Riding the Potter's wheel.

I've been going through old pictures and journals and mementos (moving and packing has forced the project) and I'm just astounded at several things:

1. I was such an idiot. I hope I'm less of one now.

Actually, I guess that first one just kind of sums it up. Through all the challenges I've faced, and the ones I'm facing now, I can hardly believe how much I've changed and how many lessons I've learned. 

When I was 15 it was such a big deal to me fit into tiny jeans. Now it's still important (to eventually get back into tiny jeans, I mean) but it's not how I define myself. When I was 15 it was.

When I was 17 I was quick to judge people for the choices I watched them make. Now I spend mental energy hoping they are happy, and I love them just as much - sometimes more - because of the choices I don't agree with.

When I was 21 I was the careless steward of a heart that had been given to me. Now my behavior reflects a deep reverence for the feelings, hopes, and well-being of others.

When I was 23 I didn't understand how people could not have any desire to pray or learn about God. Now I do.

When I was 25 I thought my life was over. Now I realize I was just selfish.

When I was 27 I had a crisis of faith. Now I have mended and even improved my relationship with my God.

When I was 29 I retreated from the world and hid inside a deep dark depression, and I hated myself for it. Now I forgive myself more easily, and I applaud the depressed wife and mother of two I was for not giving up when she really, really wanted to.

I'm almost 31 now. I give up too easily on my goals, I yell at my kids sometimes, and I don't always use my time wisely. But I've learned things about faith and hope I never even knew I didn't know. I have every confidence that if I can just manage to stay on the Potter's wheel, the Lord will teach me and help me become a lovely, sweet, holy woman. And looking back at the different stages of my life I see He has already made a lot of progress with me.

I'm happy about that.

Carnival Tonight

Today we took you girls to the carnival in town. We'd watched them setting up the rides for a week and you were so excited to go ride them all. I was so excited to take you.

When we got there, I pushed Evie in the stroller, Belle was up on Daddy's shoulders and Chiara led the way to the entrance. We saw the ticket booth and went to buy some. We had $20 to spend and thought you girls would get to go on all the rides you'd wanted to. We saw the sign, $3.75 per ticket. There was also a little red line showing the height requirements for the rides. Our petite Noelle was too short. My heart sank for you girls. I think I was even more disappointed than Chiara.

So Daddy bought one ticket for Chiara to ride the dragon roller coaster she'd been talking about for so many days. I held a sobbing, heartbroken Noelle as we all watched Chiara go on the ride by herself. The delighted expression on her face as the roller coaster whipped her around the track was priceless to us. Daddy and I exchanged a look over Belle's head ... We would have done anything to see our Chiara so happy. Every time she passed us we whooped and hollered and she waved, always with that giant smile on her face.

When the ride was over we shuttled you all to the green van. You didn't understand why you couldn't go on more rides. Daddy and I had thought we could afford a whole afternoon of fun ... we were so sorry.

So we took you to the park. We walked around the paths and pushed you in the swings. It was a beautiful, lovely day. Noelle wanted to pick every wild daisy she could see and Chiara was so excited to stand on the bridge and throw a penny in the stream. Eve chatted all the way from her little spot in the stroller, but we took her out to swing with her sisters. Nothing could have been more darling than the three of you all swinging together. Noelle wanted to push Evie higher, and we laughed as we told her babies can't go as fast or high as big girls.

By the time we got home we were all tired from all the running, playing, and sunshine. So Daddy studied while all the girls (including me) took a little nap. It was a perfect day.

Day One ... Again

The thing is, I'm a horrible perfectionist. It's agonizing, really. I can sit and stare at what I want to do, paralyzed with fear to start because I don't want it to be awful. And if my past is any sign of my future (thank you, John Mayer) it probably will be. At least the first time.

But the thing is, the quicker I get the first time over and done with, the quicker I can just move on and get on with everything. So that's what I'm going to try to do. For the first time. And probably not the last.

Tonight I tucked Evie into bed the way she likes, with her little muslin blanket with the elephants on it right up against her face. It's a hazard, I think, but after many sleepless nights I've concluded that she's rather good at keeping it from smothering her. She fell asleep first in my arms, then as I put her in her little bassinet she woke up a little, smiled at me, and closed her eyes again. I'll be sad when she grows out of that.

I could type all kinds of hyperbole but nothing would do. She is simply exactly what I need her to be. 

 

I love you, Evie Heart.