New Life

I hold her baby.

A beautiful bundle of sweetness.

 I look at this girl.

This beautiful mom. 

I think how blessed I am. 

I am the step mom. 

A woman she did not ask for in her life. 

Circumstances beyond her control. 

Yet, she has opened her heart and let me in. 

She has shared so much of who she is with me. 

She's daddy's girl you know. 

And another stole her heart.  

And now I hold her second born. 

I want to weep. 

I want to weep for my boy. 

I want to weep for all that will not be. 

And all that will be. 

The pace of life travelling on. 

Moving. 

Ebbing. 

It's hard to catch your breath sometimes. 

You want to stay in the here and now. 

Press on. 

Move forward. 

Yet the tension remains of leaving behind part of your heart;

 part of who you are. 

I hold the newest child. 

Evie Ann Brittain. 

She joins big sister, Lilah Rose Brittain

Who, only the other day, seemed to be the baby. 

The future. 

Hope. 

Isaiah 43:19

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; 

do you not perceive it? 

I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

Each day is a risk. 

We choose to love and live. 

We choose joy. 

We are not guaranteed anything. 

Moments lived to make minutes; which become a lifetime. 

All held in the Father's hand. 

So I breathe in the scent of baby. 

I close my eyes. 

Here is the next generation. 

The oldest Farm girl will pass down the stories 

and all that farm life encompasses. 

She will nurture the hope that comes. 

We will share about her Uncle. 

Uncle Elijah. 

We will share his love for his Creator. 

My farmer and I will watch. 

We will guide when asked. 

We will marvel. 

We will give praise for new life.

Remembering

We stand at the grave. 

This college friend and I. 

Last together when life didn't hold so many painful pieces.

Back when life was still fresh and young. 

This day we stand at the grave of my oldest son. 

"Tell me about Elijah, " she says. 

My eyes fill with tears. 

It's been months since I have let myself think of him. 

Months since I have paused to remember. 

Because in the remembering the searing ache lies. 

The sharp pain of who he was and will never be. 

The kind and caring, yet hot tempered red head. 

So handsome. 

So bent on being right. 

Blue, blue eyes. 

Perfect teeth from suffering through surgeries and braces. 

Smooth, pink skin. 

My son. 

Not all remembering brings pain. 

God was intent on us remembering. 

He wanted us to remember to not fear; 

Isaiah 41:10

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Today is a day to remember a covenant made. 

A day our family celebrated and treasured. 

It is our oldest daughters 3rd Anniversary. 

The day she and her husband promised to love and cherish 

until death do they part. 

A commitment they don't take lightly. 

Each working to strive to help and serve the other. 

My farmer and I watch with tenderness as the husband of this stubborn farm girl chooses patience and understanding. 

We watch as this team encourages our precious grand daughter. 

We step into grace as we expect another grandchild in March. 

This day we remember; 

the covenant made. 

The joy of the day. 

Because in remembering we grow. 

In remembering we remain steadfast. 

Deuteronomy 32:7

Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past. Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders, and they will explain to you.

Happy 3rd Anniversary to our Oldest Farm girl 

and the only man my farmer would hand her off to. 

May you continue to love and respect each other. 

May you seek romance and choose joy. 

May you continually bring our farmette home to visit. 

Alan Jackson 

Remember When