Beginning.

I always want snow on my birthday.  It's like the repetitive heart wish that I don't outgrow as the years escape me.  So while I snuck away for a mid-afternoon bath before the kids got home from school, I couldn't believe it when I saw flurries falling from outside the window.  I sat in the warm water and sobbed uncontrollably.  It was a release of this year.  A release of the colorful chaos to the cleansing white.  It was a good moment.

 

I reflected a lot on the past year over the last few days.  Notice I said 'reflected' and not dwelled.  I thought so much about our hearts and how resilient they truly are.  My heart has been broken and yet it is stronger than ever.  We are complex creatures who are capable of amazing things, like healing for example.  

I thought a lot about love. 

Mostly because I feel it easily but I know that some do not.  I would like to think that my ability to freely give it and receive it is a gift while others probably think it's a curse.  I know that some hold back from loving because it can lead to such immense pain.  But I have learned that while you are loving it's the most beautiful and treasured form of self.  And if you lose the person or thing that you love, it often makes way for your heart to mend, and heal correctly-binding up and forgetting the places that once were achy and tattered.  

I thought a lot about children. 

And how many of them surround me.  How they enrich my life.  How are they are difficult and challenging yet refreshing and innocent.  They ooze second chances.  They crave normalcy and structure.  They are learning every day and teaching me as we go.  I thought about my life, my children and what great new things may lie ahead.  

On my birthday I thought about God.

My journey with Him.  My closeness to Him.  I thought about His never changing, never ceasing persistence in our lives.  He is the director of our steps, whether we know it or not.  He is ultimately in control and His plan is good.  He gives and takes away and I love Him for it.  He makes a way when there seems to be no way and I have never been more sure of it.  He makes beauty from ashes and this life is proof that it is so.  

I spent my birthday thinking about happiness, joy, surrender, journey, love, laughter. 

I looked at my kids and felt overwhelmingly lucky that they are mine and that I get to spend every day taking care of them. 
I looked at my friends and literally felt like the world was made for us.  We could conquer it, I'm sure.

I looked at my home and felt at ease.  It holds wonderful memories of the past and wonderful moments in the present.  We may not stay forever but it holds the key to many milestones that I'm thankful for.

I looked at my heart and saw clearly that it is beating out a new rhythm.  One of falling in love again.  One of intimate talks that lead to only-you glances.  I trust my heart to just be here and now. 

To just be.



So I entered into year 29 with a whole lot of happiness. 

Snow flurries sang gently to my soul, "This year is full of promise.  This year is all new."

I heard it loud and clear and cried at the prospect of a year full of really happy moments. 

 

Kids made homemade cards that talked of their love for me.

Cheesecake was sent in the mail, from afar, by the one my heart adores [do you wonder why?]

Friends surrounded me with good food and a lot of inappropriate, loud talk and laughter.

Parents and grandparents showered me with gifts and hugs of total affection.  I felt their pride and they will never know how they empower me to always be a better human.

 

29 started with love.

It was all I could ever dream for the day and for every day to come. 

Year 29 will be the year of white. 

New, Fresh, Clear.

Beginning.