“Oh her freckles…she is so beautiful!”

I have gotten so use to people commenting on the little army of spots across the bridge of her nose and cheeks that it doesn’t phase me anymore, even when it’s a stranger.

I have watched her quiet demeanor be something that attracts attention from only the most attentive people.  She doesn’t walk in a room and command it.  She doesn’t make sure that she is the loudest voice to be heard.  She doesn’t expect to lead the group of people she is around.  She would much rather stay in the background, observing.

I have shared before in past birthday blogs on how life with a big family, being smack in the middle or having an older sister with a fatal disease has naturally stolen any chances of having the spotlight.  But I have watched in these years to see how all those things are developing her character and helping her see the world with empathy.

Dinner preparations will be at the height of chaos, with little sisters “quietly” playing at my feet with cooking utensils, my face is most likely making a frustrated scrunchy face while I attempt to carefully read the newest grainfree/dairyfree/sugarfree meal.  That is when she decides to make her entrance in the kitchen after a long day at school.  To her its finally quiet enough to garner my full attention.  Her older brother and sister have hammered their rounds at the day at mom and looked past her divided attention, so now its her turn.

What I have found if I don’t quickly change the look on my face or for goodness sake just put the preparation on hold, her response will be “oh, I can see you are busy, I will come back later”.  Yet, I am finding, rarely she does.  Rarely she comes back, eagerly telling me her day.

The last few months of my life have been immersed in a brand new way of thinking.  I have been blessed to be a new student in the soul formation academy.  It has challenged every part of my being and how I see God, but also how my soul has been shaped through my environment and more importantly, how do I get it in line with the heart of our heavenly Father.

I am thankful for the opportunity to change my thinking and acting patterns.  Kyrene Grace is definitely a benefactor.

If I can’t pause dinner, due to the countless activities we have going on every night of the week, I will come to her, I will find her in her safe tucked away space in the house, decompressing the day of people in her face nonstop.  I will sit with her and ask “ok kyre grace, what did you want to tell me about school?”.  I will sit next to her on the couch while there is loud chaos going on in the kitchen with dad and the older siblings, the littles racing down the hallway, I will gently probe her with questions that will help me understand what is going on in her mind that keeps her not always present with us.

She is always thinking.  She is always processing.  She is always watching the world around her.

Recently she sauntered up next tome, it actually made me think of the way a cat would come to their owner that finally came home after hours of being away, only to wait a good 30 mins to show affection because they didn’t want their owner to think they “needed” them.  She tucked into my side and said “momma, do you know I am a missionary?”  Eyes twinkling on a bed of freckles, smile spread across her face so that her dimples sink in farther, assurance and joy wrapping the statement she just made.

Kyrene Grace Harney, has it already woven in her soul that she has the gift and the world needs it.  She has found that she is loved and enough in the eyes of the one who knit her together in my womb and she wants everyone to feel that same way.  She told me that she tells her classmates about Jesus, that he loves them and she asks them to come to church with her.

When walmart was all out of costumes and the normal, make them ourselves wasn’t an option, she ended up coming home with a witch costume.  Without me scolding her daddy, something they all knew I was capable of doing, she walked right up to me and said “I told Jesus, I still love him the most”.  Her conviction is endearing.

I find it so amazing that the child I questioned the Lord the most with “why?” would be the child that I have heard him tell me, “don’t hold on to tightly to her, I have a big call on her life, you need to trust me”.  Interesting, right? Given the diagnosis of her sister.  Yet God in his providence is preparing me for the work that he has for her to do and my heart for letting her go and do it one day, work that is probably going to scare this momma’s heart.

Today, my little missionary turns 7.  Today she gets to go and spend it with her best friend.  We are going to have a fancy lunch at a restaurant, play at the toy store, get frojo and later open presents with her family that is always learning how to love her in ways that she needs the most, even if she fails at times to tell us how in her little 7 year old ways.

Kyrene Grace, you are 7 years old today.  Thanks for reminding me that everyone needs to be loved uniquely, that they deserve it.  Thank you for reminding me that God loves to show his glory in people that don’t fit the mold.  Thank you for loving others that the world deems unworthy, I am touched by every single teacher you have had telling me that you are partnered with the challenging kids because of your consistent patience with them.  Thank you for your sneaky smiles that always catch me off guard and turn my hard days around.

Happy birthday Gracie

There is something about when you get a chance to tell your love story…

Am I right?

Colors, outfits you wore, smells, deeply rooted feelings that may or may not make their appearance often come pouring out.

Over a recent meal shared with another couple, the chance to walk down memory lane came.  We were actively trying to get to know this couple, welcoming them to our church family and just be Richard and Sarah, nothing else, no show, just us.

Richard, in his best attempts gave his immensely short version of our story.  I couldn’t help but intrude on his memory. He was leaving out the best part.

So there I was unashamedly telling my side and sharing the details that he so quickly glossed over or failed to bring up.

You see, because of one person’s bold choice, our love story continued, even though it should have ended in August of 2004.

I was done, just done.

His childish lifestyle with his brother and their friends had reached a capacity that I no longer could tolerate.  They were more interested in planning their classes, lives, work schedules and weekends around things that were leading nowhere.  

I on the other hand was faced with the alarming reality that nursing school was not going to be part of my story (the lowest GPA they accepted the year I applied was a 4.0).  I was sitting at a 3.8 and had no hope of pursuing a calling I thought was my destiny.

Failure, defeat, dreams crushed and a relationship that seemed to be going nowhere led me to make a uncharacteristic choice.  I decided to leave the small private school I was attending, near my boyfriend and move far away, to a place where the sun shined everyday.  In the deepest parts of my soul, I believed this was how I was going to make a clean break. He wouldn’t have the gumption to follow me, he was too content not growing up and making choices that didn’t say to me that our future mattered.  I really believed that was the end to our rollercoaster relationship the last 4 years.

Little did I know…

October 2004, the same month that we started dating in 2000, he asked me to marry him.  

How did we get there from where I said we were heading?

In those months of self realization as well as the wake up call that he had been given, he began to change.  A good paying job, saving account to build, breaking away from his youthful surroundings began to be his norm.

Even in the weeks leading up to our marriage, heck even our wedding day, I had people fully questioning the decision I was making.  They couldn’t let go of the Richard they had watched “grow up” and not really change. I saw something. They couldn’t yet see it, but I saw something change for him.  

Flash forward to October 31, 2018.  We had our first date, on this day, 18 yrs ago.

18 yrs ago.

Somehow, we managed to convince my mom to take the kids for us earlier this month.  We ran away for 6 days. When my favorite uncle found out, he asked us “what do you think you will do with yourselves for 6 days without the kids to bother you?”. Richard and I nervously laughed, knowing that we knew full well that we didn’t have a clue what it would be like. All we have known for the majority of our relationship is a love story woven in with 5 little lives.

He then told us, “you will either be running back home because you missed the kids too much or you will not want to come back because you had too much fun without them, lets hope its the latter”.

You want to know the truth?

