learning to talk

 Sometimes I forget that you are so small

your mind is so busy, your emotions are so big

the saga of backoe and weedeedeeders and pocsles that weaves through your concerns is a part of my every day.

Pow in da Waa is not too intelligible to most but when we're playing the Getty's Power in the Blood and you are yell-singing about the "wun-wuckin pow" it's pretty special to you and to me. 

I forget to remind you that Jesus is our Shepherd, and I worry about all this transition

But you're loved

you love 

(us, and your squishy baby sister who alternates beaming at you and looking terrified about what you might do next)

please keep telling us what's on your heart

Jesus wants to know too.

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