To the little girl I used to be, there are so many things I want to tell you I hardly know where to start. First of all, those girls you try so hard to fit in with, they are not your friends. You know the ones I mean, they are the ones who find their fun by humiliating others, by threatening and excluding, who go out of their way to make sure others feel worthless. These are the girls who knocked on your door and asked you out to play, who then ridiculed you and spat on your brand new winter coat and laughed until you cried. In the coming years you will learn that this is not friendship, you will find amazing girls with whom you will grow into beautiful women. These girls will not break you, they will lift you and encourage you. These girls are your true sisters, you will soon learn this child.
Try not to think of your life as boring as you watch everyone around you living in their soap opera dramas. You might think their lives are so much more exciting than yours as they go through boyfriends and break ups and you play the ear to listen when they pick you back up again. Trust me little one, one day you will be glad to be the boring one, one day you will learn that the break ups and arguments and seemingly interesting parts of life are just painful and unwanted. You with your uninteresting life, you get to stroke tears away from cheeks, you get to listen and love, you get to be a rock for someone who can't find their feet. Embrace this role.
Stop starving yourself! You are perfect the way you are! Your weight will fluctuate throughout the years, but let me let you in on a secret...when you are twenty five, that body of yours will give birth to a beautiful baby boy. That extra weight you gain will no longer mean anything to you but the weight needed to create life and those stretch marks, just your body's way of making room for your child. This is when, for the first time, you will stop worrying about the size of your thighs or the wobble of your arms and realize there are far more important things in life than this.
One final word before I go. Visit your grandparents more often. I know you are young and would rather be out playing with your friends, but they are your family and they are elderly. They will not be around forever. And you will feel deep sadness when they go, that you didn't take more time to sit with them and tell them about your week.
There are many more things I would tell you if I could, but I will leave you with this. Keep loving your parents, be loyal to your true friends, and that brother of yours will soon stop tormenting you and will even be the first at the hospital to hold his new baby nephew.
Adulthood is waiting for you, so stop trying to grow up and just enjoy being a child whilst you can.
I am linking up today with Melanie at Indirect Revelations who is graciously guest hosting for the Letters to link up! Please visit her site and feel free to take part, today's prompt is 'A letter to a younger me'.
To the fly on the wall,
I'm sure, to you, my life must seem a little scattered at the moment. You see my tears flow, and just as quickly as they began, turn to laughter. You hear the anger and harsh words thrown between loved ones, and the embraces of apology and forgiveness soon after.
I'm sure envy is not something you will have felt for me this past week.
When times are tough (which they seem to be so often these days) it's hard to direct the fear into positivity, to turn terror into productivity as is usually my way. When it feels like everything is falling apart, the lines of communication are broken, and love feels lost, like a grey cloud resting over my home and heart, blurring what's real and what's important.
I'm sure, like me, you noticed the absence of his cheeky smile, his child-like playfulness and his very loud and out of tune renditions of Lionel Richie. I wonder if you too would have given anything to put the spark back, to hear him say he is fine and actually believe it.
But somewhere in the grey, underneath the fear and in-between the hateful words bouncing off of these walls, our hearts are still beating and my lips are still praying and hoping to be heard.
Love has not left this place just because we are struggling to understand each other. Life is not over just because another obstacle has landed in our path.
I wonder, fly on the wall, if you have seen the armor of God surrounding me in these last few days, if you have witnessed the many answered prayers that have blessed this house. How quickly things can change in the space of a week. How different today has been from the last seven. How my prayers have changed from desperate requests to songs of thanks.
I know that He is with me, and through the hurt, the sadness and the fear of the unknown I have felt His guiding hand upon my shoulder. I have heard His soothing words of encouragement, to trust in Him, to stand firm, to practice forgiveness and compassion.
And slowly, fly on the wall, my home is returning to normal. You will hopefully notice the lighter air, the smiles creeping back to our lips, the peace within my heart. And the warbling of Lionel Richie is surely just around the corner.
This fortnight's prompt is Letter to the fly on the wall - over to you!
The next 'Letters to' will be held at Ruth's place at Learning {One day at a time} on the 17th September and the prompt will be 'A letter to a younger me'.
This is for you to tuck in your pocket. To keep with you through the ups and downs of the day, through the topsy turvy of life. It doesn't matter if you fold it neatly, or scrunch it into a ball, the message will remain. It doesn't matter if you accidentally put it in the wash with your new blue jeans, the words still stand.
In this season of your life, cherish the blessings, the troubles will soon end.
This, for you, is a beautiful season. You are young, you are healthy. You have a brand new baby boy who is ever changing and amazing you, whose naive and unconditional love and trust for you pushes you forward to be a better person, to set a good example.
You have so much to sing about, yet your voice is so often silenced. Your eyes can sometimes only see the struggles, the reasons to cry, to close the doors and succumb to the anxiety and fear. Your tunnel vision sees not the beautiful friends and family whose support and guidance could lighten the load, the burden, if you would only let them, but instead sees the solitude of adulthood, the bills which need paying and that light on the dashboard which won't go out and will surely fail the MOT.
You notice how others don't have to look for bargains in the supermarket, or buy the 'own' brands, or justify that Starbucks coffee until they are blue in the face. You wave goodbye to friends as they set off on their holidays, or admire their new driveway or conservatory and you try so hard to just be happy for them. You listen with a smile to their grand wedding plans, you squeal with excitement in the appropriate places but you can't help but compare it to your own budget wedding, the one you will have to do on the cheap if you still want to pay the mortgage in the foreseeable future.
