The love that burdens us

Mom, Dad, and I were gathered in the living room while the girls washed the dishes. After a serious conversation about some solutions to some recent difficulties with the girls, Dad suggested we pray before he headed to bed. This is not at all unusual, and so I bowed my head with some resignation. Here is where we hand our cares over to God, and it is especially necessary today of all days.

You know the feeling from when you're a child, and you can't even vocalize how tired, and upset, and overwrought you are? It was in those moments that I would go to one of my parents and just lay my head on them, because they would understand. This was me tonight. Laying my head on God, hoping he would feel sorry for me. Then Daddy said, "Thank you God for the love that burdens us."

Huh?

I mentally ran that through my mind again, mouthing it at the same time. 

The love that burdens us. 

Look y'all, novels are written about love. All kinds of love. But mostly happy love. The kind that you would scale mountains and cross oceans for (to be very cliche) just to experience the euphoria it gives you.

Today I was disappointed by one of my sisters. She broke my trust, and really made me question my ability to guide her. Let's be real, I'm not experienced as a mother. I've taken over most of their training, all of their schooling, and decide much of their outside activities all by happenstance in a time of need. As my parents get older and don't like to drive, and enjoy the freedom of having grown children, it has fallen almost naturally on me. Both girls ask my permission before my parents, and the need to get this "right" is like nothing I have experienced before. The guidance of young lives is a responsibility that is indescribable. 

But today I cried in the car to Lauren Daigle's song "Trust in you" as I ate beef jerky that I'd impulse bought. I tried to analyze my feelings and decide if I was overreacting. I fought the urge to immaturely ignore her every time she spoke to me. 

True love is something we carry with us always. The love I have for these girls is a living thing. It encompasses my every interaction with them whether good or bad. The hopes I have for their futures and the kinds of people I want them to be, is all because I love them. Before them, I didn't have love like this. It's different from my other sisters in so many ways. I dissect conversations we have and question decisions I make regularly! I rejoice in their successes as if they were mine, in some ways they are! Sometimes love hurts y'all, I'm just being honest. It consumes our minds and jacks up our emotions, but I wouldn't trade it in. I just wouldn't. It never occurred to me that not just growth comes through this part of love, but joy can. The part where the love you have for someone pulls at you and causes you to do things not for the bubbly feeling it gives you, but for their good! I'm learning. I want to be able to be truly thankful for every part of love, because without the lows, the highs become mundane. I want to be able to say, "Thank You for the love that burdens us." and truly truly mean it. 

Growing a green thumb

"I am not a gardener."

"I have a black thumb." 

I've heard these words so many times, and even said them myself. I was essentially saying, "Don't have your expectations too high when it comes to me growing plant life!" One thing I've always been confident in is my seed growing ability though. It doesn't require much, you basically put some seeds in dirt, water them with a spray bottle, and watch the seedlings pop up in a couple of weeks or less. This I could do. 

Transplanted yellow squash

But something changed recently. Every year Daddy grows tomatoes, as well as a few other veggies of his choosing. It is an understood fact that I will do nothing but pick and cook the fruit of his labors; I love the fact that he gets that! This year, Daddy decided that he would plant vegetables at our rental house and in the yard of an agreeable close friend...AND that he would start selling seedling trees from our backyard. After buying the dormant little trees and planting them he realized something: he needed to connect with buyers. He immediately thought of his daughter who constantly mentions things about blogs and instagrams, and Face books online (it's really like this y'all.) The rest is history.

 I bought some organic seeds and began to plant them in egg cartons to keep them from getting hit by a late (for the south) frost, and I jumped online and started setting up ebay, paypal, craigslist, instagram, and twitter accounts. With each seedling tree I listed, I had to google all about them. In the meantime my squash plants were growing quickly, and starting to lean on their spindly little stems. I called my aunt and asked her when I should plant them and she said, "Right now!". She gave me explicit instructions about the sun and soil and depth...

Basically, I found out that it isn't about having a green thumb. It's about having the diligence and care to commit to a project until it's finished. I had a black thumb before, because it didn't benefit me to check out five books from the library about every aspect of vegetable growing and seedling health--like I currently have.

 I've grown a green thumb! You can too, but it's gonna be work! Are you ready?

See what dad has going on over on Instagram if you'd like!