the two year old & the fairy party.

on her birthday, i wrote these few words:

t w o. two years ago, we were welcoming her into the world. relieved and overwhelmed by the blessing of our sweet baby that was such a gift after loss. in these two years, she has stretched my heart wide open and made such an impact on our family. her brother adores her, her daddy is smitten with her crazy, and her mama is so proud and thankful. every day with this beauty and her crazy eyes is such a gift. we are humbled to be entrusted with such a precious little heart. here's to many more birthdays with this sweet girl of ours. // also? I'd say she had a good day.

there is so much more i could say about this girl. she has brought joy to our lives in countless ways, and we are constantly amazed at her little person.

of course, we had sushi for her birthday because it's her favorite.
over the weekend, we had a fairy party to celebrate.

because it wouldn't have been complete without a few fairy wings and a little bit of sparkle.

love (& pixie dust).

10.23.14

dear c and n--

sometimes i can't even find the words for all the things i want to tell you. all the things i want to help you understand, navigate, believe, and embrace. but today i have them, today i have words about grace.

because these last few days have been full for us.
they have been busy with unexpected things.
they have been messy with hard lessons.
they have been exhausting and discouraging and have left me feeling lacking as your mother immensely.

but i hope that you can look back on the busy and the hard and the difficult, and see that you are loved. i hope that you can see my many faults and weaknesses less than the fact of how strongly i love you, as i learn to navigate these waters of mothering, day after day.

i hope you remember these days with grace.

_____

these past few days have been peppered with times when both of you have noticed moments where grace abounds, been affected by it in such sweet ways, and have extended it to me despite my countless imprefections.

and it has shown me yet again the power of the gospel.
the beauty of the gospel.
my need for the gospel.

and it has struck me to my core. and so, as i relearn how to cling to grace and give grace in these muddled days of emotion and training and loving and guiding, i hope that you remember the love and the kindness in the midst of the mistakes and the weakness.

i know you will remember the coffee, but i hope you remember the grace.

love,
mama.

10.14.14

dear c and n--

life is going to be hard sometimes.

you've already experienced it in different ways--sickness and hardship and exhaustion has encountered our little family more than we would have liked. and still, as the years grow that you live this life on earth, more hard times will come.

but there is hope. 
because just as there is sweet in the hard, there is hope in the hopeless.
and there is grace for it all.

what i want most in the world for you is that as you grow, you grow in your love for--and faith in--God. that your hearts would always be tender towards his word and his grace and his redeeming love.

if i leave nothing else behind as my legacy for you, i hope that it is this--that you love well, that you live fully, and that you cling to the one that ransomed you, through all the things that come your way.

your hearts are large and your souls are sweet. both of you have such a joy and love within that radiates out and affects those around you in great ways. let these be what drive you in your efforts as you grow, and as your pursue the one that loves you perfectly.

you are precious to me.
you are precious to your father.
and you even more precious to the God that was kind enough to give you both to us.

dear ones, cling to one who gives us grace and redeems our souls to glory.
never lose hope.

love,
mama.

10.12.14

dear n--

you are such a gift.
the gift that came to us after the sorrow of loss--a promise of the faithfulness of God.

you bring us so much joy, every day.

watching you grow is a magical thing. you've fallen into a rhythm of living already, and your character is decided and formed and strong.

your little person is so full of life and love and glitter--
so much glitter.

i never knew someone so small could be so opinionated and sure of her what she likes (have i mentioned the glitter?). i love your feistiness and how ready you are to tackle the world and all it brings. i maybe do not love the fact that you refused to say mama until just a few weeks ago, but i admire your resolve. :)

despite your fiery independence, you are kind and sweet and you love to cuddle. and you love to give kisses to all your favorites. a lot of kisses. you love deeply and fully and are so aware of those around you.

_____

i hope you never lose that spirit and determination and the comfort you have in your own skin. these things make you so unique, and a joy to be around. there will be times ahead when there will be those that come try to push you down or take away the spark that makes you thrive. don't ever let them.

because you are gorgeous, inside and out. 

you, my sweet girl, are a passionate force in my life and those around you. and i am honored to be a part of your story.

love,
mama.