We didn’t want to board that plane home.  We didn’t want to pack up and leave the little sanctuary we had lived in for the last 6 days.  Free of responsibilities, free of meals to make, bottoms to wipe, fights to referee, life lessons to teach, discussions on who’s turn it is to deal with whatever bomb just went off or speaking in fragmented sentences. We missed their little faces and wanted to squeeze them for a few minutes, but we would have turned right back around to be alone again in a heart beat.

6 days of hand holding, exploring new places, eating ridiculously good food, going to a concert, getting tattoos, connecting and yes at times, just sitting in silence with each other.  I don’t know if you could have pried us off each other, we were in constant contact with each other.

we couldn’t get enough of it.

That thing that drove me to walk down the aisle, down the aisle to a broken soul that had yet met Jesus, had yet to show me what he was really made of under deep soul crushing circumstances, had yet to transform into the God fearing man he is today, the thing that no one else could see was what led me.

He was the echo to the cavern of my heart, a heart that was fiercely cautious and unwilling to give it over freely to anyone. My self preservation didn’t scare him off and I knew that if he could see past all that walls I had built and still want me, there was something in him that I needed.

I have witnessed marriages struggle, break and not repair, because both partners in the equation forgot to put each other first. Somewhere in between raising the kids and dealing with life, they forgot to ask their best friend to come along with them, they forgot to come running home and tell each other about their day, just like they did in the early dating years, where they would share every detail with each other. They forgot to make each other the most important part of their day.

Many kind people have told richard and I to be careful, be on guard for the coma that the enemy wants to put marriages in.

To be honest it is the thing that we have agreed since day one that we would be vigilant about.

Without any chances to experience what it would be like without kids for the last 11 yrs, we never knew if there were cracks forming, we were unaware if we were letting our marriage dance with the looming chance of forgetting each other in the chaos of the Harney 7.

It is with joy and encouragement to anyone who takes the time to read this (lets be honest the blogging world is starting to die as people’s patience to sit and focus on one thing for more than a few seconds or even minutes is where we as a society are at), its my hope that you and your spouse in the midst of the hard years, say no to the world’s desire for you to hook up to the anesthesia and sleep your way through your marriage.

It hasn’t been easy.  We had many chances in the last 18 yrs to say “peace out”.  We had opportunities to say, “this crap is too scary or hurts to deep, so I am just going to cut my ties with you and find someone else”.  We had to physically say to each other “I don’t care what you say, I am not going anywhere, I would never break your trust no matter how much your fears tell you I would”.

By the grace of God, I am blessed to say he is my best friend.  There is no other person on the earth that I would want to spend every single moment with.  No other person I would want to see me at my lowest and weakest points of my soul and to celebrate the victories or highes that come as I learn what it means to be me.

6 days wasn’t enough.  But it was long enough for me to see that we are going to be just fine when the last little harney flies the coop.  Enough for me to dream about what it will be like when it’s just me and him. Back to the basics.

If you haven’t had the time to get away with your spouse…btw it took us 12.5 yrs to finally have a honeymoon, 11 yrs since having kids to go away with each other, so no judgement .  I would encourage you to find a way to break away. Go stay the night at the hotel, ask for someone to watch your kids for a full 24 hrs. So you can enjoy 3 complete meals, go to bed, rise with just each other.  

Go have your health screen check, don’t fall asleep.  Your marriage is the most important human relationship you will EVER have on this earth.  

Where is your love story at right now?  How do you want it to end? What are you doing to make sure it has the ending you hope for?

18 years later and he still makes my heart beat faster when our eyes lock in a crowded room…

As I held her close to my chest this morning, locking eyes with her, letting her read me and all the things going through my mind, I recalled the day I first met her.

The sharp pain that woke my exhausted body, caused me to drag my swollen pregnant body to the gym, to ensure that the gestational diabetes that had become my normal would not jeopardize her health. I could barely get through my two mile walk. The pains were regular, I was timing them, slowly embracing that she would soon be in my arms. Even though a quick grocery store trip had to happen, I somehow managed to push the cart up and down, grabbing the items that would be needed by my mom and kids while I was in the hospital. I knew it was D day.

Laboring at home, something I wanted to experience like I had with Ya’el was my goal. What I found was that its alot harder to labor at home with little ones. Especially a 2 yr old that just wanted to be held and couldn’t understand why sitting still snuggling her was something I could not do.

When I walked into the hospital, with a calm yet nervous husband, I forced myself to find balance between being present and also going into the sacred mental space every laboring mother has to find. I wanted to remember the shine of the waxed floors, the smell of the coffee that had being brewing too long. I didn’t want to forget the yellow strip that would hold the heart monitor around my belly. I made sure to glance at the empty bassinet and accept that I would never see another newborn Harney baby in there after that day.

Knowing and coming to grips with the fact that Veil Eden is the last baby I will ever grow has been a beautiful dance my heart has experienced.

Every milestone has been treasured deep within in my soul. They aren’t recorded in a baby book, like the rest of them. I learned after Ya’el that baby books with a family of more than 2 kids was unrealistic. I may not have a paper trail to give her one day, but I can tell you that I imprinted so many of her 1sts in my soul. Colors, smells, weather, who was around all filed away in my mental camera. I pray that she will understand and accept the words I write each year on her birthday.

Veil Eden has shown me yet again how spiritual of beings we are.

There is this quote in a movie I loved watching in high school, college or days when I had a crappy day, that use to make my husband roll his eyes at.

“That doesn’t even make sense” is always what he use to say.

Yet it always made sense to me. The longing, the empty cavern needing to be filled, the ache to be in relationship. All of that I experience with my heavenly Father, God. I long for Heaven, for eternity with my King Jesus, I long to experience sitting in the throne room of God and having every weight of the world stripped from the fear, pain, hurts I carried. Yet I have never physically met Him.

This best describes how I felt the moment I learned about Veil Eden. I see it in the way people have made space in their heart for her, knowing she needs to be in there, tucked in safely.

I have heard from countless people about her gentle demeanor. How they would just sit and wait for her flip a switch and turn into the at times “demon possessed” toddler they expected. But majority to this day still says “she is just the sweetest thing”.

And it’s true.

Veil Eden makes sure to say good morning to everyone the moment her feet hit the ground. She runs to the couch, calls each family member by name and says “hi”. If mom is running late from the gym or taking too long in the shower, she will patiently sit with the sibling who won the battle to get her morning snuggles.

She sings, especially if momma or Ya’el are belting out one of their favorite songs. Missing out on raising her voice in song is something she won’t let happen. If kyre is lost in a song, moving her body and flowing the way that only she can, she rushes to her side to learn a crash course in creative dance.

Even though her demeanor has been gentle, patient and quite frankly peaceful, she still has been particular about who she has let into her trusted circle. But once you pass the mark, boy watch out, she has your number and will walk right up to you and raise her arms to be picked up.

As we are nearing her 2nd birthday, it comes with another delicate dance between joy and sadness. I have successfully fed her for 2 years, from my body. The longest stretch for me, something that I didn’t achieve with the older ones. I am ready for her to grow up, yet I have cherished holding her, nursing her whenever she wanted “num nums” and choosing to stay present for my caboose baby.

