dad aka hero

Many people know my dad. Lord knows, we can't run into Target or Martin's without someone waving him down to talk, and we can't go to a restaurant without the owner saying a quick hello. He walks away from each person with a huge grin on his face and explains with confidence, "that was my friend; I have them everywhere."

So yes, many people know my dad, but not near as many people know the man that I know, the man underneath the friendly conversations in the frozen food section or the order of a medium-rare steak with potatoes.

But there is so much more to him.

At the dinner table, he is always the one who goes around the table and says, "tell me about your day."

He gives us advice about our jobs, school, and friends.

No matter how busy he gets, he never fails to schedule dates with my mom.

He stays up way past his bedtime to add animation effects to his high school daughter's powerpoint presentation -- even despite her telling him it's not necessary.

He gets emotional over every single father's day card. You would think after 22 years of being a dad, he would keep in under control.

He gets his hair cut for free, but (despite his hairdresser telling him not to) he leaves a $20 bill every time he's finished - which is more than the price of a men's cut.

At every single one of my high school choir concerts, he would sneak into the auditorium at least an hour early to save seats for the fam. It would always be near the front, and he would always cheer very loudly.

He will never, ever forget to tell you how much he loves you.

On election day, he rearranges his schedule to fit mine and B's so that he can go vote with his girls.

He is passionate about God and people. Which effectively sums up his profession.

He has been offered, three times, to work at the national office in Springfield, MO as the national church planting director. He has turned it down every single time because he loves his church in little Williamsburg, VA.

He takes us on "daddy dates" on our birthdays.

He willingly lets us borrow money from him if we're ever in a pinch...and doesn't charge interest!

He mentors the son of close friend who passed away a couple months ago. Once a week, he invests in this young man who is trying to fulfill his father's legacy.

He surprises my mom by completely re-landscaping the yard when she goes out of town.

He has mastered living with four teenage daughters with a listening ear, kind words, many outfit appraisals, patience through the drama, and sympathy toward hormones.

He always gives second chances, and encourages us to do the same.

He makes the best nachos and the best waffles...but besides that, pretty much stays out of the kitchen.

He diligently throws the football, runs routes, and catches passes with my 15-year-old brother every chance he gets...soley because my brother dreams of being a quarterback and my dad knows it's his job to help him get there.

He prays. A lot. And he reads his Bible. Every night.

There is a saying, "it is much easier to become a father than to be one"

...becoming a father is natural, simple, and merely opens the door to the opportunity. But being a father - being a father requires one to handle that overwhelming challenge with grace, patience, and wisdom. Being a dad is being a hero. My dad has truly been a dad.

- d

ben rothwell

since I am quite fond of my boyfriend, and since I am aching to display some of my favorite parts about him, I am going to give a little "virtual tour," so to speak, of benjamin aaron rothwell.

things I love about b:

1) his unbelievable passion for worship and his ability to lead hearts through music.

2) the way he loves my sisters.

3) his eyes. oh yes, those dark eyes. clearly, they run in his family.

4) how cute he was when he was a little boy.

5) his knack for cooking always tastes good.

6) no one has ever looked so good in sunglasses.

7) he eats chipotle burritos with such urgency and satisfaction.

8) his horrendous facial expressions.

9) we like the same food, made the same way.

10) where he's come from and the journey he's traveled to be the man that he is today.

11) the way he looks at me -- that lingering gaze that displays even the corners of his heart.

12) his droid phone (no really, I love it) and his constant cup of coffee.

13) the way he makes me laugh -- so hard, so often.

14) he read twilight...and liked it.

15) he whistles whenever he's in a good mood.

16) the way he interacts with children.

