Babies.

Both of my children have been obsessed with playing with their babies lately.

I am rather surprised at how much Finley likes the babies--I can't remember Vienna being quite as into dolls as young as he is.

Some parents might discourage their boys from playing with dolls. We don't. After all, in reality it isn't just girls that have babies…boys do too. And, I think it's a great way to see and encourage the caring, protective and loving characteristics of my son. He shows his adventurous, strong and daring spirit in plenty--so it's heart melting to see his compassionate side right alongside.

He really is a sweet boy. :)

He rocks and kisses his baby. Pushes it in the stroller and even puts it to sleep. It's probably the cutest thing I've ever seen.

Oh how my heart melts for this strong, caring, little boy.

Intentional life.

I heard our girl cry out for me, I glanced at the clock and unintentionally sighed. 3pm. Nap time was over.

I entered her room and sat at the side of the bed as she pouted and whined, and threw herself back against the pillow.

"Where's Daddy?" she asked, her lip quivering.

Daddy had been the one to put her down for her nap.

"He had to leave..." I said.

Then it happened. With a broken hearted cry, she said, "I just really want him!"

Then she sobbed.

And sobbed.

Her poor little heart cried out. And I knew. This wasn't about Daddy, this was about more. She'd been crying this cry for awhile and unintentionally I hadn't truly listened.

Somewhere along the way, amongst the questions, tantrums, pushing limits and busy days...our hearts withdrew from each other. I didn't think it was possible, but--in fact, it happened frighteningly easily. The busies of the days had stolen my focus. The cries of my children had tired my emotions. The slumber of the nights had teased my drowsy eyes. That was yesterday...and the day before, and the day before that...

Sometimes as a parent you live days that just get you by. Unintentionally it becomes the norm, and you find yourself living each day that way. Dreading, sighing, cringing and tired for what was to come.

The simple truth...
Everything is fighting to steal our intentions. Blindness is a sneakily haze that is always drifting by.

And I have let it settle. I have given it ground. My focus is blurry and my fight is weak. In this way of living, selfishness has ruled. The world of me has reigned...and, it has ruined.

It has hurt my daughter's heart.

And I feel sick.

I have one of those moments, and I realize my mothering failure.

Alone, I always fail.

Alone, I am selfish. Alone, I am tired and weak.

Alone...I ruin.

My daughter sobs harder, her tiny little body shaking with the hurt of her heart.

I stroke her hair, and feel her pain. My heart sobs too--for time lost, for tears missed, and moments thrown away.

How can being something so wonderful, be so hard? How can joy be lost amongst the greatest joys in life? How can I cut little pieces of heart without knowing I'm holding the scissors? How can I see in the dark? How can I fight when I'm tired?

Some people call this life. I call it...living unintentionally.

I ruin, unintentionally.

I am selfish, unintentionally.

I am tired and weak and I fail, unintentionally.

But unintentional isn't life. And life isn't about me. And I've been living unintentionally.

Life is love....
....Life is intentional.

I can intentionally choose to dwell among the flowers. I can intentionally choose to see the beauty in the ugly. I can choose to intentionally love.

And I am thankful. Thankful to hear the cries of my daughter's heart. Thankful to feel grace that is given. Thankful for the love that encompasses. Thankful to have life to live. And thankful to have love to give.

Intentionally, I tune into my daughter's sobs and my fingers caress her golden hair. I let her feel her ache. My heart sympathizes. She knows. And she burrows in my lap. Our hearts reconnect.

And I am thankful again. Thankful for eyes opened. Thankful for hearts restored. Thankful for love lost.

Intentionally, I wait until she's expressed all that hurt inside her heart. The cries have words and I intentionally listen.

I intentionally love. And she knows.

And it makes all the difference in the world.