As upcoming travel requires her and I to be seperated for multiple days, now is the time to begin the final days or possible week (s) of our journey as nursing child and momma.

It’s crazy to me how many times I thought that I had had my “last” baby. How I experienced a bonus baby 3x now. Each one showing me that we actually were missing a puzzle piece to our unit. I would daydream, pray and wrestle with how this bonus baby would fit into the chaos of a family that wasn’t prepared for them.

Yet if I had to be honest with you, Veil Eden never was a “lets hope we have room for her”. Instead from the moment we learned about Veil, weeks before I was traveling to run a half. Both Richard and I knew we needed her. That deep down there was a longing, a desire to be woven together to another soul. We had just been denying it, thinking we couldn’t make space for a 5th child.

Today we get to celebrate another year of having her in our lives. Another year of holding her when life gets to much and fighting over who gets her snuggles that bring immediate peace to the restless soul holding her. Today we get to thank God for always being a good Father and giving us what we NEED, not what we think we need. Today we get to welcome our caboose into the toddler years, saying goodbye to last Harney infant stage, but we get to do it with great joy.

Veil Eden, we love you so much. We don’t know why God thought we deserved you, but you really are the completion of our story. You have helped us see God’s goodness and favor in so many ways. How you love, how you comfort those who need you, how you read people so closely and are always watching and assessing the mental health of your family amazes me. I pray that you will always gently pry past the facades and masks people wear and instead take the time that you do to truly know a person’s heart. I can’t wait to see why God was so persistent in creating you and blessing this earth with your gentle soul.

Happy 2nd birthday sweet bean

There is something about your mid 30s.

The number never use to worry me, I always believed in my soul that aging wouldn’t be something that I feared. That it would be something that I would embrace, each grey strand found in my hair, each extra crease found in my skin would mean that I was still alive, still going after life.

The fear that came around “the 30s”. Happened when we stood with Dr. Death, as he gave us the cliff note version of Cystic Fibrosis. We were standing on opposite sides of Ezzy’s hospital bed. I had just celebrated her very first feeding from my body, something that the doctors said I would never experience. “Lucky to reach her 30s”, that rang through my head and continued to haunt me as I aged.

Aging became something that I mourned. Feeling guilty that I was experiencing something that specialists told me would be a miracle for her to experience.

I will admit, it forced me to go down the crazy train in my late 20s. I was 26 when I was given that picture of no hope of aging for my newborn baby girl.

The performer, the perfectionist, the achiever in me when into autopilot. Something that God had broken in me just a few years prior.

If I couldn’t control my baby’s future, then I was going to do everything I could to control my daily life and its surroundings.

I started running half marathons. I strived, I trained, I reached goals, never ever feeling enough though.

I put distance between myself and friends. If they were achieving things that I wished I could, then I put up walls. If they weren’t daily dealing with the prospect of losing a child (which none of them were) then I couldn’t handle being around them and their healthy kids. I couldn’t handle feeling like a failure in their presence. I was a slave to comparison. Denying that somewhere deep down, they were doing the same.

Compare. Strive. Compete. Perfect. Perform. Achieve.

ON REPEAT. EVERY DAY.

Then something happened in my 30s.

I somehow in my mess of trying to figure myself out, found myself smack dab in the most beautiful village. A village of fierce woman, who in their failures and success, carved a space for a broken hurt soul. They love me. In ALL MY STUFF.

Today I turn 34.

The other day my husband lingered too long as he hugged me goodbye for work. I looked up at him and asked him what he was doing. His reply, “counting your grey hair”…

Today I woke up to my workout alarm, set for 5:14 am, like it is every M-F. But today I turned it off, grabbed my face mask and told myself, “its ok, go back to sleep, you have nothing to prove”. This summer, unlike the last 7 summers, I haven’t even reached my usual miles. I am slower then I was when I first started training for halfs. I put on a few extra pounds this summer too. Why? Because I was too busy staying up late with my husband having late night couch dates, because I hit the dismiss button too many mornings. Because I enjoyed way to many good meals with friends and family. Because I am learning that this is the only body God gave me and I need to thank him, by not depriving it.

I opened presents that made tears form, tight hugs to be given and honestly they just made my heart explode.

And because the husband couldn’t leave me out of getting my age in pancakes 😂

I now drink the same tea my mom drank as she was raising us in her 30s, and yes I am so excited to get my own collection of ceramic figurines I remember playing with as a child 😂

34 its going to be a good year. I am not going to fear age any longer. Aging has brought wisdom, discernment, an amazing village, deeper love for my spouse, awareness of higher callings, peace and contentment. I am not afraid of growing old. I don’t know the future for my baby girl that isn’t promised these years, but I hope that as she embraces her journey and sees a mother that isn’t bound by fears, but instead one that is embracing life as it comes.

I stood, scrolling through the list of podcast titles, asking the Lord to show me what I needed to hear before I started a journey that I knew would stretch me and ask more of me than I would be able to handle well. I found it and prayed that God would help me surrender the things that were weighing me down. A long run was in order. Why? Because I would soon be surrounded by 85 people for 5 days in close quarters. I would not be able to disappear, be left alone with my thoughts or better yet find ways to quiet my soul the way I am use to. Life at Orton Ranch is rugged, if you were to ask me. Others like to point out that we are using running water and have beds to sleep in, but if I can’t take a shower daily, have to worry about mice getting into my food or have to listen for the bell ringing to warn of a bear on the grounds, then that my friends is called rugged in my book.

I was challenged on my run to look at my “why”. I have listened to this podcast many times, I have pushed play on this very title more then 2x. What I didn’t realize was that I could find another reason to apply this message to my current situation.

I came back feeling accomplished and ready to tackle what lied ahead, even though I heard from the Lord some things to consider, I was still unsure of my exact “why” for camp.

We spent the rest of our morning grabbing last minute things and loaded up anxious little bodies that could not wait to go back to a place they had been dreaming and counting the days down for. Orton Ranch has carved a special place in the Harney family.

The boat ride, 2.5 mile hike into camp with 22 kids went so much smoother then it did the year prior. There were no injuries, no bags to haul that couldn’t be carried by their tiny little owners, no suitcases with broken wheels to schlep over the hump over and over again. The biggest struggle we faced was a bound and determined 4 yr old that insisted to hike the WHOLE way on her own and let everyone know on the trail, as well as any living forest creatures that she did not appreciate any help. Even though it was so hot, we still found fun along the way and Richard realized the best way to keep Veil from whining was to break branches of blueberries and give them to her.

I won’t ever forget the feeling I had when I first saw Orton ranch last year, Ezzy asked if it was what the garden of Eden looked like. I wondered if I would find the same feeling, the breath slightly held, the quickening of the heart at the view and the joy of seeing everyone there waiting for us.

Orton did not disappoint yet again. It was hard to no want to run when the trees parted and the lush green lawn full of kids running and playing was finally in eyesight.

Our 1st evening at camp was surreal. It is honestly such a blur. We were the last group to hike in, which meant we didn’t get there until an hour before dinner. After arriving, we had to set up our gear and get ready for our first night of the bible lesson. Kids were anxious to find out who their group members were and the counselors quickly had to start learning names and establish trust so that they could try and break through whatever background, family situation, stage of faith their kids were going through.