17) he sings to/with me.

love has a name

"For the girl dressed in white, for the man who's lost his sight

When life's the question, love's the answer

For the poor nameless child, for lovers unreconciled

When life's the question, love's the answer

For a world lost in pain, know that love has a name

When life's the question, Jesus answers

with his love

Always waits, never lies, no disguise

...the love of Jesus"

introducing: aunt dedi

Even at four years old, I still had trouble talking. My older sister, Taylor-Lynn, was my faithful translator. If you were to meet me and ask me my name, I would gladly and confidently respond with, "dedi modo."

Two years ago, my mom had a baby. Unplanned. Number 10. I was 18 years old and graduating high school. I instantly fell in love with Anderson and prided myself on taking care of him. A couple months ago, he learned to say my name. "Dedi."

Now, I am an aunt. The AUNT of Gabriel Alexander Louis, born May 28th, 2010. My brother-in-law, Drew, has fittingly titled me "aunt dedi."

I am currently in Dallas, Texas, staying in the will-be nursery at Taylor and Drew's little house. The room is already decorated with little wooden "g's" that are standing up on his dark oak armoire. The closet is full of little infant onesies. The bathroom is complete with baby soap, baby washcloths, and baby powder.

The surroundings remind me of my new role and all the associated feelings:

I am proud - proud of my sister who endured 15 hours of labor, and who gave birth to gabriel naturally.

I am impressed - impressed that the girl who cried at bee stings and spankings could go through that excruciating pain for someone so small, yet so significant.

I am content - content watching drew's large hands hold his son while bending his 6'5" frame to whisper and sooth gabriel.

I am committed - committed to spoiling and fighting for this little boy.

I am anxious - anxious to see who he will become and what great things he will accomplish.

I am happy - happy for the Louis family which is forever changed and bettered.

I am confident - confident that they will be such extraordinary and rewarding parents.

I am compelled - compelled to hold him nonstop, sing to him, stare

at him, snuggle him, etc.

I am humbled - humbled by Taylor's selflessness.

I am convinced - convinced that those 10 little fingers and 10 little toes are evidence of God's ultimate masterpiece -- life.

I am inspired - inspired to start my own family one day, and become a mommy.

I am overwhelmed - overwhelmed with love for gabriel.

I am blessed - blessed because I get to be a part of his family, blessed because he will know me one day as someone who truly adores him, blessed to witness this miracle of life, and blessed to watch the miracle continue to unfold.

Welcome to the world, Gabriel, I promise to mother you a little -- and befriend you a lot.

- dedi

his love letter to me

My dad is the best man I know. He has always, always done right by my mom, and he has always, always done right by us. To me, that in itself shows more substantial character than pretty much anything else. And although he may be the best daddy in the world, he has still taught us that there is one better still: our heavenly father. Today mark morrow did what he always does on a sunday morning: he passionately spoke to his church. He talked about why God allows suffering and how God wants to see us use our hurt and pain to make us better, not bitter. I've been reading The Father's Love Letter and learning more about the character of God and his own perspective of me, his child. I have learned that while yes, people suffer and yes, I suffer, God has claimed himself the father who comforts me throughout all my troubles.

"God wants to pick you up, give you a hug and whisper your name in your ear. You are His child and He is your father. This is your destiny; this is what you were created for. When you let Him love you in this way, as a father loves his little child, you will begin to realize that the need for love and affirmation you had as a little child is still deep within you. When you allow yourself to be embraced by God, you begin to see that this is what you've been looking for all your life. You may have searched for it in your career, in a relationship, or in many other things, but you will find it only in one place - in the arms of your heavenly Father."

Lord, I pray that you would give me the grace to become more childlike. I want to lose myself in your unfailing love. Help me to walk in the simplicity of faith that allows me to trust you wholeheartedly for all my needs.

"God is the Father of compassion and of all comfort. When you need comfort most, he is faithful to be by your side through all your pain and disappointment. He weeps with you, and his heart breaks with yours. Your heavenly Father wants to hold your hand as you walk through the seasons in your life. You were never meant to shoulder these burdens on your own. God wants to comfort you with his tender love."

