I'll Find You Near the Honeysuckle Bush

I remembered you then. When the smell of honeysuckle swept past me in a breeze, I remembered you. I saw you again, standing near a honeysuckle bush, tasting the sweet juice in it's delicate bloom. You stood there, wrapped in sunlight and joy. Little girl, I saw you.

"Remember me", you seemed to say with your soft brown eyes. "When you're older, remember me- remember this moment". And now, that same moment is lost somewhere in the tangles of a nighttime dream- in the breeze of a daytime memory. Little girl, I lost you for awhile.

There are moments when I remember you, though. You and your effortless faith- your effortless love- your effortless joy. And, I miss you then- in those moments. The smell of honeysuckle makes me miss you. Little girl, I miss you now.

Now, I have fears. Your fears were small and always gone as quickly as lightening dissolves in the night. But, my fears are big. You were braver than I am. I didn't know it then, but you were brave. I get lost sometimes in my fears. I get scared in the night and wake up with a thousand tears. I cry much more than you ever did. Little girl, you were brave.

I see you again, standing near the honeysuckle bush, and I ache for you. I ache for your effortless faith that eventually lost it's ease when the storms didn't dissolve so quickly in the night. I ache for your effortless love that tarnished with too many broken hearts. I ache for your effortless joy that became more difficult when the world found you and staked their claim on your dreams. Little girl, I ache for you.

I remember you now. I remember who you were, and I miss you- I'll always miss you when the smell of honeysuckle finds me in a breeze.

But, Little girl, I make you this promise: I'll forever keep your memory safe near the honeysuckle bush.

Because, Little girl, I was you.

The End of the Line

yesterday was the beginning

today could be the end

making

wishes

on

stars

and found pennies

and sometimes the color red

dreams collected in mason jars

next to glass marbles and buttons

and shiny toys that kids lost in the sand

how many days have since past?

how many suns have set?

since the very first day

that I remembered

my life

was

just

a moon

away

I tried to write it all down

on a brand new spiraled book

I dotted my I’s and crossed the T’s

and lined up the words in perfect rows

but again, once again, I forgot to remember

that punctuation was meant for the end of the line

and now sentences start with points of exclamation

but end with words trailing off into space

and all I'm left with is

wishes

on

stars

I am me

You ask me who I am, and the answer is simple:

I am me.

I am a girl with a fast beating heart. Made from billions of cells, I'm a molecular marvel- a miracle of life.

I have complicated ideas about this world and myself, and how my self figures into this world. I am the sum of a thousand dreams and countless wishes made on fallen eyelashes and coins tossed at wells. I hold my breath and say silent prayers through long tunnels.

When you ask me who I am, I know the answer immediately:

I am me.

I'm a girl who makes messes and still wonders why life is messy. Sometimes, I'm the girl who cries wolf, and sometimes I'm the wolf in sheep's clothing. I am as complex as I am simple. I cry when my heart says laugh, and laugh to keep from crying. I throw caution to the wind and I color outside the lines using bright red paint. I drive too fast and walk too slow and sometimes lose my way.

I am exactly who I was created to be:

I am me.

And, while everyday I find a hundred new reasons why I'll never be good enough- I always have one reason why I already am:

I am His.

A Young Mother

I watched her young face contort in pain, her breathing growing more labored by the second. A cup full of ice chips flew across the room. "I don’t want this" she yelled. I dodged the ice, and waited for the pain to relent a bit. When the monitor attached to her belly indicated that the contraction had ended, I approached her. I caressed her hand and explained my job. I told her that I would be at the birth to make sure her baby was okay. She looked at me, through a fringe of dark bangs- and my heart tugged in the realization that she was, herself, just a baby. Sixteen years old, and scared. Sixteen years old, and about to take on a job that even I, 8 years her senior, felt unprepared for. Motherhood.

I thought about that word: Motherhood. It seemed too big- too important for someone so small and so unprepared. I thought about what it must feel like to be a mother, and I felt sad that she would know that feeling even before she knew what it felt like to be a woman.

Sixteen is for self-discovery. Make-up and cars. Slumber parties and school dances. Football games and Friday nights. Sixteen isn't for diaper changes and late night feedings. And, it isn't for the unending sacrifices of motherhood.

When I returned to her room later, the baby was close to being born. I recalled Psalm 139: "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb". A familiar mix of awe and humility stirred deep in my chest, and I knew that this child wasn't a mistake. "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."

Not long after, a baby boy was born. Pink and fat. His mouth wide in an urgent cry. Demanding. Already demanding. I wrapped him tightly in a warm blanket and held him in my arms. "Happy Birthday, Baby" I whispered. "You are a child of God- above all- you are His child. Remember that."

The new mother looked at me for a moment and we locked eyes. Already she looked older and I felt a tug of sadness again. She asked if he was okay and I said "He looks great, I think he'll be fine". And, I silently prayed that she would be, too.

I handed the baby boy to his young mother and congratulated her. I told her that he was handsome and strong. She smiled at him, and giant tears rolled down her face.

"Welcome to motherhood" I whispered.