Everyone welcomed their beds that night and I believe, felt that the first day went better than expected.

Little did the camp know that we would find ourselves woken to a naughty group of boys that decided to get up before 5 am, waking their entire cabin. Thanks to coach Harney, he showed them what life would be like if it happened again. Sprints, kalasetics, and drills were being ordered as they moved their anxious bodies across the green lawn.

The group Bible lessons were amazing. I had the privilege to lead the kids in worship, teach new songs and watch them as they digested what they were taught. It was really cool to see the lights come on for some of the kids who were hearing for the first time that Jesus rescues, saves, holds on to them when they are facing big things. I myself was in awe of the kids’ hearts and perceptions about the things they worry about. It was an eye opening experience.

Even though I was on little Harney duty, I still managed to get to know the campers, not in the same way as their counselors, but atleast enough to know each of them by name and be able to have conversations with them at meals, during elective time or anytime I was walking around the grounds, making sure Ya’el and her independent spirit was staying safe or Veil and her inquisitive mind didn’t let her wander to far.

I am not going to lie, it is down right exhausting trying to make sure that a 4 and almost 2 yr old stay safe, when there is a flowing river and nonstop bear visits. The only time I was able to let my guard fully down was when they were safely tucked in their beds at 10 pm each night and by that point I was too exhausted to hang with the other adults that needed to unwind by the fire each night.

I waited, still wondering if God was going to reveal my “why” for camp. Unsure if I was going to be able to seperate my head from my heart.

Then it happened.

I was sitting by the river banks, baby in my lap, 4 yr old being loved on by one of the many hands that willingly took a little Harney. I was sitting with a dear friend and the Lord told me to share what I had realized, to share how God had brought me through something. With tears in my eyes, I shared, deeply shared where I had been and where I was now. I was engulfed in a hug and was received. It couldn’t be denied the healing had come.

My “why”: healing.

I had settled for that to be the “why”, that we needed to talk about the past and see how far God had brought us to the now. I didn’t think there was going to be anymore big ah ha moments.

Oh ye of little faith, Sarah.

The very last day of camp, we found ourselves faced with a fever ridden puking camper. When you have 85 people crammed together, you know without a doubt how impossible it is to keep that from spreading. In passing a staff member said, “we need to pray over this camp”. When I found a group of willing adults, I gathered them around and we prayed that any attempts of the enemy to mess with the last day would not prevail. Unable to find the person who had suggested praying, I made up my mind to track them down and let them know a group had prayed. When I did find the person, I learned they had gone on their own and walked through the camp and dorms praying over each person and interceding for God’s divine protection.

Not a single person was hit with a puking bug. There were a few upset tummies that lasted for part of the day, but nothing else.

My “why”, yet again, was to witness: healing

Our last night, after tucking in kids from their “rave” at the campfire well past the normal bedtime had me wanting to spend time with the other staff. Thanks to my dear friend, I was gifted a 2 hr nap and finally felt like I could hang out with the rest of the adults and have some adult conversations not being interrupted by 2 busy little ladies.

A fall down the stairs ended with me crawling back up the stairs and elevating the ankle that I heard rip…I going to have PTSD from that sound for a while.

The medic had gone to bed, richard was finishing the devotions with his group and I was silenting crying inside. How was I going to hike out? I am not going to be able to walk for days, ran through my mind. This injury was not new to me. I knew it was not going to be pretty.

Thanks to a quick thinking person, I had my ankle wrapped up in a frozen bag of cheese. As I waited for my husband to show up, I was anointed with oil and prayed over by a bunch of teenagers. Hands were laid over my ankle, intercession for my health was made, tender hearts were talking to our Abba Father, for me…I don’t think that moment will ever leave my memories.

Being the person that I am that struggles to fully trust God, I was wavering with thoughts that I would really be ok the next morning. It was then that a very perceptive youth, who had the audacity to call me their elder just minutes before, challenged me. They said, “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow when you get up, because you are going to be healed”, I must have flashed a quick look the revealed my wavering faith, because they then said, “faith like a mustard seed Sarah, you just have to believe”.

Wow…

Very early the next morning, I woke to a stiff throbbing ankle. I repented and told the Lord, “I want to believe Lord, so I am choosing to believe”. I went back to bed and waited for the camp to wake up. The true test was going to be when I placed pressure on my foot. I readied myself to have to quickly grab something due to the lack of being able to bare weight on my foot. I however was met with strength. The swelling and massive bruising that should have been there, was barely noticable. I walked out of my room in awe and found the youth that had challenged me the night before. We praised God and I thanked them for challenging me.

My “why” yet again: healing.

There were many other wonderful experiences, conversations that breathed life into me, and times that I found the surrealness of Orton Ranch take me over.

Ya’el intently listened to the bible lessons and shared her heart with the counselor that let her tag along with their group.

Ezzy didn’t miss a single vest treatment, yet again thanks to her brother who ran a half marathon to get her a generator.

Kyre found her identity outside of the shadow of her sister and faced her fear of water!

Cayden had a learning lesson that provided other strong faith believing adults speak into his life.

Veil got to be loved and snuggled by many different mommas that had loving arms and hearts to receive her endless need to be held and loved on, plus she was the only one to get a bath out of 85 people.

Richard was able to serve alongside a friend that he has needed in his life, one that has been a brother to him as they have walked growing in the Lord.

Kayaking the whole way out and going down the ramp was a new experience that I can’t wait to do again.

Watching a friend, who had told me their desire a year ago while standing on the front porch of the main house, enter the waters of baptism was really special. To see someone follow through, to grow more in their faith and to be a testimony to so many others over the year, it was inspiring. To know they met God deeply in a way that only Orton Ranch could do a year ago, it made me realize what this place does to souls.

It is a place of healing.

I am home, have had 2 hot showers, there is more laundry than any sane person would want to do, I am preparing my family to detox off the sodium, beef and simple carbs they ate non stop, I slept in my own pillow top bed and have avoided jumping in to quickly to normal life here.

I don’t want to forget what happened. I don’t want to fall to quickly into the rhythms that can water my faith down, I don’t want to fill up on things that leave me wanting to retreat, because I let them hold too much power over me.

Believe it or not, my heart is already longing to go back. Back to the place that God designed long ago to shine his light over and bring healing to many souls.

Orton Ranch, my “why”: healing

“Momma calls me Miss Bossy Pants”

This was shared with me as I was given the run down of spending the day with my soon to be 4 yr old. I was also informed that even though she was invited to have breakfast with papa and Grandma G, she however managed to debate her way through getting an ice cream cone at 9 am 🙄

In her short 4 yrs of life, one thing that has remained consistent is the fact she has always known what she wants and has never felt stifled in sharing her opinion. Many sundays she walks down the hallway of church with such authority, as if she has an important meeting to head too, but in reality she is trying to find a willing sibling to come and play whatever game she has decided must be played during Momma’s worship practice.

