I can't believe it. I'm in love with a pop song.

I mean, if you know me, you'd be very surprised.  I'm not even a bit embarrassed, mostly because I want to sing this song to my children, the second they open their bleary eyes.  I want to whisper these lyrics into my child's ear, the one with severe sensory processing disorder, when a task or experience becomes just too much.  Right now, I say, "You're someone who has flown on airplanes.  You have started to try new foods. Remember when you had foot surgery?  Putting on your pants is going to be super easy!  You are God's child.  You accepted Jesus, remember?  So now you have all the power that created the ocean and Jupiter and redwoods living inside you."  I wanna see you be brave.   And, please put on your pants.

I want these lyrics for my friends, some in particular, who've been doing the Mama thing forever, who've forgotten who they are, otherwise.  Bravery dispels that history of silence created by exhaustion.

I want these lyrics for myself.  Is it immature to find solace in song lyrics?  I must be too old for this.  I want to be brave enough to let Jesus search me and know me, to see if there's any offensive dirt messing the place up, and I want to be brave enough to act on what's found, once He's lifted the carpet and shook it. Everybody's been stared down by the enemy, fallen for the fear and done some disappearing. I want to be brave enough to embrace friendships that are nurturing to me, that don't involve soul-censoring or explanation.  I want to be brave enough to participate in another art show, with big, boisterous paintings this time.  I want to be brave enough to write that novel with my author husband, and then brave enough to stand in the limelight, considerate and calm.

I don't do resolutions.  But I'll pick a focusing word for 2014.  Brave.

(Click on the link to hear the song and watch the adorable video!  I especially love the guy in the plaid shirt.  He reminds me of many of my sweet friends.)

Sara Bareilles - Brave