornings are a time for remembering… Remembering who I am, Whose I am, what kind of person/wife/friend/etc I want to be. I do this by reading the Word (maybe to read is to remember?) journal and/or write down some thankfuls. Counting grace by counting gifts, as Ann so wonderfully talks about.

I savor that kind of morning so much, but throughout the week, I have to realize it’s not always going to happen.

Pinterest perfect, yes? That's because that's where I found it.
Pinterest perfect, yes? That’s because that’s where I found it.

And I don’t want to be so caught up in everything having to be perfect (see above; perfectly Austenian, yes?) that I’m only seeking the Lord if I have an hour of quiet. Because it’s not a perfect life we live. It is SO messy, and sometimes I go to bed without making coffee for the morning, and leave all the dishes in the sink, and it thoroughly irks me to my core when they’re still there in the morning. (Where are the dish fairies that are supposed to come and clean them up while I sleep??? Mine are slacking…)  

Leigh Ann created a whole wonderful blog post about this! One quote says:

“Fellow mamas, can we ban mommy guilt and our idealized versions of what our quiet times should look like and instead bask in mommy grace?… I recently read Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss. Add it to your list. You’ll love it. But she said (emphasis mine):

God knows these seasons of motherhood and [*gasp*] He ordained them. He gets more glory when we serve our children with a joyful heart than He would if we were able to steal away for private devotions with Him.”

(Yes, it’s a quote in a quote… Now I want to go get that book she mentions. Doesn’t it sound good?)

 

So. The goal- whether I have 1 minute or 1 hour of time with Jesus- is to think this thought: “Listen to my voice in the morning, Lord. Each morning I bring my requests to you and wait expectantly.”

There it is! And yes... I taped it. Don't judge.
There it is! And yes… I taped it. Don’t judge

 

How much would change if I had an expectant soul, watching and waiting for the Lord, even when I am 10 minutes behind? Even in the coffee-splattered, baby-spatted, hair-half-done moments? Well, at least that’s what I long for.

Clive the Coffee Pot.
Clive the Coffee Pot.

I know people that have WAY more going on than I do- more children, more work, more extracurriculars, etc. and they seem to just overflow with grace, peace, love- abundance. And they probably didn’t get to sit serenely for an hour- or even 5 minutes- before their day started. Does this mean I won’t work to have my own quiet time? Of course not. I love it, for one thing. And right now, at my maturity level, I seem to do much better after 10 minutes of *hopefully* uninterrupted time with the Lord, time to set my intention for the day, time to remember, instead of just forgetting- just abrasively bludgeoning through my day like a bull in a china shop.

So. This one is going by Clive the Coffee Maker, second only to oxygen in responsibility to keep me alive, and I will see it every time I get more of that most treasured beverage. Coffee to keep me alive; Word to keep me living.

Reclaiming Abundance: The Princess (week 2!)

Technically, we are into week 3 of the Reclaiming Abundance Project, and I should’ve posted this end of last week, but time got away… the cheeky monkey. Anywho, this week, I wanted to do a verse for Lucy’s room, and I couldn’t help beginning with this one:

Psalm 45:13-15
“All glorious is the princess within her chamber;
her gown is interwoven with gold.
In embroidered garments she is led to the king;
her bridesmaids follow behind her…

They are bubbling with joy as they enter the palace of the king.”

I’ve always loved this verse. On the surface, it’s a beautiful and ancient bridal song, and the words alone conjure a scene of palpable anticipation and exuberance. But I also treasure it, because I do believe that as a child of God, adopted and redeemed through Jesus, I’m a daughter of the King. Aka a Princess. (And really, isn’t that obvious? I just knew it.) So. A princess verse in a princess frame for… well, a Little Princess. And who among us children of the 90’s can resist thinking of that magical movie based on the book by Frances Hodgson Burnett? (If you haven’t read that book and/or watched the movie, GO DO IT NOW.)

pink frame 5
See what I mean? Totally a princess frame.

 

And my dearest wish for Lucy is that she becomes who she’s meant to be- that she would see herself as the princess that she is. Let me be clear: I don’t mean just a vapid, frothy idea of princesshood. For when you bear the name and image of God, you must answer your calling- you must step into your greatness. Be brave and be beautiful, not merely a shiny, useless-but-lovely trinket, but a warrior- someone who fights for God’s mission- to bring love, peace, and wholeness to that which is rejected, war-torn, and broken. Or, I could simply say the calling is to be who you are. Not just “who you are” in the paltry sense that the world offers, but be who He intends you to be. Because that’s infinitely better. It means being willing to be uncomfortable, to surrender your own agenda, to build your life on something other than whim and temporal desires. I desperately pray that this would be the cornerstone of Lucy’s heart.

pink frame 2 pink frame 3 pink frame 4

 

“Lucy” a name which after all means “Light.” And her middle name “Kate” which means “Pure.” So. May she be Pure Light. And you won’t understand this if you don’t love The Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia (Lucy’s fictional namesake, if ever she had one), but I think of Galadriel’s phial of the light of Earendil which she gives to Frodo:

And better yet, I think of Eowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan:

“You are a daughter of kings…” Goosebumps.

 

And then there’s Lucy Pevensie and her relationship with Aslan *insert weepy emotionalness here* which of course embodies what I’m getting at more than anything- I want her to love Jesus like this.

 

Everyone back from getting their tissues??? Ok, good.

I so love this verse, because it bubbles up the joy in me, as it were, at every phase of my life. I’m pretty sure that wonderful Aimee friend of mine was the first one to write it on a card and send to me on a birthday or some such thing… So, maybe Lucy will see it throughout her life, and roll her eyes every time I bring it up… and maybe I’ll catch her doodling it on one of her sketchbooks (if she does that sort of thing) with lots of swirls and flourishes, and I’ll know that she knows that she’s a Daughter of the King. A glorious princess.

pink frame 1 All glorious pink frame 6

Full disclosure, this is a mash up of NIV for the first part and then New English Translation for the bubbling with joy part… Because who could resist that? How wonderful to bubble with joy as you enter the presence of the King? And really, this is my prayer for myself as much as it is for Lucy. ((Confession: I almost forgot to admit that I definitely changed “virgin companions” to bridesmaids, which was in one of the translations I read… I don’t even remember which one. And no, I’m not going to look it up and tell you. Mostly, it was a space issue, but it does have the added perk of avoiding an awkward conversation of Lucy asking me what “virgin companions” are.))

 

And you may notice that the one above without a frame reveals a little princess on the right side… sadly you can’t see her much when placed inside the frame. This, children, is why you pay attention to things and plan ahead… (There’s my articulate bit of wisdom for the week.)

 

So, don’t forget. You are a princess. (Ok, or a prince I guess…) A child of the Most High God. You are meant for great things.

 

And here (because I can’t resist) is MY princess- 5 months old!

Lucy 5 months