1. When I paint sunflowers and my own greying 🌻

Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever.

1 Chronicles 16:34

27/07/17

Tomorrow we would have sat on our front porch again. The one that my darling and I we built up from the ground in those earthy colors that remind us that anything can grow in the right conditions. And we managed to. Grow that is. Old, in faith, in love, and tomorrow we will be riper. And so will our children; I pray that they see tomorrow. And we would have sat there, watching the wind and listening to each other as we always have and I will be reminded of those short moments that have led to this lifetime and I would have thanked God, again, again.

On some days, I would be worried that our children won’t get the chance to develop the wisdom lines that form by the corner of my darling’s eyes whenever I got him chuckling, and my own get dewy when I start worrying like this. But my darling he told me that we raised them vulnerable enough to let God transform them and strengthen them and my heart settles again. I think that’s why I chose to love him, he always makes my faith feel new and child-like again even after I’ve lost count of the days that we’ve sat under this sun, letting it feed us into our majesty.

People forget it sometimes. Not our founding descendance, though they forget that too. No, I mean they forget that we are human. That we hurt when we lose a brother, that we revolt when enough is enough. They forget our joy too. Or resent it. But I have stopped settling for apologism a long time ago. I was taught that it was redundant and that is what I try to teach all the children that step onto my porch. How would I have built it up, my peace of mind, if I had kept apologizing for it? And from the day I started minding my own shea and coconut oil, man have I grown stronger. Healthier. Fierce, because I have refused to let this learned shame be my unbecoming.

So I have joy, not that ever elusive happiness, the difference is God.

And I like sitting here with my darling thinking about what we’ve been through together, and I feel proud when I look out to the sunflower fields we tended to for decades, where my baby girls and boys ran through as toddlers. I get overwhelmed with nostalgia sometimes when we reminisce about those youthful nights. Me loud and revolutionary. Him pensive. And also revolutionary. Those nights where we laughed and made love and spoke about the supernatural until I inevitably fell asleep on his heart. And my own heart is warmed, warmed like the yellow of the sunflowers and the honeyed milk that smooths his voice when I think that he has kept me in his heart for all these years.

And today as we sit here I thank God for the blessings and the moments and this lifetime. And I thank God for my darling, and for my children.

And I thank God for me and for today.

Again, again. 

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