Even though she is so certain in her beliefs, I still for some reason think she might throw a curve ball from time to time. As Kyre’s gala drew nearer, I was preparing myself for a little sister to be so enthralled with ballet and a case to plead for her future involvement. I spent many mid mornings, doing chores or tackling work from home, watching shows she would put on with Veil, complete with ballet shoes and ballerina attire. The day came to watch her big sister on the stage. I was ready to hear it. The show ended and she turned to me and said “I still want to be a karate girl”, as she slid off the seat and was ready to go and congratulate her sister. As if she had read my mind, without missing a single beat.

This is life with Boo.

She likes to talk about emotions, they aren’t scary to her or something to hide, she wants them out on the table and to process them with you. She wants inside your head if there is any silence that lingers too long for her super busy brain. Her persistence to get an answer is the strongest I have dealt with in the years of raising 5 Harney babies. Her siblings would either pick up that I was consumed with something and hold their thought until I was free or would just find someone else to pester with their question.

Not Ya’el.

She will stand there, hand on her hip, eyes piercing through my brain fog as I attempt to manage all the things on my life. No response just makes her volume increase, “yes or no momma, yes or no”.

I managed to just get roped into carrying her train with clear instructions to use both hands, after being corned in my bedroom putting away clean clothes. Delighting tasks is an art form for her.

There are days I wish I had the courage to be more like my 4 yr old.

Not afraid to ask hard questions when people are being aloof, able to pierce through the societal norms of letting people just be distant and instead leaning in, striving to make connection. I wish I always knew what I wanted and was able to give up my incessant need to waiver back and forth, but instead own it and follow through with it. I also wish that my strength when it climbs out of its neatly tucked away box, would be something others willingly following because it’s so clear that I am suppose to lead, rather then walking on egg shells trying to harness my strength to not come off so “intimidating”.

Ya’el Ariel Ruth owns who she is.

I am excited to watch this little pint size boss grow and continue to hone her innate skills that God so clearly knit within her.

The world needs more girls and women, sure of themselves. Feet firmly planted in their beliefs, not able to be knocked over by the unending pressure the world delivers and wants to hold girls and women under its thumb. The world needs more women who will see their strength is a God given blessing that was given with the plan that injustice, darkness and inequality will not prevail against the very thing God has given to his daughters, especially my very own Boo Bear.

Dear Boo Berry,

You are 4 today and I still remembering walking to school with you contently tucked in my womb on the last day of school, past your due date and being the very little soul God intended you to be. Following your own plans and not the others. Your time here in our family has shown me many times, His ways and His plans are higher then mine. You and all your personality that doesn’t fit in your tiny little body has won the hearts of many people. I see the smiles and chuckles as you confidently go about your day. You were given free gifts, extra umbrellas for your drink and told many times how precious you were on the island of Kauai, and proved yet again how magnetic your soul is.

I pray that I run towards your hard questions, I pray that I help you not be afraid of your strength as you grow and others try to diminish it, I pray that in all that you do, you continue to know who and who’s you are.

God’s special treasure.

Happy 4th birthday my rainbow baby. You have the BEST flosser to date 👧🏽💃🏽

Did you hit play on the above link? If you haven’t, please do so. It will make sense as you read my ponderings.

Ok, I am assuming that you have gone back and pushed play since I so kindly asked you to do so, so now I will continue.

It was late one evening, Richard and I were at the tail end of our nightly ritual. Hulu had been well loved and we were nearing the point that our exhausted minds and bodies were about to wave the white flag. I got up, thanks to the commercial break. BTW anyone under the age of 30 has NO clue what an actual commercial break is, am I right? I recall having to spend a minimum of 5-6 minutes while growing up, watching countless sets of commercial breaks for one measly episode of ER or American Idol. To top it off, it was a cartoon commercial. I really dislike cartoons, very few actually hold my attention.

I don’t know if it was the song that caught my attention, but something did. I found myself sit back down (I am sure Richard was trying to figure out what on earth his wife was doing). I watched all the way through and at the end I turned to Richard and said “that was my mom…I don’t know how she did it…sudden singleness, school, bills, loneliness”

Unable to allow this ridiculous commercial leave my mind, here I am writing about it. But I think that it has been following my heart and mind, like a stalker, because of what I have to share. I am sharing early because I am running another 1/2 marathon this weekend.

Mother’s Day is on it’s way. Less then 2 days to be exact. I have heard whisperings from my darlings’ little mouths and even heard a child inform my husband about the looming deadline for gifts to be done. I am patiently awaiting shutterfly to deliver my own contribution to this holiday.

There are so many different directions we can take on Mother’s day. We can honor a mom’s unconditional love, heart, care, gentleness, comfort, her ability to know where every lost item is in the house, even though it doesn’t belong to her, her ability to hold multiple family members’ calendars together, the endless life lesson talks with naughty children (only after she has come out of her own timeout) or we could talk about all the things she does to serve each individual in her family, based off of their own unique needs.

But I can’t this year. Maybe it’s the season I am in myself. I think that is why that commercial had me all overwhelmed with emotions.

This year I want to talk about a mom’s grit.

I was once told I had some grit, which is defined as “passion and perseverance over the long haul” (according to psychologist and researcher Angela Duckworth).

How many of you mother’s could raise your hand right now if I asked you “how many of you feel motherhood is NOT what you thought it would be?”

Now you would have to understand, if I came to a group of women (something that would be incredibly intimidating to me) I would be hoping that I would find open transparency. Because I myself would only ask that question because my soul would be craving for some honest dialogue.

What if I were to take it farther and ask you “what is the greatest struggle you are facing in this season of motherhood”.

I have been incredibly blessed to have some lifegiving conversations with mothers in the last 6 months. Waters parted, children were either not around or I found myself in the twilight zone and was able to converse in FULL sentences that were not interrupted every 2 minutes while my children played quietly.

You know what I have discovered?

Every single mom has GRIT.

Age, seasons of life, number of kids, husband or not, career, etc. All those things develop grit within us.

I have been reading about Jochabed. She was the mother of Moses in the bible. You can find her brief story at the beginning of Exodus 2. Some would think that a woman who only had 11 verses written about her would have little significance, heck her name isn’t even mentioned in the telling of her story. But I was intrigued by her. Here was a mother, who had 2 children and found herself pregnant during a time where Pharaoh had a decree to murder ALL Hebrew baby boys.

Her whole pregnancy was spent, I imagine in pure grief. She had no clue if she was going to be able to raise her child or if her newborn would be murdered the moment the first breath was taken and the gender was revealed.

Her 3rd baby came with a death sentence. Thanks to some brave midwives, she delivered a baby boy and was able to hide him for 3 mos. When she could no longer hide him (um I am still wondering how she kept him quiet for 3 mos). She developed a plan to hide him in a basket. Her next plan was to place him in the Nile River.

This is where the story gets a little wonky for me. I can quickly find myself making judgements about her plan. Create a woven basket, cover it in tar and float my baby down the river?!? What was this lady thinking?

