The Growing Years

Today is October 1st, and I whimsically decided to blog for 31 days. I'm joining the Nester, who has been doing this for 6 years. I don't think I've ever completed the challenge. In fact, I know I haven't, because that's just the kind of person I am. I get excited at the beginning, then peeter out to nothingness at the end, wondering why on earth I even thought this was a good idea. My husband can vouch for this. Last night he said "Oh, you will write for 3 days in a row...then you won't write again for months."

He knows me all too well.

What do I write about? How can I, little old me, find something that will grasp the heart strings of all these lovely ladies who have a bazillion gazillion followers and know how to make blog buttons and write books about mothering and wifer-ing and on and on and on I think. I think myself into a state of absolute pity-partyness until my husband says this:

"Write about Us. Write about the memories we have in our family".

He said this to me at Fursty's, a family-owned Italian place in our town, as I sat with my 1-year-old baby girl to my left and my 5-year-old brave boy across from me. We were surrounded by cheese sticks, goldfish, and a whole lotta ranch dressing for dippin', but this ordinary place became home. It was home because gifts of mercy were staring back at me with brown eyes... all 3 sets of them.

It's not about the other people who read this, although I love ya'll. It's not about how many people come visit to read or how many comments I get on facebook. It's about a story that needs to be told for me and my husband and my sweet legacies that are living out each chapter.

These are The Growing Years. The Years that go so slow but oh, so very fast. The Years that were cupped with laughter and some with many bitter tears. The Years that taught me to live and are ahead of me to live into, for as long as the Good Lord sees fit. These are the growing moments that brought me to Jesus when I didn't want to be brought, showed me how to mother when I wanted to run, gave me deeper love for my patient husband as I took 10 haphazard swings at a little white ball going toward a little red flag way in the distance...

Come Grow with me, and grab yourself some sweet tea, a pumpkin spiced latte, diet coke, or a glass of wine if it's one of those days. I've got some Growin' to do!


Day 2: Growing Up  
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7 
Day 8  
Day 9 
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14 
Day 15 
Day 16 
Day 18 
Day 19
Day 20 
Day 21
Day 22  
Day 23
Day 24, 25, 26