crazy!

this is just about the best Annie face that there is. I heart her.

a few pics from the week...

two little girls.

two very different personalities.

a hard week.

so frustrating to be one.

but I can stand! and walk. and be grown up, mom.

have a good week!

catholic

I am good tired.

Friday, I sat in our Good Friday service with a heart I scarcely recognized. It was engaged.

Friday afternoon, I drove to our church, and stood in a line for my first confession. Confession is available at any time during the year, but it is common practice for Catholics to go to confession on Good Friday.

I have been pretty comfortable for awhile admitting that I was pretty much a mess- but this is a different thing than sitting in front of a priest, and saying, I'm a mess, and I hurt others (and myself) because of it.

I was nervous, but when I entered the confessional. (It was a small room with a lamp, and I sat across Father J, face to face), I felt deeply at peace.

I can only express my experience as tender. I have never really felt God's love for me in such a tender way, ever, in my whole life. I am not exaggerating.  I did not feel beat up, judged, ashamed- but loved. When I left, Father J. took my hand and said, "you are a good person, Brooke".

I wanted to weep.

Jesus loves us. He LOVES us. And he used a priest, in a confessional to show me.

I think it was feeling that love, that tenderness, that made Good Friday so breathtakingly meaningful for me.

In light of that love. Good Friday can only make one weep. and adore.

In the Catholic church, we venerate the cross on Good Friday. One by one, we walk down, kneel, and kiss the cross. There are old lady's who get on their hands and knees and kiss the cross at the very bottom.

I have no words for that.

Last night, Josh and I were received into full communion in the Catholic Church. I never thought this would be our story.

Sometimes a light surprises the Christian while he sings;

It is the Lord, who rises with healing in His wings:

When comforts are declining, He grants the soul again A season of clear shining, to cheer it after rain.

William Cowper


I am thankful to be in a season of clear shining, and after almost 4 years of wandering, to have found a home.

the day after

the day after I work all night is always somewhat of a blur of discontent. My head hurts. I feel fuzzy.

I wonder how to make the day pass with my kids.

sure enough. the naps always tank on these days.

Luckily it was a crisp Spring day, like for real Spring, not "sprummer", like we've been having. I've had the doors open all day, letting all kinds of creep crawlies in the house, but I'm in a place in my life where I can live with that.

I've been heavy in my thoughts, too.

Seeing so many friends the past few weeks, looking over my past.

Thinking about my first confession. yeah, I still have to do that by this Friday.

I have always hung my hat on not being the rebellious type, but this year, God is showing me that my rebellion, though not in the form of booze or grand theft- is actually more frightening and disturbing. That rebellion of my own heart.

my own longing to be in charge of the dance. to be my own choreographer.

I have been thinking about words, how I love them, and how they are the source of my own rebellion as well.

The way I speak, in anger. in jealousy. in comparison. In deep wells of insecurity.

I have miles to go.

with God's help.

Lord, have mercy.