If I am honest, I have done this before, I have judged another mom’s plan to address the current hardship she is facing. Yet if you were to look at decisions I have made, many could go “yeah, that Sarah Harney, she is a little cooky”

Even though I sidetracked with her plan to save her baby. I was compelled to look at this mom. To acknowledge her grit. She was faced with a devastating situation. Her child had a death warrant. There would be no way she could keep it from others. Can you imagine if some embittered mother in her camp found out that her child was spared by midwives, when hers was murdered?

Jochabed hadn’t lost hope. She was resourceful. She fought for her child even though everything was stacked against her.

All I know is that in this season of mothering, I feel like a failure, more than I feel like I am doing a substandard job. The days that seem to come and go faster then I have a chance to digest them are filled with children who stretch me to my limits. They are growing, they are finding out who they are in this world, medical needs can take up the emotional and mental space I have left, I wonder if they feel loved more than I want to.

Jochabed’s baby gets saved by Pharaoh’s daughter who requests for a Hebrew woman to nurse and care for her newfound baby in the river until he is weaned (which meant around 3 yrs of age). Jochabed is paid to care for her baby.

Jochabed’s grit allowed her to raise her baby that should have been killed. Yes she didn’t get to have him past the age of 3, she didn’t get to watch him grow and celebrate birthdays and milestones with him, BUT she got to love and care for him more then her human heart could have hoped for in her current situation.

Why did I just waste 5-10 minutes of your time retelling you a story from the Bible?

Because I really believe I am suppose to encourage you mommas.

There are so many things you are facing in your life right now, honestly a today for a fact, something came crashing at your feet…right? There are fears and anxieties that seem to consume your waking and sleeping moments, hello 2 am worry sessions. Some of you are putting your flag up on a stick and can’t even say its a white flag because its all stained and tattered, just like your life. There are situations that you are standing face to face with and you are wondering how you are going to survive them.

But mommas. I want you to pause and see what you have. Even with all the things faced against you. You are still standing. You are showing signs of sanity, if not your family would have had you commited. You are taking a moment for yourself right now and ignoring the to do list. You are surrendering your children and their issues to God, yes, even your grown children you are continually placing in God’s hands. You are finding another way even though the massive detour you are on looks like a dead in.

“Passion and perseverance over the long haul”.

Whatever your situation is, I want to say thank you for finding a way to pick yourself back up. Thank you for not giving up when it seems impossible. Thank you for raising children who won’t expect others to be perfect and guarded, instead crave for real people, because you have shown them transparency. Thank you for making this world a better place and choosing life when we live in a society that believes in genocide as a woman’s right. Thank you for always pouring out, even when you feel empty, the world needs more selfless people. Thank you for paving the way for other mothers who are looking for a champion to follow. Thank you for placing your HOPE in the lord and trusting that He is the author of your story, especially on the hard days.

Because you, you my friend, have some GRIT.

Happy MOTHER’S day 💐

Thank you to my own mother Barbara, who found her own GRIT and could have been the main character of that commercial. Love you.

Somehow I managed to not plan for today, it’s not the first time I have done this. Mainly because this time frame in the year seems to be at the height of insanity and it is never attended to in the manner I would have loved to devote to. Yet, I am asking myself, better yet chastising myself to get better at this next time.

He doesn’t like cards, doesn’t care for unwanted gifts and definitely doesn’t care for filler gifts. A life of being the sole financial provider for a constantly growing family the last 11 yrs has made it impossible to buy things for him. If it’s a necessity, its worked within the budget, it is discussed with the financial advisor (me) and then it purchased. Buying for himself rarely happens and so it always makes this day the hardest for his family. What do you get a man that has embodied sacrificial love so well? He would give you the shirt off his back if you came to him and said, “hey man, I really need your shirt because…”

Thanks to the big change in my life, going back to work, I have found the balancing act even harder. He is met with a wife that is struggling in learning how to care for a home and family while meeting the deadlines, workloads, and expectations that come with her new job.

I dropped the ball. Nothing was laid out for him this morning, something he has done for me over the years, no heartfelt little hands drew cards, no dinner plans to look forward to (the man loves to eat) thanks to both of us working tonight.

Today has been like any other day.

I wasn’t even sure I was going to write something. Honestly I have phone calls that need to be made now that I have the baby down for a power nap before we go and get siblings from school here in an hour. But as I was wiping the goo off the counters that I didn’t get to before heading to the office this morning a list started to form in my head.

It’s not wrapped in a bow, it hasn’t been purchased from a store, but every single bit of it is true.

35 years ago, God breathed life into this man that we get to call hubby and daddy

William Richard Harney, here are the 35 things I love and am thankful for:

1. You call me beautiful when I first wake up, when you come home from work or when we have been separated for a bit

2. You always make sure to let me pick the 2 plates we are going to share at restaurants

3. You make sure I have clean sheets to come home to whenever I travel

4. Breakfast is made every morning for me

5. The dreaded nighttime routine has been your jam since Cayden was first weaned 9 yrs ago

6. When I am taking a moment to myself, while you man the circus we call children, you always say “take your time”

7. You deal with the pukers when they hit our home, knowing I CAN.NOT. do it

8. Dirty diapers have never been an issue for you

9. You support me and my need to run, even if it means saturday mornings don’t start until I get my miles in

10. When I catch you staring at me when we are in a crowded room

11. Your willingness to coach and not give up on the uncoachable kids

12. Your ability to fix almost anything that has broken in our house

13. When you hold our daughters and whisper in their ears and they giggle

14. How you care for my mom

15. How you are intentional with my nephew

16. How you LOVE my friends and never make me feel like I have to choose between you or them

17. Your level head when I am spinning like a top

18. The grace you have given over the phone at work when I have called in frantics for the 100th time over some disaster the kids (electrical fire), me (grease fire), lily (bear attack), Candy or the chickens created

19. Your willingness to do the dishes after dinner

20. Your desire to never put out my fire, but instead flame it and show me my voice matters

21. Your adventurous spirit and desire to try something new, since I love routine

22. Your heart to build men up within the church and your desire to be a disciple

23. Your love for christian rap

24. Your bow ties

25. Your silver hair – its sexy

26. How you put us first in everything thing that you do

27. Your willingness to play board/card games against the women in my family knowing you will always loose

28. Your tender heart, the tears you shed when I can’t, your transparency with feelings

29. The opportunities you let our son learn to be a man, when his mom isn’t ready for it

30. How you handled our son when he was exposed to indecency from another kid

31. The advocate you are for your daughter and the countless phone calls you have made to ensure her continued healthcare coverage

32. How you cared for me during the labor of each baby

33. Your ability to forgive and forget

34. Your playfulness, even if I find it annoying half the time, someone needs to see the world different then the black and white that I see

35. How you love us with every part of your soul

Happy birthday my love, I pray that we can show you through our words and actions that we are so blessed to have you as our protector, provider, husband and father.

It’s hard to believe that a whole month has passed since we returned from the most amazing family vacation. Years of foregoing eating out, buying the unnecessaries and always tucking money away, even if it was only 20 bucks is how we pulled it off. A few years ago, someone on FB decided to post an easy savings plan.

