Honey is Sweetest

Watching Frozen with the grands turned into a day of singing 'Let it go, let it go.' My movie dates happen to be two year old twins Anne Augusta and Eleanor Rose and my four year old running partner, Titus Christopher.

As we put the song on repeat throughout the day, I hear tiny two year old voices specifically Anne singing from the top of her lungs in a mumbled but identifiable 'let it go' and then just a resounding 'go'… I turn around and there she is on my coffee table in her brothers too big shoes, arms in the air singing let it go with sweet Eli In tow… This honey chuckles.

Honey is sweetest. Honey? Honey! My grandmother name, Honey. 

Being in the movement doesn’t exempt you from every aspect of it. 

My oldest son Roman in his Junior year of college, I’ll never forget the call that February, 'mom we’re pregnant.' Two of the most brilliant people I know departed college, moved home to Texas nearest my daughter-in-law‘s mom… And brought into the world my firstborn grandson, followed by the amazing delivery of twin sisters just two short years later. 

I’ll never forget my daughter-in-law‘s words as we agonized through two years of figuring out the transition from gaming college teen to my son becoming a father of three, under three at 23. She wisely said to me we did what you teach… We chose life, marriage and we’re giving this thing a whirl. And indeed they are, and doing it beautifully I might add.

When you hear the story of the miraculous and what I lovingly called 'miracle or meant to be', what I journeyed through in my pregnancy with Roman in utero, I can look over at twins singing at the top of their lungs and think miracle? Or meant to be!

To this Honey, it feels like full circle redemption. While Roman’s twin is in heaven (a child that I won’t know until I get there), Roman‘s son and twins made the miraculous taste like the sweet honey of redemption. 

Oh Lord, we thank you for double portions and we thank you for the gift of grands.