The young lady

On this day where you turn 10 into 11 - even though I'm pretty sure you made me a deal last year that you would turn double digits but then stop right there - you amaze me. Like my mother, I hope you forget the times where I speak too sharply and you clam up with your thoughts, and remember our every-morning hugs and smiles.

I love how you are the best example of every-vegetable-under-the-sun eating for your siblings around here. Way better than me. How you hold up the snow pea - which had rarely-to-never graced the dinner table - and just popped it in. "Hm. Pretty good."

You and me and Spotify could go for hours. Sometimes we do, on Friday nights when your dad's patience with Tangled soundtrack songs runs out and he requests Eric Clapton or Rod Stewart and then we launch into rabbit trails of songs that you love or hate. When you have your own computer, you say, you're not filling playlists with Irish music.

You are nearing the thousands in pictures taken since you got your camera last year, and it's almost always nature that catches your eye. Sometimes people - usually sister subjects; but mostly the beauty of God's creation and close ups of things in the light that you like the look of. I like seeing how you see things.

I'm so sorry about art camp. You don't always like trying new activities with new people, and I did my best mom-gently-pushes routine and convinced you to say yes. I just knew it would be the thing for you, in my gut. And by the morning of, you were nervous but almost totally bought in. Excited, even. Telling your sisters what kinds of things you were going to get to make and try. And no one was there. Cancelled. Thank you for your maturity and grace in dealing with disappointment.

I love how much time and thought you put into your birthday menu, and how this year you decided to go easy on the vegetables for the sake of your siblings. That was very thoughtful. You are a "foodie", and I can't wait to see how the Lord uses that in your life.

Happy birthday, DK.

my "place", defined

“Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand. 
Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!
Who stretched a measuring line across it?
On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone — while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?

“Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt’?

“Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place, that it might take the earth by the edges and shake the wicked out of it?
The earth takes shape like clay under a seal; its features stand out like those of a garment.
The wicked are denied their light, and their upraised arm is broken.

“Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep?
Have the gates of death been shown to you?
Have you seen the gates of the deepest darkness?
Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth? Tell me, if you know all this.

“What is the way to the abode of light? And where does darkness reside?
 Can you take them to their places? Do you know the paths to their dwellings?
 Surely you know, for you were already born! You have lived so many years!

(Job 38: 4-21)

And the prize for comedic timing goes to...

I was on the phone, late to the semi-regular evening Bible time (we're going through Acts together this summer). The kids and Eric were finishing up reading through the section when I slid into my living room chair, and I heard the verse from near the end of Acts 4: "...those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales, and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need."

"Sorry I'm late!" I said. "I hate missing that...are you still reading or are you discussing? Read that one again, it's one of my favorite verses!"

*Long pause as everyone adjusts to Mom's interruption of their train of thought.*

"At that moment she fell down at his feet and died," read Delaney (from Acts 5, which we were not even reading yet).