Archive for January, 2017

Dear Rainee Mae,

I wonder what your first memories of me will be.  Hugs and books?  Nighttime words lulling you to sleep and tender face strokes?  Singing by the piano?  Laughing outside?

As you begin to piece together a picture of the world around you, you’ll piece together a picture of your momma.  But remember, dear girl:

Before your momma was this:img_4185

Before she was a momma, she was this:


But before she was a wife, a lover, a homemaker, she was this:


A girl who sat on her porch deep into the night, trying to put words to music.


A girl who felt incredibly lost at times, amidst betrayal, mistakes, heartache.  A girl who hid pain too frequently.  A girl who fell into depression and bad habits.


A girl who clung desperately to Truth, fell on her face in the middle of the night in prayer, studied hard to find hope.


A girl who woke with panic attacks and suffered with insomnia over issues she couldn’t quite sort out in her head.


A girl who loved and was loved.  Who snuck into the woods at 2 in the morning to talk out loud to a good God.  Who wrote, composed, expressed in any way possible.


A girl who was foolish and wise often.


As I reread the journals I wrote, I continue to see the jottings I left behind for you.  How I hope they resound in your heart when you feel alone.  My deepest prayer is that you know the hope of our God who loves you more than you could possibly imagine, that you are spared many of the bumps in the road your mother has seen, but if you face them that you let me cry with you, love you, and walk beside you, never putting me on a pedestal, but seeing me as a progress of grace.


This girl looks at the look in that past girl’s eyes and it feels so alien.  Because the Lord brings you so far.  The Lord grows you so deeply.  The Lord shapes you continually.

This thing called life is a messy, disastrous blessing.  Praying for your years even now.


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