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5 Minute Fridays - Belong


5 Minute Fridays - Belong


The first few years that I was married, I never felt that I belonged at my home.  It was a quaint apartment I shared with my husband, but it never truly felt like home. I honestly believe it is because we didn’t have our children there for long and I worked so there wasn’t much time that was spent there. I would go to my parents home and whenever we visited  that unspoken word of belonging was there.  That easy chair that I spent countless hours in falling asleep while my dad watched Sunday afternoon golf, worn almost out but still gliding.  Those mismatched pictures that hung on the wall commemorating beauty found in the world.  The literal kaleidoscope of color that never quite went together but was thickly applied to the walls was there.  My husband could never understand my parents sky blue ceiling and several different shades of aqua, turquoise, and that one Coos Bay teal that showed up in different areas.  All of the knick knacks and memorabilia that a family collects over a lifetime that has little meaning to anyone on the outside, but carries deep meaning and valuable memories to all its members.  All of those things were there.  When I moved with my husband to our first home, which is quite small but still ours those feelings of belonging started to grow.  We had two small girls now and as we did things to our home and attached memories throughout every corner (there aren't too many of them)  that word belong started to grow.  Its funny when you are a mom, you somehow think that all is has to be in order and goodness what will happen if the floors aren’t mopped twice this week and that door isn’t rid of all of its two year old thumb prints and nose prints? And look at all of that paint peeling on that banister?  And that soap scum battle you’re fighting and losing because you are busy playing with the kids?  And then one day you realize when you are eating dinner your little four year old says of this little home that no one would give a second glance to, “I love our house.  IT’s beautiful.”  And then you start to understand that to that child this home is beautiful just because this house is full of memories built in love.  This house is beautiful because in this house she feels she belongs.  And you the mom know now that to this little girl it will not matter if things are decorated superbly or in what fashion or style.  Or really if it is in order and neat as a pin or if its rather an exploding toy box of what she loves to be gathered up at the end of day.  All of the clutter of toys and books and the copious amounts of gadgets and trinkets found in old drawers are precious to her because she belongs here and her imagination has been grown here.  Isn’t it funny?  I go home to my parent’s home, a literal painters pallet of sea scape colors all colliding at once in that home and I feel I Belong.  Not for any reason except that here I was loved and here I will always be.  Isn’t that what I want my children to feel?  Isn’t that freeing?  Isn't it wonderful to know that in this day of HGTV and Southern Living homeplace masterpieces..that my mismatched furniture with stubborn drops of red little girl fingernail polish and splatters of acrylic paint play don't matter?  And if the toys help decorate the living room...hooray I am blessed...

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Morning

Five Minute Fridays
Morning

Morning seems sacred to me.  Having nocturnal children kind of robs me of the mornings I like to enjoy in silence and quiet thought.
For years I would get up at least two hours before anyone so I could just be by myself and be quiet.
My parents are early morning people that like to eat full breakfasts and watch the sunrise on the porch. There's something exciting about watching the day open its' eye lids with the first glints of sun playing on the horizon edge.  Pale blues and periwinkles rouse us out of pitch black and many times morning rises in strength with extravagant colors.  It signals something new.  A new twenty four hours.  A new chance. Kind of like a new little slice of life.  We are mesmerized at first at the idea of new.  It's beautiful, holy, and hopeful.
Morning breaks the night.
I love that Cat Steven's hymn Morning has Broken.  I've always thought the words were so beautiful.
Especially the last phrase, "God&…