hold on tight.

we went north this weekend.  way north.  it was one of those getaways where you sort of forget about life and hold on to it more deeply than ever.  it was also the kind of weekend when you realize that God gives you the family he does for a purpose.  every in-law, cousin, aunt, uncle, and even their brothers and sisters; every single one of them putting a spark in your heart and touching your life so simply yet with infinite love.  it was perfect. i sat in the boat for hours.  i can’t even count the number of times bodies were flipped off the inter tube and how many times little blonde heads continuously proceeded to hang on for their lives.  holding on to the handles and to each other over and over and over.  i watched them from the front of the boat while a little girl in a pony dress rested her tiny body on my lap.  she fell heavily into my sun kissed body and wrapped her growing arms around my torso while she slept.  later, i slid my feet into water skis for the very first time in my life.  an enormous wave of confidence filled my body as i secured myself tightly to the faded yellow rope and listened to my husband whisper for me to 'hold on tight.'  somewhere between hanging on and surrendering myself to the water beneath me, i glided on top of it as if i'd done so for years.  as the sun began to settle conversations started to grow and i began to sway in a hammock near the water, snuggling in and holding on to my sweeter half.

i’m beginning to learn that whatever and wherever He sends you, whether that be for ten years or one day, you somehow learn to hold on.  there are so many times we want to let go of certain things that happen in our lives.  you pray for the hard times to disappear and even if they don’t you try to pretend that they do.  this weekend, however, taught me that letting go might not be where our energy should lye.  i think it should be used to hold on to all of the good things.  making connections with the earth, the people you're with, and finding yourself while doing so.  it's escaping what is normal and holding on to inter tubes and sleeping babes.  to hammocks and ice cream cones.  and when family pictures are taking forever it's being utterly grateful for the people next to you and holding that smile just a little bit longer.

we are humans because we love and we are family because we hold on.  everything exists purely because somewhere, someones is pulling the rope and another person is grasping it.

it is truly amazing what standing on the edge of a dock and lifting both of your arms towards a northern sky can do.  holding absolutely nothing and nearly everything at the same time.

the world is reaching for me and i am reaching back.