10.7.14

dear n--

i hate when you're sick.

your fevers come so quickly, and the feelings of helplessness and anxiety follow right behind. the world seems so much more fragile when i hold your little body, lying limply and uncomfortably.

it makes me feel helpless.

motherhood is hard. it makes you feel thin and fragile and vulnerable in new ways. but, just as it is when you find someone that loves you for who you are--for your very soul and self--this new vulnerability and fragility is sweet, as much as it is terrifying.

perhaps one day you'll be a mother as well. and you'll feel the surge of bare, fervent love for a person that is so much like you, but still so much their own self. whatever your future holds, i know you'll love well.
_____

i've learned more of God's love for his children through having my own. and he has proven the faithfulness of his love for this little family of ours time and time again.

he carried you safely as he formed your beautiful self in my belly, he carries you now as you navigate these first few years in this big world, and he will carry you every day after, whatever comes your way.

and so today, i'm reminding myself that he is the one that held you first, and he will hold you always. i hope you grasp firmly this truth to heart early on, and never allow anxiousness to take hold when things don't go as planned, and when the things of life get hard.

this world and our bodies are fragile and vulnerable, but the moments are beautiful.
and they can be found in the ordinary, like these sick-day snuggles we share while you mend.

love,
mama.

10.5.14

 

dear c and n--

i miss you when you're gone.
even when you're gone for just a little bit.

i hope when you're grown it will be easier to give you enough space to let you live your lives in the way that God calls you to, even if it draws you far from where we are.

but there's not grace for that yet.
and so today, i miss you both.

your giggles.
your hugs.
and even the incessant questions (that's all you, c. :)).

it's so quiet here without you. and the quiet is just another reminder that you're not here with me. of the abundance of life that your little bodies leave in their wakes.

and so sometimes, when you're gone, the quiet isn't quiet at all. it's loud.
a reminder that there are parts of my heart absent from this place.

but reunions, they are always sweet.
and i hope, no matter where you go, they will always be.

love,
mama.

10.4.14

dear c and n--

sometimes life gets in the way of your plans.

just go with it.

love,
mama.

10.3.14

dear c --

the way you see the world is beautiful. at four years old, you live with such abandon, pursuing the things you love so fully and unashamedly.

you are you, fully.
you never measure yourself by others. and when others compare you, you are so beautifully unaware.
you don't even skip a beat.

and yet, your heart is so tender and always so fully open. though you act without worrying of what others think, you care deeply about consoling others when you sense that they are upset. you are quick to supply a concerned, kind word and a hug (and sometimes with freshly-cooked "pancakes" from your kitchen).

your ability to be so free and yet so sensitive to others is something that i admire so much. and is something that you have inspired me to grow in, just by being you these four years.

i hope this is something that you never outgrow. and i hope that as the years go on, you will always see the best in those around you, and that you always lack the self-awareness that can so quickly hinder your passion and the freedom to be yourself.

we live in a world that so quickly tries to conform you to external standards, but those standards are so often times lacking any merit, and can so quickly steal your joy--don't ever give in to them. because the things that really matter are the things that God cares about in his children, and calls us to cultivate--a humble soul, a loving, gentle heart, and the freedom to pursue the passions he has given you fully and without shame, for his glory.

and these, sweet boy, are the things in which you excel.

you are my hero. it is such a joy to see the world through your eyes.

love,
mommy.

10.2.14

dear c and n --

you two. 

where do i even begin? you are the sweetest, kindest, strangest, most beautiful little people i have ever met. i don't think i will ever be able to express just how much you both have my heart, just how unique and beautiful and precious you are, or how proud i am of you.

but i'm going to try my best to tell you just that. every single day.

and i hope that when you look back on these years, the countless times you've heard it will be etched into your memories, and that you will never falter in your surety of knowing that you are loved fiercely by both of us, and even more by the God that entrusted you to us.

you have rocked our world and have grown our hearts in the best way possible. you are our greatest achievements.

love,
mama.

