Dear Darcie & Banks,
Happy new year, baby girls.
And boy, aren't we happy to have made it through this one.
What a wild, whirlwind, keep-you-guessing, leave-you-breathless year 2020 proved to be. You'll read so much about it in your history books, but I want you to know from my heart to yours: this year was truly a gift to live because nearly every waking moment was spent with you. Every. waking. moment.
I won't lie and say there weren't rough spots. Moments where your dad's and my emotional, physical, mental strength reserve tanks were running on near empty. Moments where we cried over what we saw on the news or sat up late into the night talking about what in the world was happening in our world. Moments where we had to let go of things we hold dear or throw our hands in the air at a loss for how to get through. Feeling stuck, even frozen in time, which resulted in bickering and debating and challenging and making up and saying sorry. I remember moments of saying no to worry and yes to trusting God. And then moments where the stillness seemed to swallow us.
Yes. The price of this pandemic has taken its toll on everyone. Everyone has felt its effects and navigated its damage. Everyone has had to process and grieve in their own way.
But somewhere in the middle, specifically in mid-April as the flowers bloomed and spring brought fresh life, I was reminded to be gentle with myself even in the struggle. Because growth is there. And when you power through with grit, you get to see the growth. So I resolved to stop resisting stillness. Stop fighting the gift of slowing, listening, and learning. Loosening my grip meant readjusting goals, plans, trips, birthdays, and my overall outlook on life.
But my pandemic practice took form and eventually became my mantra. Pause, ponder, & pray. So much was uncertain this year, but there were certain GIFTS in the midst of it all and certainly a God above it all. Open ears and heart. Stop and savor the present. Lean into emotions. And make prayer my go-to, not my last resort. I started praying more over your lives. Over your dad. Over our family and friends and friends of friends. Over our next steps and business plans and dreams and finances. I started believing for provision and favor. I started the shift in my perspective. Pause. Ponder. Pray.
In January of 2020, one year ago, I decided to start a gratitude journal. I had no idea what was coming. Or to what extent my gratitude would be tested. It was a bit of a whim. I wanted to get back to writing things down, but I knew I couldn't consistently keep up with anything too commitment heavy. And while I used to keep journals, I haven't in years. But I felt a nudge to be acutely aware of my abundance going into 2020. To write down the gifts and help center myself in the ebbs and flows of life. And of course, now I know why.
One year later. I've learned to count my blessings instead of counting my losses. I enjoy adding up gifts instead of adding up risks. I continually purpose to choose prayer instead of panic. And I focus on delighting in the little things within my home instead of dreading the big things out there in the world.
The best beauty exists and is encapsulated within our little home. Home became everything. And you, Darcie and Banks, were everything to us. There was quiet in the world. All kinds of delicious quiet.
And quiet became our friend. Stillness our everyday rhythm. Patience became our practice. Contentment became our joy. Your amazing dad helped me get through. I leaned on him at the end (and during every waking moment, let's be honest) of my every day. On days when I felt down, he had that extra pep in his step to make another day another adventure with you girls. He and I became a team. We worked together and picked up the slack for one another. We learned how to co-parent two little toddlers. And we made it.
Along the way, we also saw how amazing our little toddlers actually are.
You were our perpetual bright spot. Our shining light. The glue that stuck us all together. Your smiles when we needed them, bouncy personalities that snapped us from the couch into dance parties, and eager eyes full of unconditional love. You didn't let the wear & tear of 2020 wear you down. In fact, you were oblivious to the weight of this year and instead, helped us as mom & dad weather it with grace. Because we had you. You were resilient, optimistic, and flexible. The world asked children to do hard things this year. And I'm so proud we all made it together. I realized how much FUN we're capable of having every single day for like an entire year. The four of us. We did it.
There is peace knowing that if all material goods or comforts were stripped away, it would still be okay because my heart remains here with you. And I am happy.
And you are happy. And that's what matters.
Your tiny lives. The tiny balls of energy that constantly brought us back to laughter, wonder, tickles, routine, play, teething, and teaching one another how to fully love life -- amidst a pandemic & all.
Cheers to 2021. To a hopeful future, a new little sister, travel & parties & playgrounds & a fresh start. And yet still protecting that stillness...sacredly shared between us.
I love you,
Mama
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