Yo Jo!
It's me, the bloggin' queen. I have no idea if you are still up to this nonsense but since I've proved myself to be pretty solid over the last 4 years (in this area at least), I figure I may have a few left in me yet. It'd be nice to look back on so many years of priceless memories, so keep it up if you can. But if you can't, I realize it means something else was more important. I also haven't a clue who you are now, but I can only hope you have slowed down a bit and improved a lot. Is that an oxymoron? I may be dying inside a little right now to figure that out. Have you died an early death from living life like a clenched fist? Have you only just survived? Are you thriving? Are you better? Are you proud of what is in front and in back of you? Is your family happy? Are they well?
If I could answer those questions now, I may choose a different path tomorrow. In any case, it's time for a change. Every tomorrow better be different. You don't have a second to lose.
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Dreading my last long run for the Utah Valley Marathon in June, I woke up in a terrible mood this last Saturday--anxious and annoyed. Who wants to run over 20 miles by themselves? It's hard. It hurts. It's painfully boring at times. And yet, it topped the list of my spiritual experiences for the year. I sobbed out loud when the words of a song rolled into my ears and spoke truth. Fields of grain swayed to the music while sweat mixed with tears and my world clicked into place. Say goodbye to who you are today. Change is inevitable. Change is hard, however, extremely rewarding when the timing is right. Every time I get a glimpse of the new direction I need to go, it hurts to let my old self go. It's physically painful. And then a squeakier version emerges. Never close to the ultimate goal, but closer. Baby steps. That's only one of many reasons why it's important to keep doing hard things.
Jourdan, I want you to know a few things. Or perhaps remember them. You are in the prime of your life. You have a husband who works his tail off to provide an incredibly blessed life for and with you. You love each other deeply and have so much more to learn together. You have three of the most adorable children ever to land on this earth under your care and tutelage. You are healthy. You feel full and alive. You have caring friends and supportive family members at every corner, lifting you when the time calls for it. Life has never been more grand nor full of joy and blessings--and each day brings more than yesterday. Do you remember me? Your children are grown and gone now...look in the mirror and say you remember this incredible life and wish for it again!
I hope you remember Milo: so curious, creative, energetic, and lovable. He is helpful and brilliant. He is forgiving and willing to learn new tricks, ideas, chores. He carries around his backpack full of treasures: dead scorpions, explorer tools, nature books, animal/machine encyclopedia's...and yes, still his precious Go-Wack. His stories are never-ending and his ideas out-of-this-world hilarious. His memory and mind are astounding. He is just about to enter kindergarten and my heart tears a little each time the thought enters my mind. The last six years have been just us: our schedule, our day, our spontaneous ideas. Once he starts, it will be a never-ending spiral of public school drama for the next umpteen years. I'm not ready. I'm not going to willingly give him or any other child up so soon. Did you make every moment count? Please don't forget that Milo's skin is like butter, his hair like a calico cat, his eyes full of wonder with a nose you could stare at all day. How has he changed? I hope not an ounce. We both have cried together about having to let each other go some day...I hope he has not forgotten his promise to stay close to me. The first to come to me, the first to leave. I can't go there, not yet.
I hope you remember Elliot: he wants your attention. He acts like he needs no one but himself but sneaks in hugs and smiles when it really counts. He is brave and daring. He is tough as nails and willing to help out once he sees his positive impact. He is sensitive to other's needs, endlessly looks up to Milo and can't keep his rough-yet-loving paws off Flora. He often sneaks outside to entertain himself when Milo got bored with the idea hours before. He is fearless in some ways and shy in others. He is always catching you by surprise even though it's often hiding out in Milo's shadow. Though, he is perfectly capable of standing on his own two feet and does most of the time even if no one seems to notice. Be sure to keep your eyes open. Notice his voice surfacing; he is strong and he is watching you. His words are drop-dead funny right now. The other day we started him on his bike (it's slightly too big for him to do it himself) and before we had noticed, he had ridden all the way down to the end of the bike trail (1.5 miles?), headed for a gas-station-treat. This means he barrelled through several intersections without stopping to look for cars and was waiting (who knows how long) for someone to start him back up on his bike so he could ride home, happy as a clam. Typical Elliot: adventurous, adorable and always on the edge of something. Do you remember that looking into his eyes set against that olive skin gives your stomach butterflies? I can bet they still do.
