The problem with being a person of faith is that you have hope. And when your hope is met with unfulfilled expectation, when what you are believing for fades in front of your eyes...the hope is replaced with grief. A deep sense of sorrowful surprise because you truly believed in the impossible. But then something miraculous does happen. After a time the hope returns, spurred on by the tiny seed of faith left over from the dying, withered dream. And you dream again...and again. And again. Each time you think, "This is it. I can't possibly survive this pain." And you do. You not only survive, but you endure like the old oak trees with deep roots in the fertile soil. Everything changes around them, but they stand firm and immovable. And each year they feel a wearing away, an exhaustion. If they had a mind, it would be clouded. If they had a soul, it would lay dormant. They grow cold and barren. Then, like a miracle, a warmth envelops their body, their arms, their finge...
"If you want to bring forth grit in your child, first ask how much passion and perseverance you have for your own life goals." - Angela Duckwork, Grit My daughter Arya is at the stage in life where she is literally imitating everything. Her words are coming out a little clearer and she is extremely expressive. There is no doubt when she is happy and there is no mistaking when she is angry. Her temper tantrums are coming to a peak, something she never really did until this year. A couple weeks ago, I realized that her exasperated growl sounded vaguely familiar...too familiar. I immediately felt convicted to my core. What have I been inadvertently showing her about how to handle her emotions? She is Miss Independent. She wants to put on her shoes, take off her coat, feed herself and do her own hair (still don't let her do the last one). As an overprotective mommy, I am always hesitant to let go. I stand close beside her as she goes up and down the stairs, although ...