I want a window above my kitchen sink.

I've never been one for dark places. When I move into a place, I seek out the brightest bedroom. When I enter a building, I sit closest to a window or door. When I want to think, I go outside--in the light. I seek out light. I search for it on rainy days, gloomy mornings, and evenings where the sun is still to be found just over that hill or that tree. I thrive in the light. I think this is true of most of us.

These days I spend a lot of time at the kitchen sink (as every mother, wife, or cook does). Because we live in a townhouse (with another attached to the back), there is no window above my sink. There is no natural light in my kitchen, and it's killing me. I just want to look out the window at the changing leaves, the blowing wind, the blue sky, the busy life in my street. I want to feel like I'm out in the world, even when I'm inside washing dishes. I want the light to cascade into my window, onto my soapy hands, and warm my face. One day (hopefully soon, maybe in our next house) I want a window above my kitchen sink, and light in every room.

I think this hunger for light is only a sign of our deep desire to rid the darkness around us. More than just seeking a bright place, I must seek the true Light. In every day circumstances, as the dark world drags me down, I must look for the Light. That Light brings me hope, offers me salvation, and emanates love. Just as I search for light in my dark kitchen, I must search for The Light in this dark life--seeking joy through Him. When your life is looking gloomy, look to the One who brightens your perspective with the truth of who He is. He is light and salvation. He is truth and grace. He is all things good. Find that sliver of light in the darkness and run to it today. He'll take that sliver and make it an open window, a bright light, a ray of hope and joy. Stay there. Linger. Let the Light hit your face, warm you slowly, and give you goosebumps. Let the Light do what it does--pierce the darkness.

"Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, 'I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.'" John 8:12

My two year old going on fourteen

Dearest Sybil,
Please slow down. You are growing up too fast. Maybe it's because you move at the speed of light or because time just never stops, but you're getting too smart too quickly.

My little baby, who only a year ago began to walk and talk and eat big people food, now has no limitations. You talk in full sentences, always telling me exactly what you want and saying words like "decoration" and your full name, even with the L's and S included. You somehow conjugate verbs on your own, without ever being taught how. You run everywhere, leaving no room for weight gain and that little butt remains a baby butt, able to fit in the palm of my hand. You put your socks and shoes on by yourself. You're potty trained. You pick your own clothes out--and sometimes, it's not half bad. You dance like an 80's rock star...and often times have a headband to prove you're rockin' the 80's. You can recognize the letters A, B, and C. You count to 10 in English and Spanish. You hum songs and raise your hands in church as we worship Jesus. You pray in the sweetest little voice while you're hands are folded so perfectly.

You often times outsmart me. You cannot be manipulated or coerced. You are stubborn, oh so stubborn. But you are so sweet. You apologize and thank me without prompting. The other day you thanked the waiter for bringing our food while we were out to eat. You know how to push a stroller--understanding that you need to push your right hand when you want to move left, and your left when you want to move right. When asked how old you are this week, you delightfully yell, "Two!" and put your two fingers in the air. You express your love so frequently, yelling, "Mama, I love you!" What can't you do?!

I am amazed by you, child. I barely remember when you were in my womb, kicking me continuously. I do, however, remember laboring for you, pushing for four hours, and then having to cut you out anyway because you chose to not turn your head. You were stubborn from the beginning. I should have known nothing would change. You bring me and your father more joy than you'll ever know. You're so weird and quirky, having to do things a certain way and having OCD as a toddler. Sometimes when I am surprised by your weirdness, I only have to remember how weird your parents are and then just laugh. You're just like your father, and only a little like me. I'm glad you got more of him than me. He's a treasure and so are you. Please stay young, little one. The world is too harsh to want to grow up so quickly. Enjoy your innocence and the days where your every need is cared for.

Happy birthday, my sweet love. I pray I'd have you by my side for many more years.

Love,
Mom, mommy, and mama (since you call me by all three)