I hope you remember baby Flora. She has only been in our world for nine months, yet fits to our family like old jeans. She is squishier than is safe around these parts and communicates her needs perfectly with only a few looks and a little bird flapping. She wants to be in your arms. She loves to be sung to. She loves back rubs and hugs. She hardly ever stops smiling. She is the most adorable ball of goodness you have ever laid eyes on (except for your other two babies, of course). When you chase and tease her, her crawl ends with a giggling face sprawling into the carpet. Her body tenses up when you tickle her feet and there may not be a sweeter site on earth than her chubby buns in a swimsuit. The love behind her glassy blue eyes fires up your heart like nothing you've ever experienced. Having a daughter has fulfilled every last wish you could have possibly come up with in 27 years. She is the bread to your butter. I hope that bond is as strong as ever. Have you fought for it? It is worth every sacrifice.
Do you remember that it hurt to stare at your children because you loved them so much? Is it still painful to see them grow up? Do you remember how scary it was when you woke up to three offspring in your bed only to realize you had given birth to each of them in a time-period that seemed frighteningly close to your teenage years? I hope you remember that even though you messed up every other moment in these precious years, that you also cherished them. Oh how you loved them when you remembered to. You woke up each day with the resolve to make their world a beautiful place: safe, loving, exciting, fun, interesting, and stable. You taught them everything you knew about right and wrong, about God, about love, about choices, even though at times you weren't so sure of those things yourself.
I hope you remember what your days have been filled with over the last 6 years. Hard stuff like tantrums, destructive habits, messes, tempers, accidents, crying, apologies, and much more. But mostly, wonderful stuff like picnics, late mornings reading in bed, play days, discoveries, hugs & kisses, exploring, reading about the world, cuddling, dancing, making things, laughing, working outside and in, learning, parks & walks, friends & food, vacations, outings, new experiences and milestones... I realize these precious moments are a daily occurrence and I am learning how to keep them safe in me forever. Everyday I get a little better at appreciating the little things that make life grand and better locking them away to fill my tank. Do you still feel that tug? I hope so. I hope that means you remember.
Another reminder: please slow down. Don't kill yourself trying to finish things that don't really matter. They seem like they matter because I'm sick of maintaining, maintaining, maintaining and want to see results. But goals are not commandments; you won't break in half if you set them aside for a while. Have you triple-checked your priorities? Prayed? Studied? Learned to lean on Him that can heal all confusion, sorrow, pain? Looked to Him when blessing pour out like a mid-summer monsoon? Can you currently give up your handful of to-do's and rock your grand-babies to sleep on the porch? I hope you've learned that by now. Your children may have their own children but I have babies right now. Did you hold them while they still let you? Did you try and understand what they might be feeling and show them love instead of drilling a rule into their brain? Did you stop to listen, touch, smell, look, hear, and feel what you were both experiencing? Did tell them how your insides felt like bursting because loving them was so much fun? I already miss it and I'm in it.
You've been through countless ups and downs, most of which are unknown to me now. Don't worry, I'll be upon them shortly. Will I ever learn grace under fire? It's crazy to think that I may not even recognize you if I saw you on the street. I almost hope I wouldn't. What have you learned by now? What were the hardest things? Don't answer that yet. What have you loved the most? What and who has changed? If I made a list now of things to work on, would they all be different by now? It will all be over before I know it and since that's one thing I can't change, I'm learning to accept it. What would be your advice for me now?
I pray to have the wisdom today so you can say you wouldn't have changed a thing. Don't expect perfection but I promise to put my best foot forward. I'll meet you there soon.
God is so good.
