…the way he laughs, all gut and soul and baby glee
…the way he expresses his honest feelings, in launching his yogurt cup or rock or firetruck
…the way he gets so excited his feet can’t stay on the ground and his fists have to hit… something… his toothless grin from ear to ear revealing his joy
…the strength surging through his soul, the pure raw man-ness that does not back down, clothed in child body.
…the vulnerable expression her lips take on when she is about to do something yet to be done by her
…the ability to physically demonstrate any point she makes in words, her passion and flair.
…your driven strength to take a beating and respond with appreciation, respect and loyalty
…your gentle, kind-hearted grace, like an air-pocket under the frozen surface of a lake, except totally accessible… the safe place in dark times.
In the midst of this world of frustrations, lateness, ugly anger and sinful stubbornness, I choose to see your lovely things. I choose to see the streaks of shimmering treasure being chiseled loose from the ordinary, the desolate, the devastating… I choose to receive all your parts as perfect gifts in my own process of being chiseled free. I love you for all that you are today.