Goodbye 27. Hello 28

Goodbye 27. Honestly, 28 doesn’t sound that much older then 27, so don’t get all uppity or anything.

Thanks for teaching me a little more patience. I do hope 28 is a little bit of a gentler teacher than you, though. You don’t have to be all-in-my-face, you know.

Thanks for the good moments and the bad. Well, I really just mean the good but I know what I’m supposed to say, you know. It’s like in Sunday school. Just say “Jesus” and all will be fine. Your teacher and your father will be immensely proud of you.

Seriously though, if I stop being sarcastic for a moment, I have to admit that while I would never chose the hard things, I am not sorry for the lessons they have taught me. I might still prefer a little fairy to come along and instill a loving and forgiving and totally nice character into me without having to go through, you know, hardships.

But if this is the way it has to be, then so be it. Through living we learn to live. And I do live. I do think I’m nicer at the beginning of 28 than 27. Imagine how nice I will be in at 100.

Thanks for the new books. And through the books the stories and worlds and travels and friends.

For the new music and for learning I like making songs.

For making my 3 boys a little bigger and more independent. It’s a thrilling thing, to be sure. Although I do miss the whole tiny baby thing. Don’t say this to 28. I like babies but not so much the 9-months-being-a-depressed-elephant thing. Although I am well aware that I am incredibly blessed to have 3 beautiful children, just like that!

Thanks for teaching me to hang in there. Thanks for teaching me that I don’t have to feel guilty about every thing I say or don’t say and do or don’t do. I can’t promise you I’m putting it in practice but I know the theory by heart now. Thanks for showing me that Christ loves me the way I am. If He would have preferred me perfect He would have made me so.

Thanks for showing me that failings and uncertainties and getting up and keeping on going is a beautifully human and simply beautiful thing. Making mistakes can be a beautiful thing. Just look at all the accidental babies walking around on this planet.

That He loves my story the way it’s going. Otherwise He could have just forced everything to happen a certain way.

Thanks for showing me that it’s good even when it isn’t good, because we can love and laugh and read books and hold hands no matter how sucky it is, and how un-lovely we feel. And having people to love and to have relationships with, is better then a beautiful new house, a 100 antique books, a cruise, or whichever accomplishments and dreams we can dream up.

Just doing life together with a bunch of people.

Thanks for giving me beautiful moments with friends, who stick in there with me even when I’m dreadfully annoying and who give me heartfelt compliments when I’m being awesome.

For encouraging people and words who came along on the exact right days.

Farewell beautiful days of 27. Hello beautiful days of 28.

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The Dream Dragon of Nostillitumtime

I flew up to the sun yesterday. I slid down the sunbeams, like the biggest slide on earth. They brought me to the SunLight Station and from there I went to the middle of the sun with the SunExpress. There, I had sun candies, and they tasted like light.

I caught a ride back with a falling star and quietly, sneakily, I tiptoed back into the house and lay down, back in bed. Nobody every knew.

I couldn’t possibly stay away from adventures after that. So, tonight I will dance in a rain cloud with all the raindrops. Then we will come falling down and I will slide down the rainbow on the back of the dream dragon. We will soar through the dark skies, and float quietly through the sleeping cities and villages and the dream dragon will blow dreams on sleeping children.

When we are done, we will have a dragonish breakfast of puffed clouds and a gale of wind, and some moonbeams for desert.

He will bring me back to my house, and quietly puff me in the window. Before leaving, he will kiss me with a big slobbery kiss, and blow a dragonish dream through […]

Garden magic

I walk to the far end of the garden, where the hedge meets the grass. Its branches, untouched for two years, droop down gently in a green, cascading waterfall. Now and then they ripple in the breeze.

In a few weeks, the hedge will be cut into a straight rectangle. It will be a bland, boring old lady, all prunes and prisms.

Now it is a kind friend. A friend who knows all the secrets of the garden, and will reveal them to a select few. She hides bugs, and bird nests. She protects children from colds winds and makes safe corners.