I to be honest, never really knew how to do it, when overwhelmed I tend to avoid and not dig in. So that is what I did for years. How could a constantly growing family, every other year, save for a tropical destination on one steady income. My side jobs never provided anything substantial to our income. The FB post seemed fool proof, so that is what I used. That simple savings plan covered the cost of our condo rental, our suburban rental and some groceries for the 2 weeks we were on the island of Kauai. The next step I had to tackle was tickets. Thanks to alaska airlines, I paid everything I could with our CC. I paid utilities, gas, groceries, fuel for our tank, walmart, etc. Anytime there was a chance for the bonus miles, you bet I signed us up. After 5 years of saving miles, we were beyond blessed to “purchase” 5 miles tickets and with the help of the companion fare, we covered the remaining 2 tickets needed to get our family there.

We didn’t leave with any disillusionment of detours that we would find ourselves on. In fact, the worrier aka always waiting for the shoe to drop, person was watching for it. When we found ourselves stumbling into bed at midnight after a long drive to our condo from the airport, it was then that I discovered our first detour. In the chaos of traveling with 8 people and ALL our luggage (car seats, strollers, pack and play, etc) we managed to leave our cooler at the airport. Not just any cooler, but the cooler with Ezzy’s $3k medicine in it that has to be special ordered and takes days to get anywhere not on the mainland of the US. I was crushed, angry and went to bed unable to sleep. Morning came and with great urgency we found ourselves back at the airport pounding on the door of the office that refused to answer any calls for the last hour and a half. There I found our prized cooler and there I uttered my first Mahalo with tears down my face.

When Ezzy’s vest broke it didn’t derail me. Murphy’s law right. Also everything comes in 3s I have found. So we switched to manual therapy and called her amazing vest company and they started working on sending a new one out. But what was the 3rd incident?

2nd degree sunburn on day 3 of our 14 day trip.

We found out we had a faulty bottle of sunscreen and everyone who used it got the color of tomato on their skin. Ezzy was the worst. Blisters on her nose and her entire back, fire red. No longer able to do manual therapy and the weekend approaching, meant that we were going to go even longer without airway clearance.

It was then that I was left with nothing, but to ask my village to pray for Ezzy, that God would protect her lungs and the vest would show up sooner than we anticipated. We spent 3 days waiting for the vest, 3 days of hearing her get gunky and 3 days of me surrendering to God. Honestly, it is where He always wants me. Never reliant on myself, but reliant on the fact that He is her provider, He is in control.

The vest arrived on Kauai day 6 of our vacation and we became the proud new owners of her 3rd machine.

Everyone told us that it was going to rain when we got to Kauai. Richard and I kept watching the forecast, days leading up to our trip and were so defeated when we saw the predicted weather. Staying on the north shore, meant that we were hammered the hardest. Thanks to my adventurous, find another way husband. We loaded up everyday and made the trek to the other side of the island and chased the sunshine. We didn’t spend a single day without sun, even though the locals kept telling us “this is the worst it has been in years”.

Our days began around 6:15, thanks to little bodies that arose with the sun and thankfully due to Nana, we were able to lay in bed and await until true chaos hit after breakfast.

Richard made sure to make a hot breakfast on the days I would sneak away for a morning run.

Due to the lengthy drive we had to take each day, we learned to pack for a whole day away from our kitchen and were so thankful Kauai has a costco.

The long drives weren’t too bad. We got to know the WHOLE island really well. We saw amazing scenery. The kids learned to keep themselves busy without the use of electronics and with good old conversation, games and drawing. We only busted out the ipad for a movie when everyone was too tired to use inside voices or manners. What I enjoyed the most is how the LOUD car would go silent the moment we pushed play on one of the many sermon podcasts we listened too. You want to talk about church trained kids. As soon as the preacher started, they zipped their lips and the whole energy in the car died down. As soon as the sermon ended, within seconds they were back to themselves. It was crazy.

Deep down I had hoped that this trip would reconnect us all. Regardless of how hard we try to make time for each other, because of the various things we do, we are always going here and there. My prayer was that we would return closely knitted, that any wears and tears that happened over the years would mend. Especially with my oldest kids. They have seen alot of change. Careers for both mom and dad, new siblings, new callings. There have been days I wondered if they even liked each other. Towards the end of the trip, Richard caught a glimpse of the mending. Ezzy was sitting alone on a log and Cayden ran up behind her, gave her a huge hug and pulled her to the ground. They laid there laughing and Richard said, that made the whole trip worth it. The kids learned to be each other’s friends Ezzy told me she whispered to Cayden one day and said “you are my favorite part of this trip”, he did roll her eyes at her, but she knew he heard her and it was received. Yes they fought, but they also played so much with each other. They had evening races in the huge backyard. They had evening swimming competitions. They shared shaved ice with each other. They learned about each other in ways that only Hawaii provided. Cayden helped Ezzy learn how to swim and cheered her on as she swam the length of the pool.

Hawaii brought a sense of identity back to the Harneys. All the to dos that are stacked high were gone. They didn’t have stressed out parents trying to squeeze in one more thing before our minds and bodies gave out. They weren’t being shuttled from one practice or after school event to the other. We just got to be. Be with one another.

As ANY woman would tell you, I had an idea of vacation body in mind. I believed in my hearts of hearts that I would be disciplined, that I would push myself hard and that I would reach my goal of what I thought was enough. Life had other plans. So I didn’t pack the too small for me bikini that I had planned to wear months and months ago when I got it. I packed my one piece with shame along with the shorts I wore the summer after having Veil. I was going to have to go as Sarah, mother of 5 and not hungry/over worked out Sarah.

Much to my surprise, every single beach I went to had the same crowd of women. What was that crowd? It was a crowd of every single shape and size of women in 2 pieces. They didn’t hide behind one piece bathing suits, they didn’t drown themselves in hot cover ups. NO, they walked, with smiles on their faces, deep in conversations with their man smiling back at them and their beauty. They didn’t shift or quickly cover up when people walked by, but instead drank in the laughter of their children swarming around them, the very children that gave them their stretch marks and cushion.

I then realized that I was allowing my altered view of myself dictate how I enjoyed and embraced this trip and honestly season of life. I went to Richard, admitted my shame and asked him to take me to find a 2 piece bathing suit. That man needed no bribing and I found myself with a new suit that I felt I could be me and never put back the dreaded one piece on my body.

I didn’t know that Hawaii would bring wholeness to my shattered body image. I didn’t know that Hawaii would help me love my body. Something I have NEVER done in the 33 years I have walked this earth. Even at my smallest weight, I was miserable and completely a slave to what I had to do to be that small. Hawaii helped me own this amazing body that grew and cradled 5 amazing little souls that call me mommy.

Hawaii.

My heart is saddened to watch the news reports of the massive flooding taking place in Kauai. The north shore got hit the hardest and we saw our favorite breakfast burrito place surrounded by water. There are many who have lost their homes.

But I also remain completely confident that when the Harney’s return to Kauai, we will see it back to normal. There is something so enduring and iconic about Kauai. The people are not what you would expect. They don’t meet you with Las at the airport, they don’t go out of their way to make you feel welcome, it’s not a tourist destination. In fact they don’t care for you at all. The first week locals were short with us. They were less than helpful. Then after seeing us past the week mark and seeing us at regular places, they began to become friendly, the gardner would say hi in the mornings, the grocery store clerk would ask how our adventures were going.