31 days of letters to my little loves.

lately, i've been working to be present in my day, to cherish the moments i have with these sweet blessings i've been given, while trying to pour as much love and encouragement and thoughts and life into each of them.  it has been a busy but sweet season of connecting with each of them, but it has left me feeling a little discouraged in a particular way.

there are so many times in the day that my heart bursts with things i want to tell them, but these long days of the little years leave my words meaningless to these little minds that can't yet grasp them. i have such a passion to be a champion to each of them, to build them up in order to set them loose on this world and make much of it. and i know that the season for that will come soon enough (and probably quicker than i want it), but i don't want to forget these years and the words that are for them, and have been for them in these little years, before it's here.

and there's the reality that i don't know how much of their lives i'll be here for--i have learned that there is no guarantee of decades of life lived together in this world. and so i don't want to waste the days (and the words) i've been given.

and so today, i am taking the first step to act on this passion that's been stirring. i want to leave them years of words and prayers and my heart written out upon pages for them, to have no matter where their lives take them.

i want them to know that i have loved them since the beginning, and i want them to see themselves the way i see them. beautiful, stunning, fierce, compassionate, strong, and lovely.

and so this is where i'm going to start. i'm joining up in the 31 day writing challenge, committing to write every day for the month of october. i'm sure many days will be not much more than snippets of our day, or prayers for their future, or maybe just a blubbering mess of a mama heart that overflows when i catch a glimpse of them. and there will probably be days that i miss, but this is my first step in doing something that's been on my heart for some time. something is so simple to execute but has been put on the back burner for other (and many times less important) things.

so, here goes nothing. :)

love.

p.s. if you're joining in on the 31 day challenge, i'd love to hear what you're writing on!

to find the rest of the posts in this series, click on the sidebar image.

on learning to be silent.

"the one who doesn't know how or when to be silent doesn't know how or when to speak."   - donald whitney

there are words that won't come out.
so many thoughts swirling, stories still untold, and emotions that are begging to be let through words.

so many times i've tried to let them out, but nothing comes. i feel the urge to get my thoughts out, with such a strong desire to communicate in the way that my soul does best, and still my hands are still from writing and are clenched more than i'd like to admit. and still my mouth is forming words that aren't anywhere near what i'd hoped for.

some days only dry words lacking hope pass through my lips, unrestrained.

i've never been good at silence. i struggle to wade through five conflicting thoughts at once--some trivial, some life-changing, and a growing number anxious--and the noise quickly leaves me disoriented. so, i distract myself with anything i can and usually nothing that is beneficial for me--a chatter of netflix, social media, texting, and anything else i can grab onto mindlessly.

i know that none of these things are wrong on their own, and many have been tools of grace more than once in my life. but this perpetual stimulation of superficiality has only eaten away at my nerves and emotions. it has left them bare and misfiring.

whether i want to admit it or not, i need the quiet--my soul needs it. to sit in silence and listen, not to myself, but to the truth that is hidden in the depths. to meditate on all the words that God has spoken and use them as a lens, to filter all that the world and life and my own mind are throwing at me, instead of butting in--trying to drown out the chaos--with my own weak voice.

"come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." - matthew 11:28

i wish it came easily for me to be comfortable in the silence.
i wish that my ear was naturally tuned to hear that still, small voice speaking peace and grace to me.
instead my instinct is to struggle against the silence and when i do, a frustrated string of dissonant chords rifle around and cause so much chaos in my soul that i am only left more wanting, and raw.

as i've been working towards cultivating the discipline i know i need to overcome, i've started to see some of what's at the heart of this struggle. in my need for distraction from the noise, and for self-interjection during those quiet pauses, i'm fighting against God. it's in these times when i need my soul to be silent before him the most, and not surprisingly, where i find myself resisting it most fiercely. the more i resist, the more off-track i find myself.

and it usually ends in burst of hopeless, self-centered prattle, followed by a puddle of tears.

so here i am, in a new month and new day, and i'm trying to learn how to train these thoughts to cease (if only for little snippets of time). i'm working on opening my hands--letting the muscles relax when the urge to wring them comes--when the words don't and the chaos creeps in. and as i learn to stop my words that lack so much grace, leaving a pause for them to give way to graceful words that string themselves into prayers.

prayers for humility and strength, to not only be okay with the silence, but to embrace it. because i know that the more i seek (and ultimately find) rest in the arms of my God who is able to breathe peace into my mind, the more i will be comfortable in this skin, and with the words it breathes and writes.

it might be a little bit quiet for a little bit longer around here, but it's in hopes that fresh words will eventually flow and that they will be words full of life and hope, pointing to the source from where i draw my very breath.

love.