The grass is long, gone into seed. It looks like a meadow wanting to be played in, waiting for someone to lie down in its green carpet. Soft yet tickling, with little bugs exploring grass and the bodies or books on it.

Buttercups and daisies are sprinkled randomly, where the fairies wanted them most.

When I get up, it wants to remember a little longer that I was there. It keeps the imprint I made and then slowly lets it go. So slow I almost miss it, the grass sways back up, to dance in the […]

when life is not idyllic

Last year, we went to the Hallerbos. It is, as I told Abel, the place where fairies live. Every morning, before anybody else is awake they pick up their little buckets of glittery water and clean all the flowers until they shine.

I had been stalking the Hallerbos website for almost six weeks now, waiting until the Hyacinths would bloom. Then one Friday late in April we went, and I was quite excited about it.

The year before had been sunny and warm, we had picnicked and it was beautiful. Even though we did get a little lost and the walk took us a lot longer then planned.

So we parked at another parking lot, hoping it was closer to the flowers than the one we had parked at last year.

But it wasn’t.

And after about 2 minutes of walking the children decided they had enough and they wanted to go back to the car.

I, on the other hand, was intent on enjoying this walk and so I became the mom that over-cheerfully, loudly praised all the things the forest has to offer.

Mike wasn’t complaining, but the un-excitement was seeping of his face. He didn’t […]

10 good things about rain

It’s spring. And although spring came with sunshine and clear blue skies, some of the sunshine is making way for rainy days.But if I tell Abel that there are always good things to be found even in really bad days, I must find some good things about rain. Otherwise I would be lying, and I couldn’t possibly face him when he is 20 if I lie to him at 5. He’s quite the grudge holder, and could grow up to be a lawyer or a salesman. Someone who can take whichever point of view he pleases and then proceed to tell you why he is right in a very convincing way.So who ever said rain is terrible?I did. I admit it. I did it again and again but here, my dear people, are 10 reasons why it is loveable.1. ‘Pudmuddles’ and boots.

2. On very special days, there are rainbows.

3. You can hold an umbrella. Everybody loves umbrellas. And everybody loves hearing toddlers try to pronounce ‘Umbrellala’.

4. You can, if you so wish, stand outside and turn your face up to the clouds and let them drop the raindrops right into your mouth. It’s super fun, […]

Because sometimes, we don’t “get over it”

I’m a list-maker. I just love making lists.

I love that feeling of putting a check beside a line, of crossing out a line. It gives me a thrill.

When it comes to dealing with the though stuff of life, I want to put it in a list too. I want to deal with it and get it over with so that I can put a check beside that line.

But it just so happens to be that you can’t deal with everything by throwing it in a list and checking it of. A pity.

I started writing baby names in my journal when I was 13.

99% of them girl names.

I made it my mission to repeat my favorite names to my husband before we were even married, to get him used to the ones he didn’t like.

It worked (yay me), but we didn’t need the girl name for the first, the second or the third baby.

And I had the hardest time with that.

I brought it to God and tried to leave it there, I read this wonderful book about how God redeems our pain, and wrote down in my journal that I was […]

When you wonder when you will find yourself

A myth persists that as a child we grow up and develop a character, as a teenager we discover who we truly are so that by the time we are adults we are ready to step out into the world with self-confidence, ready to be who we are out there.

And then we don’t find out who we are and we don’t feel very grownup and we think our life has started of without us.

What we don’t realize fully, what flutters evasively just out of reach? Is that we are who we are and have been all along. We change and we keep changing.Discovering that you enjoy something when you are 30 doesn’t mean that you didn’t fully know yourself up until then. Or maybe it means exactly that, and that’s just it: God made us in such a beautifully complex and changing way that we need a lifetime and more to figure out ourselves.

As something new enters the story, it doesn’t say that who you were up until then was a lie. It was just a different chapter of your story, but the last chapter is just as much a part of the book as the […]