Kauai was the perfect place for us to unplug. To not get caught up in countless tours, city life to explore in the evenings or crowded beaches to fight for a sliver a sand. Instead, we found ourselves many times having miles of sand to pick from and now and then someone who wanted to comment on the size of our family. Kauai’s spirit is so chill yet so strong. They don’t have to rush to do anything. The to do list is probably: sun, friends, family, food. They know their priorities and they don’t compromise.

Today Ya’el curled up on my lap and said “I miss Hawaii”.

Me too Boo, me too.

#prayforKauai

Dear Cayden,

For quite a few years I have felt honored to write “about you” and not “to you” on your birthday each year. It was always a joy to walk down memory lane as I recalled the year I had spent with you and all the things you taught me while we learned together, this whole mother and son thing.

I loved it more then anything, because it gave others a chance to see you in the light that I see you. Every mother loves her son, her children, in ways that no other person on the earth can love them. I am not an exception to the rule, but I will say that my love for you is really hard to define.

Because the word love doesn’t seem adequate when I think about you. So this year, instead of writing to recall the memories, I want to change it all and I want to speak a blessing over you as you enter the new world of double digits.

Cayden, you my son are going to move mountains. Just this very morning, driving back from our morning run, the run that you smoked me in, I asked you your “why” for training for your 2nd half marathon. I had anticipated to have some serious heart felt reason to why you want to abuse your body and push it limits that most sane adults will never attempt to do.

Instead as we drove down one of the many hills I begin to despise during training season, you showed me another side of you. “Because I want to better myself as a runner…because I want to be faster then…” was your reply.

I paused, quickly formulated my response and told you “son, you have to have a good reason to want to run, one that is not laced with pride. Pride will lead you to places that won’t ever satisfy”. I then told you that Ken told me that every good runner finds their why and doesn’t let go of it, because without a why, a runner eventually decides to find other things to do.

I didn’t want us to pass this opportunity to discuss one of the things you are going to face, over and over again, because of the very man you are growing into. Manhood, mini-manhood for you has been one INTENSE year for this momma of yours.

You have proven more times then I want to admit that you are in fact a man in training and a you aren’t afraid of your calling. The near electrical fire that happened this summer, showed me that you had a more level head then your stressed out mother. I was met with your cool calm demeanor and a quick action plan to my slightly hysterical reaction.

Your quick thinking had you grab your sisters and get them outside to safety while I was running for the fire extinguisher. On that day, you showed me that you were and are ready for your call.

So many times when we butt heads, its not over another round on the game console or whether or not you are allowed to stay out just a few minutes later. Instead its over things like allowing you to stay up and watch a comedian with us, because you can understand each joke that is geared for adults. Your sarcasim and quick wit can be the thing that makes my head go 360 when those thoughts rush down your head and out of your mouth before you had the chance to determine if the risks were worth it.

Your mouth…

Will you remember with laughter or distain the little white bar of soap that has teeth marks in it when you have a mouthy son or daughter of your own?

As you have learned the ups and downs of making and keeping friends in the entitled generation you are growing up in, I have never spent more time praying for you. You see the wrongs, you don’t bend and you can’t comprehend why the world always is forcing their beliefs on you and they can’t accept yours. Justice fighter is a role that you valiantly own.

I recently heard you inform your sister to go and change her clothes, after you told her “reach up and touch your toes, if anything shows go change your clothes”. She told you that you weren’t her boss, which you replied, “go change your clothes, nobody is going to see that”. I hesitated. I wondered, am I suppose to get involved?

But then, when I saw her in a changed outfit, she wan’t sulking, she wasn’t pissed off, instead she was laughing with you in the kitchen as she was packing her lunch. She knew in her 8 year old wisdom that she had a brother who cared about her value and how the world sees and receives her.

It was on our recent trip to Hawaii that I got to see the pieces of you that I have wondered if the world in its darkness had began to chip away at.

You see, I only get to see you for an hour or two in the morning, most school afternoons are tied up with sports or a commitment your dad and I are carrying, which leaves us with a few hours in the evenings with you. You spend the bulk of the day away from me. Which means, alot of the times, I see the hard unfilterd moments, knowing, because of assurance from your teachers that you are the star pupil, helper and friend to everyone you come in contact with.

We were visiting some friends who were in Kauai as well and we had been enjoying their beautiful beach lawn. You and your sisters made quick friends with the other traveling kids and your parents were lost in conversation with our friends. It was then asked, “where is boo (Ya’el)”. Your dad, with Veil in his arms quickly went one direction, Nana went another. But what happened next, still brings too many strong emotions to my heart.

I found myself in a nail biting race with you, the iced drink in hand on the hot day was all over the lawn and there you and I were in a dead sprint, barefoot feet on the pavement. You were the first to scoop up the screaming 3 year old that had concerned people trying to comfort from a safe distance. Even though in her fear and misplaced anger at you, she fought you off, you still held her until I was there. The wall of lost kids on Walmart’s wall has left a permanent awareness of the evil in the world for your heart.

You were you, protector, fighter, responder.

Cayden, you my son, are no longer a child. You don’t think like a child, you don’t reason like a child. I don’t know how to feel about it. I wonder if this broken world has robbed you too soon of things your little body and mind should be enjoying with some innoscence.

Your first counseling session with our family counselor exposed the very thing that we believed has been the root of your anger. Your inability to place trust in God, trust him with Ezzy and the cystic fibrosis, has left you feeling utimately responsible for her. That somewhere in your 9 years, you have carried her longevity of life as your own battle. Yes, you were angry when we didn’t devulge the whole truth of the meeting that day, but you came home and told me what you learned. How “it wasn’t your job” to keep her healthy.

It has been a year that I believe we are going to be able to look back with fond memories as we look through the endless photos I have taken, documenting your’s and your sister’s stories. We have had big moments that shaped our family, made us dig deeper into our faith, but also moments that have caused us to step aside and watch you grow into the man God created you to be so long ago.

William Cayden Harney, I pray that God in all his goodness will continue to be the loudest voice in your head. That the desire to do better, will not come from the world’s standards, but instead come from heaven above. I pray that as you continue to learn to be a friend, while still standing for what is right, that you will lead your peers to truth and not lead them astray, that you will never misuse the influence God has given you. I pray that your humor will be something that is not used as a shield for your emotions, but used when you see hurting people that need something to laugh about. I pray that as you care for the women in your life, that you will continue to learn to give them love and patience because you care about their hearts, more than you care about being in charge, that you will continue to sacrificial love in a way that your friends are compelled by.

Today you are 10 years old. Today you are leaving behind the single digits, the digits that are laced with boyhood, a naiveness of the world and instead entering the doubles where you are going to continue to develop a keen awareness of how things work.

Don’t forget that God called you to be his soldier, not the world’s. I know that you have many battles yet to face, but I believe that as long as you, along with the help from us, keep going back to God to be your general, you my son are going to change the world.

Happy birthday, my one and only son