“Last-borns tend to be self-centered, attention-seeking people who will wrestle the spotlight from others if need be.” – from an article on birth-order at a parenting site
Not so, our Stormkins. She never fit the profile of the typical baby of the family. She, in fact, nurturing spirit mixed with careful thoughtfulness, is adored by her siblings all, for she has enriched their lives and adds to them as people. She never wrestled spotlights from them nor manipulated to take their place. She is loved deeply for how she has loved them. She is loved fiercely for all the ferociousness with which she has protected and covered and served and loved them.
And on her birthday, they can’t say enough. She is festooned with praises, this particular baby-of-the-family.
Last year on Mother’s Day – I have the black eye. Stormie is flawless.
Can you even imagine what it is like to get to be her parents?
She lives in our town. She lives in a house she is making her own and it is designed with detail, though it may seem quite casual because it is so relaxed and unpretentiously welcoming. But it’s reflective of her utter sophisticated coolness. Everything around her, including the giant German Shepherd, Saber, is structurally Stormie. Light rebounding from carefully curated usable collections of her heart and soul: her books, her kitchen tools and dishes, her music and her scents – all clues to a most unique and copacetic home owner. No one else could possibly live in that particular early 1900s house. It pulses with the beat of Stormie’s life-giving existence, her panache, her style. Don’t tell her I told you she has one. She would blush. :)
Stormie – as tagged on FB
“Tax-Day” forever redeemed. 1986 a best-year ever.
April 15 was never the same after 1986. The IRS never once more could claim this day, for this was the day our family became **7** and it was perfect: Dave and Jeanie (aka dad and mom), Tara**Stephanie**Tredessa**Rocky and finally, fantastically, phenomenally ~ Stormie. Our Stormie Dae (it really was icy and blizzardy on the day she came). And for that matter, of all the things that happened in 1986, jobs and a new house and church stuff and life in general, the *best* thing of the year was having Stormie, a sweet-natured baby who has grown up to become a trustworthy, responsible, longsuffering, compassionate, missions-minded, loving, doting, worshiping, praying, wry, funny, intuitive, deeply-connected, intensely-loyal, attentive, utterly-amiable and oh-so-likeable girl. I guess she is a woman, but she is my baby girl, too.
“Hold tight to the sounds of the music of living, happy songs from the laughter of children at play…We have this moment today.” I sang this, holding you, when we dedicated you to the Lord (a Gaither song)
Good grief – how did you turn out so well? Must be all those older sisters and that older brother helping hone and shape you. :)
So, my sweet baby girl – of course I bless the day you were born. And I bless you.
Let us pray on the occasion of the celebration of your birth and the life you are living:
I pray you live, Stormie, take the deepest breath, inhale the Holy Spirit, the ruach of the LORD, and be energized and live. **Live!** Live deeply and hidden, unseen and true. Live loudly and bright and in the light, in the open, fearlessly. Live to delight the One. And live to make happy the places in you only you and your Maker know anything about. Be quickened and energized with that same power that raised Christ Jesus from the dead – let your mortal body reflect the glory of God (remember our homeschool rap from 1 Cor. 6.20, “therefore – glorify God in your body,” haha).
I see His countenance on you, my sweet. I see a twinkle, a sparkle dancing in those eyes. The stars are casting light on your nights, the sunglow doesn’t match your days. Damn self-sufficiency, baby-love. You could do that in your sleep. You possess fortitude and ability and are able, but you, my daughter, were meant for the wild passions of the things of God. You have tasted eternity on your tongue. Your hair has been blown by the winds of the Holy Spirit. Your heart expands in the Presence, your longing for the Divine opens doors to see Him face to face, to be so close you hear His still, small voice with utter clarity.
You are like David. He did not strive to come out from among the rest. He was doing what he did. He was honoring God and singing songs that blessed the Lord – when no one heard, and no one saw. And God invited him to come out, to come up, to be seen, to do what he was born to do and was already doing in secret places. That is how it is, my sweet. God sees you. He knows you. It’s ok when He calls you forth. You’re no Johnny-come-lately. You are true and real, you are an honest version of who God says you are.
And all the things the enemy has ever done to try to take that away – well, to *h*with the devil. God rebuke the enemy on your behalf, I pray! May God be your Protection, your Guide, your Guard, your Friend, your Father, your All. And when He invites you to the seat of honor, all of us will know why and we’ll be cheering loudly and raucously, Stormie’s fans and family, with hearts fairly bursting in love.
I bless the day you were born and all the days you have left, in Jesus’s Name, in His great love and grace, and with gratefulness for the forgiveness and healing we have received for all the wounds and wrongs and sins {redemption has come – He has made all things new!}, my darling daughter – in HIS name, I bless you! Amen.
