Friday, September 04, 2015

he is

he is ready. 

here I am again. always trailing behind.

learning that I will catch up and settling in with the emotions that need to run their course.

it has always been this way.
when he was done nursing. when he moved to a big boy bed.  when he started preschool. and as he started kindergarten this week. 

leaving me, an emotional heap, in his dust each time.  six years down and many more to come trying to keep up with this boy.

so thankful that life is one big adventure for him.  that he embraces the changes as they come. that he is tender with his momma as he runs ahead. that he shows me the immense beauty of parenthood as we change seasons together. 

Friday, August 28, 2015

summer, a love letter

dear summer,

you have seriously been a peach.

your bright days spent swimming and late nights filled with ice cream {seriously. so. much. ice cream.} have us completely smitten.

you have brought us so much time with each other and so much time with family and friends.

time at home and time to travel.  we have seen new places and dipped our toes in new waters.

we have celebrate weddings, birthdays and new life under your rays.

your lazy breakfasts and do-as-you please mornings have pulled us in, helpless under your spell.

hopelessly in love, we have forgotten so much of our life that used to be. what do spring, and winter and fall hold? things like hot meals are distant memories to us now. all our minds can work towards these day are the next crazy dive and whether we should have ice cream or a sno cone tonight or step out on a limba nd try that crazy sno cone/ice cream combo.

the washers know nothing of socks or underwear those are garments for another season, only towels and swim suits fill our cycles.

you have brought our boys even closer.  the memories are piling up.  hours up on hours of legos, pretend play, and reading are now logged.

we have lingered longer around tables. around pools and in bed since you've been here.

you have been so kind to us. if it would change anything we would beg and plead you not to go.  as our toes plump back from their pruned state, know that we will not forget your beauty.

we are forever yours,
the newton family

Friday, August 07, 2015


my g. you are so many things at six.

you are an incredible big brother. your brothers are your best friends and your favorite playmates. you think Evan is the cutest and love showing him new things and teaching him new {potty} words.

as much as you love them, you love your alone time too. just to play or shower in peace.

you are a voracious reader. reading anything and everything that is in front of you.

you are a lego head.

you are a great swimmer and this summer have become a great diver too.

you are not that funny when you are trying to be, but seriously funny when you aren't trying. making up your own knock, knock jokes is your thing. making them make sense is not yet your strong suit.

you are stepping up.  getting braver by the day. stretching out of your comfort zone. it is incredible to watch you mature. you've always taken the slower approach. been a fan of watching on the sidelines before jumping in.  these days you don't wait so long.

reading: magic tree house

listening: long hot summer day (and playing a mean air fiddle)

playing: lego chima

watching: wild kratts,

eating: aidells chicken and apple sausage and fro yo

watching you grow and mature is an unbelievable gift.  you are such a treasure, my boy.

Friday, July 24, 2015

I remember

my memory is not that strong.  sometimes I struggle with the fact that it can fail me so easily and so often.

but then somethings I just remember.  it comes back.  a memory so etched it feels as if I couldn't possibly forget.

today marks two years since that telling ultrasound with our Evan.  two years.  that seems hard to fathom.  yet, I remember.  I remember the heat of the day.  I remember driving alone to the next doctors appointment.  I remember the flood of information, the tears, the questions, the uncertainty.

I remember how He was faithful when I was faithless.

I remember visions of standing at a funeral surrounded by our friends and family.  I remember the words, the thoughts, the breath being sucked right out of me.  I remember the pain of it all.

but in great contrast to all of my worldly pain, I remember the Lord's tender care for me.

I remember the phone calls. the texts. the cards.  the love. the late night conversations on the couch. the unending support. the meals that showed up on the hardest days.

I remember the overwhelming outpouring of love and support by our people.  the Lord had been weaving them into our lives for decades, surely knowing they would uphold us in that season.

I remember his promise that darkness would not prevail.  the sweet phenomenon of pouring rain in the noonday sun reassuring me.

I remember all the things I thought I knew before were the only things I had left to stand on.  His promises were true.

the world looked different tomorrow.  my husband, my kids, my family and friends.  when I woke up tomorrow, it all so clearly looked like grace.

and sadly, that is something that I am likely to forget.  it's so easy to forget that it is all grace.  Lord, may I remember.