11.21.13

“It was November--the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul.” 

― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

there is something about the crisp air and quickly approaching holidays and the promise of twinkling lights that allows you to breathe deep, exhaling the weight of so many things. 

the past few days, i've found myself in a struggle between being overwhelmed with stress and being overcome with thankfulness.

but i want this season of thankfulness to win.
and breed a life of thankfulness in this weary heart of mine.

and with these two, i have more than enough reason to be well on my way.

love.

on readjusting (yes, again).

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” 

― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods

things have been just a bit silent around here as we readjust to life once again.

nothing much has changed or anything, but i feel like it's something that needs to happen in our little house from time to time.

just a little step back to figure out where we are with everything, and how to live our days out well.

the kids are growing and changing and becoming more and more of their own little people by the day. we're praying over and considering what might be best for us in the ways of business ventures and collaboration in the search for that creative-work-life balance.
we're researching serious diet changes and the implications it will have (or not have) on our family and budget.

but really, we're just trying to live and breathe and push into each other. freshly aware of the quickness of the days and the short-lived moments of this life.

because i need to remember more often that this life is fresh, full of changes and failing and learning and growing.

it's been refreshing for me to start to realize and embrace the fact that i need these seasons of reorienting to pepper the rest of my days on a regular basis. to brainstorm and evaluate how our lives should look, how to best serve those around me, and how to love them all well.

as always, i am always open to suggestions. life as a mother of two little ones has thus far not often ceased to bring new challenges.
but these days, i'm starting to expect it, and become more expectant for the growth that follows.
and for the grace to get there.

love.

on seeing beauty in weakness: a hiatus.

"For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him 
that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: 
there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach." 

— J.R.R. Tolkien (The Return of the King)

and just as fast as this started, it ends.

I knew that this topic was going to stretch me, and had hopes that I would grow during it. but I didn't expect the lesson to come so swiftly. or for it to be so raw.

friends, I am tired. and have been struggling to find the words for this challenge. some have come, but not enough--and not without their share of tears. 

I've been in the habit lately of stretching myself too thinly. asking too much of myself because of good intentions. thankfully I have a gracious husband that was kind to remind me that I can't do it all. or even nearly as much as I think I can. and, maybe I should consider taking a break, until I have enough to pour into it all that I want to.

so, I'm taking a break from this topic (before I even really get started). but I will be working on it in the background and when it's time, will be so excited to share it with you. for now, this blog will be simply little bits of our life and my heart. little snapshots of the beauty in my life.

because friends, I am weak.

I am overwhelmed by a lack of rest and an abundance of doing.

I am worn out.

but there is beauty in my weakness. because where I am weak, my god is strong.

so today, I am learning how to rest in the strength that is found in my redeemer.

and oh, it's humbling. 

I am not there yet. but today, I am choosing to see the beauty in my weakness. because there is something precious in knowing that though I am a flawed creature, there is hope. and that when come to the end of myself, there is only room to grow.

see you soon.

love.

on sleeplessness.

“What hath night to do with sleep?” 

― John Milton, Paradise Lost

if i didn't know better, i'd say that milton was in my head.

these last few weeks have been long. the days have stretched well into the nights, and the nights have lingered too long to not count for much at all. there are stolen moments of sleep, peppered among the cries of a tired baby girl, but the lack of anything substantial has been draining. naps happen in intervals, and life is just busy.

the truth? i've never been more exhausted in my entire life.

but this time has been one of such growth. of stretching beyond myself--my strength, patience, joy--and causing me to strive for change. not just change of circumstance, because despite the trying, sleeplessness still remains. but change of heart.

the nights might not be filled with the sleep i need, but they can still be filled with the grace i need.

there has been a gradual change happening, causing my nights (and days) to be filled with less anxiety, and more peace. joy even.

