Happy Father's Day, Love.

To my Lover on Father's Day-

I'm starting this letter nearly a week early because today was a hard day and I think God is okay with us receiving gifts when we need them, even if it's not on man's earthly schedule. 

Today the Enemy came rushing in and tried to instill fear, doubt and hate into our little family. He wanted us to lash out with tongues of fire and venom, drawing swords of hate to match our attacker. 

That would have given him exactly what he wanted-to see a Godly father lose at what matters most; showing his boys how to react when war rages. Yet, you react in the way that makes me fall in love with you over and over again-with grace upon grace. 

This, my love, is why you deserve to know what a great daddy you are to three precious, wild, beautiful and impressionable boys. You understand the magnitude of every action and decision on their tiny hearts because God has fathered you through the years and has handled your heart with extreme delicacy, understanding, desire and mercy. Because Christ so loved you, you are daily striving to be the best daddy that you can be to the boys-raising them with directness, but above all mercy. 

You consistently step outside of your own wants, needs, desires, dreams and agenda and claim not your own will, but God's for your boys. You handle every decision with care. You weigh every choice and outcome with diligence and prayer. You never throw the boys into the midst of an oncoming wave to save yourself, but rather you constantly sacrifice yourself to protect them, cherish them, shield them from the ugliness of the world around them. 

That's what we all want, right? We want to shield our children from the cold world for just a little while, not forever, but ...a little while? Long enough for fearless tuck-ins, park dates, picnics and innocent car conversations. 

That's what we do as parents. We hold the hand of our spouse and form a barricade around our most precious and prized possessions, protecting them from earthquakes and oncoming disasters at all costs, even if we are taken over in the process. 

Three years ago you invited me to stand alongside you to form the strongest barricade the boys will ever see. I didn't just say 'yes' to you as a husband, a partner, a best friend, but above all I said 'yes' to a father-and a hell of a good one. I said 'yes' to ball games, practices, fevers, sniffles, checking homework, home runs, dirty socks, getting splashed at the pool and boy jokes. I also said 'yes' to wage war against any power, person or principle that would try to seep into our boys' hearts, our family's home or our marriage. I vowed to fight for three souls, three minds, three hearts, harder and more intensely than I had ever fought for my own. 

So here we are, holding hands, forming a wall and fighting. 

There's a reason why armies once marched side by side-weapons up and horses high.

They were protecting often an unseen treasure, forming a fortress around the one they were to ultimately fight for and die for. They went to the front lines to protect the life that was of utmost importance. 

This is what we do, love. This is a father's love. God demonstrated the ultimate love of a father for us, the love of a mother for us. He knew we couldn't handle the huge mess, the huge battle ahead-so He went through the gates of Hell to grab the keys FOR us. He sees the ugliness and He weeps, but He is maternal and soothes us, all the while waging war for us, carrying mountains for us, destroying burdens for us. 

This is a father's love. 

This is you. 

You are the front lines for those boys. 

You are the shield.

You are the soother.

You are the wager of war in prayer. 

You are the reader of bedtime stories, the best bed tucker, peanut butter and jelly maker, kite flyer.

But-don't forget, my sweet boy, there is a Father also out fighting for you, too. He is also out carrying your mountains, destroying your burdens, on the front lines, shielding, soothing, waging war and reminding you that you need not fight battles that aren't yours. He already possesses them, along with your family, your home, Caler, Corban and Cannon. 

How amazing and cool is that? He is holding you and you are holding them-talk about a mighty fortress around our boys! 

I love you for so many reasons, for being an amazing partner, but I love you most when I watch you being a daddy. 

Grace upon Grace.

-B

Take Up Space

I wish I could tell you where it started, why it started, that there's some magical equation or scientific reasoning to it.
I can't. I'm grasping at straws here, really.

The desire to take up as little space as possible can be traced back for decades.
It hangs on your mother's face as she turns side to side in her full length mirror. It fills the racks of Target's summer swimsuit line. It comes in waves, in media, in fads.

We cross our legs, fold our arms and self-observe in our school desks, our work chairs, as we stand among our smaller friends in photographs. We hunch with our arms crossed across our bellies as we sit and turn to the side with hand forcing an hour-glass shape when posing with loved ones. We are constantly self-adjusting to take up less space. 

A survey of 2,000 women revealed that the average woman self-criticizes at least 8 times per day, the majority regarding how much space she's taking up. One in seven of those women admitted to criticizing themselves throughout the entirety of their day, reaching a number of self-criticisms they can no longer count.

I am past the stage of wanting to be the size of a small child. It's ridiculous to aim for your pubescent body and leads to a downward spiral of unhealthy habits. Yet, like many other women, I can often find myself confused as to why I desire to take up less space. Why do I self adjust? Why does the stigma of smaller equals happier even still exist when we know it to be so dangerously untrue?

I wish I could answer these questions, dear one. I wish I knew all the reasons, the histories, the solutions. I don't have it. All I have to offer is potential healing before we step full swing into the summer months. Why do I talk about body image so often, year after year? Because it's relevance never fades. Year after year sweet friends and beautiful women cover, hunch, readjust to take up less space and I'm tired of it.

It's not fair and we weren't designed to live like this. 

We weren't designed to pick the plainer one piece simply because someone else says that "your body just isn't two piece material" or that some stupid pool mom gives you the eye when your curves and glorious, glowing stretch marks block her view of her own reflection. Honey-you were designed to be confident in your body, bask in the greatest creation and buy the damn two piece.

You were not designed to take up less space, but to multiply and build a fortress. 

Make the world your fortress and conquer it with your dreams and success! As women we are constantly being told that we should be smaller in every way- our success, our goals, our dreams, our passions, our bodies, so that we might not intrude on the territory of the man.

Screw. That. 

I'm done with that and I want to be the kind of girl that takes up space! I want to be successful and not just "successful for a woman."

I want to wear the two piece and laugh with my girlfriends over a glass of wine and not think twice about how many calories are in a glass of merlot!

I want to expand my dreams all over!

I want to waste time away laughing with my children at the pool, not covering and concerning myself with the way I look, because that is such a small, insignificant, earthly and fleeting thing to expend energy on.

I want you to sport that neon bikini this summer, stay up too late with friends, grab ice cream cones with your kids or have more than one glass of wine with your girls, all while looking freaking fabulous.

That extra skin? That's just the many, glorious pizza nights with your babes while you still have them.
That curve that folds a little extra over your bikini bottom? That's just the evenings of sharing a glass of wine with your lover and best friend over bad horror movies.
Don't waste moments like that worrying about taking up less space.


Get out there and take. up. space.