Lord, please heal, restore, and give favor. Thank you for staying true to all your promises -- promises to remain faithful, to hold me, to comfort me, and to love me. And the promise that you are my father. And I am your child.

I love you.

-d

"all that I'm after is a life full of laughter - as long as I'm laughin' with you"

Last weekend me and b.rothwell packed up and went driving. Our first stop was baltimore, maryland where we navigated (via ben's droid phone) to a tiny, quaint bar/venue for a miraculous dave barnes show. After sitting on bar stools and soaking in the musical goodness for three hours (and then meeting him!) we then continued our journey to pheonixville, pennsylvania for ben's best friend's college graduation.

here are some of my most favorite parts:

1. our competition.

2. our 'road trip' playlist...with all the good stuff.

3. all our pee stops where ben would visit the bathroom and I would wait in the car. (maybe I should be concerned that I don't pee enough?)

4. being thrifty by packing homemade sub sandwiches for the drive.

5. "I Have And Always Will" on the acoustic guitar embraced by the crowd's absolute stillness. Even the asians behind us stopped jabbering over their drinks long enough to witness the beauty, emotion, and delivery of this song.

6. Dave's obvious passion as he used about 10 minutes of his set to talk about the mocha club.

7. Steve moak's cover of miley cyrus mixed with don mclean.

8. Ben's constant attempts at earning "sweetie" stars...and his unwillingness to relinquish any stars to his poor girlfriend. Even when I begged, he would shrug and say, 'it's competition, baby'....a true testament to our relationship.

9. visiting "love park" in Philadelphia.

10. having ben wake me up each morning.

11. bringing books, magazines, etc. to pass the time in the car, but instead being content just to put the seat back, listen to music, and hold my boyfriend's hand.

12. chipotle pitstop, causing the GPS to redirect us using the scenic route. (only good things come from eating chipotle).

13. my new floral sundress and white coat -- compliments of the boyfriend.

14. antique jewelry shopping in the cute little downtown area.

15. learning an intense (yet entertaining/addicting) card game...and beating ben. :)

everything is beautiful

cotton fields,

the open road

the radio plays a song

we both know we don't sing along

- dave barnes

A few words on words

I spent today putting together a "quote book" for Talitha Adele's 21st birthday. I integrated and incorporated several (and I mean several) of my collected quotations. Excerpts from literature, lyrics from songs, bible verses, statements from musicians, philosophers, authors, my favorite tv show. It could be endless.

As I sat there flipping through the pages, I understood the purpose for this compilation. I realized the enormity of the mere words. I realized the impact in which they are capable. These chosen words...these words are for the loved, the unloved, the broken, the faithful, the faithless, the stumblers, the seekers, the hopeful, and the hopeless, the weak, the strong, the beautiful and the believers.

If these words could but touch the soul of someone who fits one of those descriptions (and truthfully we all have at some point), then these words have succeeded.

Words matter.

-d

"a happy family is but an earlier heaven"

It began with make-your-own-burritos for dinner, four 2-liter bottles of soda (only because it was a special occasion), everyone around the big table, and way too much conversation to follow.

Next it's rock 'n roll blaring and 7 Morrow kids dancing. After dinner, mom goes to clean up and Nicholas (the DJ) starts the music. Alexander immediately whips out the electric air guitar and with that, the dance-a-thon is inevitable. B and I get Anderson (2 years old) involved with head banging and spinning in circles. With a grin plastered across his adorable chunky cheeks, he dances nonstop for 20 minutes. In baby code, this is a long, long time.

We decide to go get ice cream. But within the time it takes for us to get out the door and loaded into the van, all the ice cream places have closed. Instead we opt for the grocery store where we buy the ice cream, waffle cones, and sundae toppings. We set it all up along the counter and it's buffet style -- all you can eat. We realize it truly is much better that way.