joy in the daily everythings. because i am deciding to remind myself of them often.

i have a list in my head. for the moments i become anxious, or angry even, that i can't have a moment to breathe when i'd like it. a list filled with good things, like the way that my children are healthy and growing and changing into precious little beings. the way the afternoon sun streams in through the living room windows as i cuddle one or the other as they take turns napping. and even the way the coffee brews and the rich smell wafts across the room throughout the day.

slowly, my nights are turning into purposeful times of sweet thankfulness as i feed my baby and calm her cries. 

i am in a place of few words these days, and instead have found myself in a place of ever-present grace, relying heavily on the daily manna gifted to me by a kind Father, who is showing me snippets of an incredibly blessed life, and sustaining me on a fraction of rest that i would have thought necessary to function.

and i'm learning that although my nights might not have much to do with sleep, they have much to do with refreshing grace.

because my strength is not really found in myself, and the more i realize that, the more i am able to walk through this hard season well. and so, i'd appreciate your prayers, friends. prayers for strength, sleep, and diligence.

diligence to make my nights count.

love.

on hitting reset.

last night proved to be one not made of sleep.

the little lady is teething, and has been for weeks with no progress in sight. the poor thing wakes constantly, whining, moaning and wanting to nurse each time. my mama heart aches for her--she still has a sweet and happy disposition despite her discomfort, but she's had a go of it for sure.

this morning, I was tired. really, it was less graceful than that and more like haggard. my groggy, scratchy voice cut through the morning air in more ways than one as I snapped at coen for being too rough with his sister. even though he wasn't trying to be mean. 

oh, his face. and oh, my heart. 

my selfishness smacked me in the face, along with a reminder that I have countless reasons to be thankful, joyful even, in the midst of this sleepless season. one of these reasons was staring back at me, his eyes full of hurt.

I realized that I needed to hit the reset button. 

____

recently, I read somewhere (I wish I could remember where) about the idea--and sometimes the necessity--of "hitting reset" on your day. just starting it over, and letting the first attempt(s) go. I tend to fall easily into self-pity when I feel I've been less than I should, and this idea of just wiping the slate and starting fresh was revolutionary. but honestly I hadn't given much thought to it since.  

but today, I did. and then I had to hit it a few more times. but you know what? it worked. my attitude shifted, and my goal changed. it was no longer to have my children be quiet so I could rest, but that my speech and tone and actions were loving and my heart was thankful and that my children felt loved. 

this. this active pursuit of changing my thoughts to reflect what I know is right and who I want to be, is what I want to win out in those moments of weakness. to turn from my sin, instead of dwelling on it.

in my devotions this morning, I read this: 

"fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, and you are mine." 

- Isaiah 43:1b

I want to rest in this, remembering whose I am, and who loves me right where I am. I am his, despite how many times I have to start my day over. and I can start my day over, because I am his. 

love.

8.22.13

"when the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies."

- j.m. barrie, Peter Pan

i've heard this quote a hundred times, but now i really get it. i'm pretty sure this is what he had in mind.

goodness, i love this face.

love.

seizing a moment (or at least a half).

confession: i don't take very good care of myself.

i've been blessed with a generally-healthy disposition, i avoid doctors unless it's unavoidable and, at times, i'm pretty sure i think i'm invincible. but the reality is that i barely exercise, drink more coffee than water in a day unless i pay attention, and get sick pretty frequently. 

yes, we've had our share of crazy around here the past few years. we've lived through serious health issues, church planting, financial strain, losing a baby, welcoming a baby, and the normal bits of life mixed in. so yes, i think i've been perpetually exhausted for the past three years.

but it's more than that.

when it comes to caring for myself (both physically and spiritually), i've learned how lazy i can really be. it's so much easier to just watch a movie after running around with these two little ones, keeping up trying to get a handle on laundry, the dishes and the food off the floor. there are so many excuses readily available for me to pick and choose from, and allow me to forgo what i really need. 

it's come to a head lately--my body has been freaking out on me, and my emotions have been of the out-of-control-barely-hanging-on variety more than i'd like to admit. so, something had to change. and i've made some progress! i've been working out fairly regularly (for me at least), limiting myself to two (okay, sometimes three) cups of coffee a day, and doing some other things to help get myself in a little better shape. it's helped some, too.

