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Do You Really Know Me?

On November 30, 2005, Joe and I held the baby we prayed for and loved and had to say good-bye to too soon. 

 I had carried her for only 25 weeks, and she was stillborn in the quiet hours of the night and baptized and prayed over by my priest and friend and fellow new mother. Our first baby's name was Isabel Perry Boyles, and she was tiny and beautiful. She waits for me in Heaven in the arms of my grandmothers and hers. 

 Did you know that?

 Maybe you know because you sent me a note or brought us dinner, offered a hug, or stood on my front porch a week later holding out yellow roses as tears fell and no words passed. And I’ve never forgotten.

 Maybe you know because we’ve talked about the hard road to parenthood, and her story came up.

 Maybe you’ve asked me where my passion for children comes from, and I told you.

 Maybe you know because we’ve sat together long enough to dig deep into what has formed us as people.

 Maybe you know because we’ve prayed together to understand God and life.

 But maybe you didn’t know and now it makes sense.

 If you know me as a wife, it makes sense that I’m completely in love with Joe because he loved all of my brokenness and he showed me his. We became each other’s compass. And he promised me we would be ok. And we are.

 If you know me as a mother, it makes sense that you see me delight in the small things I almost missed out on like knee socks and baby teeth and heirloom dresses. You know that I want my children to be kind and strong and faithful because those qualities are what they need to do the hard work in life. You know that I love on scraped knees, but I urge my children to get up and keep going because I know they have great purpose in this life.

 If you know me as a Christian, you’ve seen me weep over church baptisms and Away in a Manger. You know that I worked the New Baby Ministry just so I could celebrate every single birth before I had children of my own. You know that I find strength in the Old Testament mothers of Leah and Rachael and Hannah.

 If you know me as a teacher, you see that I love every child as someone else’s miracle, and that I try show them how to live into God’s design for them in the world.

 If you know me as a friend, you know I feel deeply for your hurts and joys because your struggles twinge the parts of me that feel with you. And to feel is to remember, and to remember is to know. 

 If you know me, you know that I struggle with containing my emotions, that I want to find the perfect word for everything, that I delight in the ordinary moments and stress over the important ones. You know that I worry that people only see an imposter who's trying too hard, and that I desperately want everyone to be happy with me all of the time. 

I have stories to tell and no idea whom they’re for. I'm feeling called to share and called to write. And this blog will be my dwelling place. For musings and missives and prayers and praise and prose. 

 But now you know why.
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