Good Things

It's late and I'm staring at my computer screen as though I am looking at a blank piece of water color paper. What words can I paint for you? What image do I want to leave for you tonight?

I've had all sorts of thoughts swirling around in my head...but life is busy and messy, so I haven't had the time (ok, fine, I haven't made the time) to sit and write out any of them.

I have made time for my art. I have worked every day to be a little better, do a little more. The efforts of that work are currently up at Happy Creek Coffee and Tea, where some of my favorite pieces are up and for sale. I have sold two paintings that I know of. I am humbled and excited and in awe of this. I am an Artist. It has taken me 27 years to truly believe that in my heart. It gives me so much hope for my future.

My three year old calls me an artist. She pulls her chair up to my desk and says "Mama can I work with you?" She loves to paint too. She still doesn't remember purple is purple and mostly wants to use pink or blue. She mashes my paint brushes and she gets very intense. I love everything about creating with her. My son likes to take my paint brushes and "pretends" to paint the walls. Sometimes he finds crayons and colors on the walls...I am in a constant state of fear of what he will do with his colors. Magic erasers give me life fam. (That was ironic millennial talk for I seriously love those things).

I have been supported from the get go by an amazing husband. Who has put with so many Micheals runs that it's ridiculous. He also knows that many of the packages we get/got from Amazon are more than likely more supplies that I want to check out. I stay up late and get distracted all to often by what I'm working on. He comes and peeks at what I'm doing and says "Please come to bed by 10:30"...and I try, I really do. But it doesn't always happen that way.

He has been such a source of encouragement. He has a good eye too, he can look at a piece I'm working on and he can tell me "I don't think this one is quite there yet" and he's usually right. I have an artists heart. And he loves every inch of my messy, distracted, paint stained hands.

I have made time for playing in the floor with my babies. We roll and laugh and giggle and smile. My son walks now. He walks. And he is learning more and more how to communicate with me. He tries to run now...he will throw his arms up and shuffle his feet across the floor. He loves necklaces and almost all his teeth are in, but I can't be sure because he doesn't like me to look.

Every now and again I'm reminded that we aren't done with all his medical care. When people ask me when his third surgery is (I don't know, and I don't mind being asked!) or when he gets cold and his hands and feet turn blue. When we go to the pediatricians office and simple, small procedures throw him into hysterics. The last time that happened we got home and I had a panic attack. I had to call my mom, her voice reminding me that right NOW my children are healthy and safe and here.

I read stories of toddlers who are going through the Fontain. Anxiety and PICU stays and effusions. I have heard stories of families who have had to transfer to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia and I am comforted knowing we have close family near there. I read stories about week long stays, month long stays, and complications that lead to heart transplants. I worry that I'm not checking his O2 levels enough but then I think, would that help me or cause me to worry even more?

Either way, it's a long way off. So I have my moments, then I usually hear Dean screaming at Ellie because she took something from him and I move on.

These are small snippets of what make up my life. My messy hard wonderful life. A life that I live as well as I can, rooted in the love I have from the Lord, His strength keeping me going. His Joy on the days when I desperately want a nap or when I look at the pile of dishes that I just don't want to do. Remembering who I am in Him has helped me let go of all the other things that used to make me feel guilty.

And I am making time. Stealing moments. Writing when I can, painting pictures with my hands and hopefully my words to let you know there are good things about this world. I know because I look for them. You should too.