After the parents and the children 10 & under go to bed, we pick a movie (which is always an ordeal). Thankfully, my brothers can appreciate a good chick flick -- in fact, they love them. The girls multi-task and do manicures at the table, while Landon and Nicholas watch Zac Efron.

Yes, it was family night at the Morrow house tonight.

ps. we miss you, Taylor.

worship: reverent love and devotion

"...that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever."

- Psalms 30:12

Worship is my passion. Worship is my calling. Worship is what God desires from me and is, amazingly, something that I am capable of giving to Him.

As I was contemplating this today, I realized a few things:

Music is much, much more than what I have always believed it to be. Music is not just the sounds that delve deep into our souls, that strike a chord within us and make us believe in something. Its purpose is more than just leaving you speechless from a 3 minute song that figuratively washes over your body, soaking it with magic and hope. Music should never be confined to our stereos or ipods. And it should never, ever be confined to the feelings we get from listening to a mixture of instruments. The point is: music is not meant to solely be received from talented bands or known names. Music can - and should - be given back to God. He is the maker of music. He is the one who gave us music. If he is the designer, don't you think he longs to hear your creations?

My boyfriend has mastered this. He writes such beautiful songs -- songs from the deepest parts of his heart, songs that he dedicates entirely to his Lord. I sometimes wonder where his lyrics come from. I wonder how he conjures up those perfectly poetic lines that allow his music to remain personal while still proving relevant. I recently told him how much I love his words...but more than that, I love how he uses his words. He is so careful and meticulous and precise with the words he chooses as praise to God. It's so evident that Ben strives to present the most worthy and pure worship. My heart swells and oozes with happiness because I have found a man who lives for the full purpose of music. He expresses his love and passion through worship, through music, through song, through words sung unto God. I love the words he gives Jesus. They are precious and humble.

Today, I am thankful for the reminder that worship is our reason for existing.

"hearing the music is like someone calling out to me...making music is like I'm calling out back...to the one who gave me the music" - August Rush

- d

"once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary"

I recently had a conversation with God. Well, actually, it was pretty one-sided. I made him listen as I vented about my biggest fear: being average. Alone in my room, somewhere around 1 am, probably some really good music playing, it went something like this:

Dear God, I want to be someone to somebody. I want to make a difference. I want to be remembered. I want to accomplish something great. I want to make my mark on this world, to better it, to contribute to it. I want to live a full life -- with big and small moments. And I want a way to remember it all. I want to stop forlornly gazing at my dreams stored away on a dusty shelf. I want them active, alive. I want a story to tell; I want people to read my story; I want it to be worth reading. I want to give of myself and to somehow help others, even while I don't have much to offer. I want a pure heart and a sound mind. I want to create; I want to empower; I want to inspire; I want to explore. And I want to know that it all mattered.

Yes, I was frustrated, and I was anxious. I needed to be put back in my place. Thank you, Edgar Allan Poe.

Edgar Allan Poe - brilliant poet, brilliant mind, brilliant literature. But Poe was an orphan...poor and aimless...a gambler, estranged from his foster father, in debt, lived off one short story to the next - and spent nearly all that money on alcohol. He died alone and was buried in an unmarked grave. His tragic and nomadic life seemed to have been lived in vain. His accomplishments were unappreciated and his talent was essentially disregarded. Considering his circumstances, could he have imagined his potential? His impact? His ability? His influence? How could he have ever known that he would become one of America's most beloved and fascinating writers? How could he have known, as he drowned his hopelessness in whiskey, that his stories would become classics, that he would be read in schools, and that critics would dissect and marvel over his written words? Despite his life of heartbreak and useless attempts at "big breaks," he eventually made it to his dream, he made a difference, he transformed literature...even if he wasn't able to witness it within his lifetime.

He lived. He died. And, somehow, he managed to leave a legacy.

I want the same thing.

I am 20 years old.

I don't need to change the world yet, I just need to live in it.

"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night" - Poe