Our kids are dirty.

Like sometimes we forget to take baths for days dirty.

Like something smells and it’s David’s head dirty.

Or Savannah’s hands.

Ew.

But it wasn’t always that way.

For David’s first birthday we gave him a cake all for himself.

We thought he’d dive right in and we could take pictures.

But David didn’t know what to do with it.

He looked at the cake. He looked at his hands. He looked at us.

He was our first-born baby, and at the time, our only son.

And so, at the time, he was clean.

Six years and two babies later, David still likes his hands clean.

But that’s about all.

And to be honest, if his hands are clean then we are having a good day.

Because if three kids don’t wear us out, cleaning up after them will.

So we are learning how to get dirty.

We are letting ourselves go.

Into the cake. Into the rain. Into the mud.

Underneath the earth.

Because dirty means discovery.

 It means texture and color and finds us just as we are.

Dirty lets the kids wear stained clothes that don’t match.

And dirty has taught us that our egos aren’t real.

But worms are. Flowers are. Birthdays are.

And everything is growing.

Everything is dying.

And we get to be a part of it.

It’s almost Christmas and it’s been a hard year.

Josh lost his dad a few weeks ago and I lost mine last September.

Nothing will ever be the same- especially birthdays and holidays.

But still, it’s a time to celebrate.

To sing and blow out candles and thank God for His life, for our life!

He gives us a cake all for ourselves.

It’s up to us to dig in…