but what i've realized is that my heart needs to be in the right place, along with my motivation, for any of it to really take effect, or even really matter. let me explain: 

i want to be a good steward of all the things i've been blessed with--this body, this mind, this husband, these children, and this life. but most importantly, i want to be a good steward with the most precious gift i've been given in the redeeming love of the gospel. 

and if that's my desire, then i need to start there. with my soul. and know that the rest will follow, as an overflow of the heart.

so what does this look like for me right now?

one//my quiet times have been short, but sweet. right now i'm mostly just following the #shereadstruth plans (i highly recommend it, ladies), with a little bit of spurgeon's morning & evening when i can. 

two//i think more of others when i consider what to eat or not eat, whether it's to ease my breastfed baby's gas, thinking of how i want to have energy to love and raise my children well ten years from now, or wanting my husband to delight in the fact that i am his. 

three//i think again of the long-term effects of not exercising when given the opportunity, and have found myself more resolute in taking time (even if it's twenty, interrupted minutes) to condition this aching body.

it's nothing special, or even impressive. but i'm starting somewhere and i've seen so much fruit already. i've witnessed a transformation in the way i see things, the way i respond (or more importantly, don't respond) and am so encouraged. 

i feel as if i have been refreshed in my vision for my life, in so many areas. recentering my thoughts on what matters most has allowed for all the other things to dim, just a little, and it has wet my appetite for more. 

so how do i want to grow? 

one//spend longer in the word, and incorporate extended time for payer, journaling and memorizing scripture. i also want to be working through a book in the evenings (like maybe finishing one thousand gifts, finally).

two//cut out more sugar and maybe some caffeine from my day. sugar (usually in the form of coffee) is my crutch when i tired or overwhelmed, and just makes me feel more gross. i've known i need to cut it out for awhile now, so it's time.

three//exercise three times a week. even if it's short. just that basic discipline alone will help me achieve a lot of my goals, i know. and while it's still shoot out, be prepared to see a lot of instagrams of yoga mats and atoning yoga. 

if you think of it, ask me how i'm doing in these areas. lord knows, i need accountability. :)

love. 

8.8.13

"How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, 

and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe?

How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, 

and narrow to be everything to someone? 

No. 

A woman's function is laborious, 

but because it is gigantic, 

not because it is minute. 

I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; 

I will never pity her for its smallness.” 

- g.k. chesterton

counting these moments (and this task) as precious today. lest they fly past without imprinting themselves on my heart.

love.

overwhelmed.

"rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. do not quench the spirit."

 - 1 thessalonians 5:16-19 

you're never done growing.

i know this far from being a new concept, but it's a fresh reminder for me today.

there has been a battle waging in my heart these past few days..
a tugging.
a battle.

between self.
selfishness versus selflessness.

at times, i feel a little crazy. 

i bounce between thankfulness and thanklessness.

sometimes within the same breath.

speaking truth to myself in the midst of a struggle is not something i'm very good at.

or more accurately, actually listening to the truth i'm spewing at myself more often than not is a weakness i still have.

still, i have been overwhelmed by how blessed i am. over and over. because, i forget.
so incredibly blessed.

by our little family.

with two healthy children.
in our little house.
full of more things than we need.
full of healthy food for us to eat.
and so full of love.

what more do i need?

and yet, it's just not enough. more than i'd like to admit.

so, what more do i need?

i need the holy spirit. 

to breathe life into my bones.
to call me to the Word and to meditate on its promises that can satisfy like nothing else.
to turn this heart back into clay, when the dry air of life starts to harden it into stone once more.
to remind me of the cross.

so that extending grace is my first response.
because i see all the grace extended to me.

grace that i didn't deserve.
that i don't deserve.

but by God's kindness, is mine.

so today, will you life me up in prayer?
i want this desire to be my reality.

before the goodness of this life gobbles up my attention once again.

because this good is not the greatest.
this temporal is not eternal.

this life will not in itself satisfy.

and that, my friends, is just fine by me.

love.