This week I have been thinking about the seemingly juxtaposed ideas of accepting oneself in the moment and also believing in room for growth.

In the center of those two ideas, I have discovered that to truly believe in your growth is to believe it is inside you all along. That you have already, laying within you, the capability to be more kind, more understanding, more loving. Your capacity to reach your fullest potential is a small seed. Accepting the seed in its first, small phase is just as crucial of knowing how tall and far its fruits can reach. You have to accept both, to believe in the value and worth of each.

Accept yourself and know God loves you for where you are at this very moment. Your shape, your opinions, your understanding, your capacity for love.

But I hope you also know that we ALWAYS have room to grow and improve and believing in that does NOT negate how much God loves you in this moment. I often think of the potential God can see, how He leads and guides me to reach it. But sometimes I focus too much upon that potential, forgetting His love is there the entire time. He sees your potential and desires for you to reach it, but His love is perfect and eternal. He has always and will always love you. He sees the good in you now, in whatever form you come in, and He loves you.

Sometimes I think we all need that reminder.

Snapshots from this week (THIS MORNING!)

Max, 4 years old

Daniel, 18 months

This was a hard week for me. I was reminded that life is disappointing, far more often than any of us would like. Losing James was the biggest disappointment I have ever experienced and new disappointments feel like ripping the scab off of that wound. It is hard to be vulnerable and put yourself out there. With optimism you express faith in yourself, in your choices, in your abilities. But the reality is, you might still get disappointed. That disappointment might remind you of the worst moment in your life, where you were let down in a monumental way.

It is enough to make anyone bitter towards existence, to know that rejection is always possible. That things might not work out the way imagined.

I mulled that over this week. I haven’t really put myself out there since James passed. I write here, posting thoughts and pictures that may or may not get read. It really doesn’t matter. It is a space where I think and create with freedom and optimism.

The hard part is taking those thoughts and living them. Being at peace with them. Being at peace with disappointment.

Because all the bad things CAN happen.

But it is never reason enough to retreat from life. To build walls and never leave.

I want my children to see me living bravely despite what occurred in my life; rising above the fear of failure and disappointment.

Of course, I don’t do it alone. I find that optimism again, that faith in myself in the knowledge that I am a child of God. I have a divine heritage that is a continuous reminder of my worth and potential, especially when I doubt it.

Heavy stuff.

Snapshots:

Went on a hike yesterday and had my camera settings all wrong, but I managed to get some cute profiles of the boys.

Max, 4 years

Daniel, 18 months

Slowly but surely these brothers are learning to play together. Max plays the part of dictator which causes Daniel  to revolt and start a revolution but for the minute that it lasts before a civil war breaks out…so adorable.

I was speaking to a friend recently about this weird stage I am at in life. Being in my hometown is wonderful and is affording me to finally pursue a variety of interests. Because of family willing to lend a hand watching Max and Daniel, I am volunteering with a children’s show choir, auditioning for plays, attending a writing group, singing in adult choirs, and tinkering around with a few other things. It feels wonderful to feel like there is time for my personal development and it makes me incredibly happy that all of these passions/hobbies/pursuits work with my desire to stay home and take care of these crazy boys.

Winter was fighting spring this week, temperatures fluctuating and rain pouring down. There are always those weird weeks when seasons make their last stand and it feels like it casts a spell on everything around it. Children feel more on edge and you never know whether the day will be full of warm hugs or chilling shrieks. It is funny how we reflect nature in so many ways.

Snapshots from this week:

Max, 4 years old  Daniel, 17 months

Enjoy the weekend!