You are scared of what's around the corner, anxious about juggling night shifts with being a full time mother. Let me remind you. This is just a phase in your life, this is not the forever. These times will pass, and the sweet fruits of the season will remain.
This is a reminder to you, please tuck it in your pocket, keep it close. Cherish the blessings, the God-given miracles of life, build beautiful memories, take many pictures, pray hard and always remember, the troubles will pass, this is just a phase, don't let them block the view of your beautiful season.
And it truly is a beautiful season.
Linking up this fortnight with the lovely Ruth @ learning {one day at a time} for the fantastic Letters To link up. This fortnights prompt is 'Letter to tuck in your pocket'.
You might have noticed the way I breeze through the corridor with a melody on my lips, with a rhythm in my hips and a spring in my step. But do you notice that there is a song in my heart? Do you notice the small moments where my palms are ever so slightly tilted towards the heavens, where my eyelids flutter closed for a brief second or two?
You might have noticed the beautifully designed book which so regularly holds my interest, adorned with butterflies and flowers in the sweetest shade of pink, and you may have wondered what it is that intrigues me so. But do you notice the way I clutch it to my person, embracing the bindings between readings like a child reluctant to let go of a security blanket?
Some of you might have noticed my ability to smile through the terrifying and maintain optimism through the hard times. But do you notice the fleeting words of praise that keep me steady, the whispered butterflies of thanks and please that give me hope?
Look deeper, and you might notice. It is no secret. It is not just for me. God wants us to lift our hearts and voice to him, to sing praise with every soulful note within us. He wants us to immerse ourselves in his word, so we can show Jesus' love to others. He wants us to stand firm against him in all our struggles, to trust in Him and spread hope to the hopeless, strength to the weary and help to those in need.
So through my troubles I will keep singing, I will keep reading, learning and growing.
I will keep smiling and I pray that you will keep noticing.
A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.
John 13:34-35
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Today's 'Letters to' is 'Letter to the one who noticed'. The link is now open and ready to receive all your wonderful posts!
The next 'Letters to' will be on the 20th August with the delightful Ruth Povey over at Learning {one day at a time} and the prompt will be 'Letter to tuck in your pocket'.
Before you come into my house, please let me explain. I was just in the middle of doing the dishes...that's why there are dirty plates on the kitchen sides. Oh and please excuse the floors, I was planning to sweep them later today.
Please take a seat and I'll get you a drink...I'm afraid I don't have much at the moment, the shopping is being delivered tomorrow.
I know my hair is a mess, and I probably have banana mashed into my leggings...the baby just had his lunch, I don't usually look this unkempt. Please relax on the sofa, I'll just clear these empty mugs away, oh and you don't mind if I quickly put a load of washing on do you?
Please let me explain, as I feel I must.
I feel I must.
Every day my mouth pours out explanations and excuses for one thing or another. The order of my home, my appearance, the tidiness of my car, why my baby is crying and doesn't want you to cuddle him. But this is my home, and you are welcome to enter, you are welcome to sit in my space, you are welcome to drink tea and talk and laugh and cry and spill crumbs on the floor. Your children are welcome to drag out toys, to mash their lunch into the sofa, to parade sticky hands up and down hardwood floors.
Why am I making excuses as though I am ordinarily the perfect host and housewife and mother and homemaker? Why am I explaining things away as though they are not the normal. I do sometimes have a messy house, but dishes are less important than my child wanting me to plant raspberries on his tummy. And sweeping floors comes second to a friend who needs an ear to listen. When I am old, will I look back through my life and remember that I didn't always have a perfect home, perfect hair, dust free sills, or will I remember the memories created in the spaces that weren't filled with cleaning and grooming and trying to appear perfect?
So please come in, sit and have some cake, this is my home and it is lived in, and it is loved in. No explanations.
Linking up today with the delightful Ruth at ruthpovey.com for the fabulous new 'Letters to' link up!
Where are you now brave girl? Where is the girl who lived fearlessly in the moment? The girl who was afraid of nothing?
I remember the days when you would sing your lungs out, dizzying yourself as you twirled around the house in your little red leotard. Those were the days when you would perform for anyone, breakdancing to Tracey Chapman with no care of who might be watching. You were the girl who helped build a den with the boys in the woods, your hands grubby and hair matted with soil. You went on rollercoasters that threw you in the air, the faster the better, again and again. Remember the days of playing goalie with the older boys? You were willing to take any position to just join in, to be a part of it.
You were the girl who could so easily talk to strangers, sparking conversations as though you were already friends.
I don't know where you are anymore little girl, perhaps you got lost on the way to adulthood, when reality became a lot scarier than the bubble wrap of youth. Maybe you are still in there somewhere, that little voice that says 'go on...you might enjoy it!' and is more often than not ignored.
How I wish I could be more like you child, to be brave again, to be carefree...to sing as though the world is my audience.
The next 'Letters to' will be held at ruthpovey.com on the 16th July and the prompt will be 'Letters to explain', I hope to see you all over there in a fortnight!
For now though, it's over to you! :)
I was six centimetres dilated when I met you. It had been a hard and painful day and I was a wonderful mixture of elated and petrified. My whole body was contracting fiercely as the life inside me made it's way closer to the world.
You were just doing your job, the same thing you did every day. I was half naked, very happy on gas and air and giving my camera toting fiance the thumbs up!
I am so excited to be guest posting today over at ruthpovey.com to launch our new bi-monthly 'Letters to...' link up! This fortnights prompt is 'Letters to a stranger'.
Click here to read the rest of this post and get involved with this exciting new link-up!
Happy posting everyone!
