6

My Hope – 2017

Last year, I had the word REST circling through my mind. I felt like I had so much to learn. I have lived  a rather driven life. Performance was huge. Fear of coming up short or missing a key point in life kept me second guessing myself and scrambling to stay on top and upright. 

Having my life turned upside down and inside out and shaken around like crazy had me in a whole new location in life. I needed to REST. It wasn’t that easy. In fact, some of the resting was more of a tug of war between my heart and God’s Will. He won 😊 He’s patient like that, loving me when I’ve worn myself out of options and logic. I’m still learning to rest, but I had an amazing thing happen last year….one of my biggest struggles and tug of wars was answered in an amazing way when I RESTED in God and let Him take control. It leads straight into 2017. 

We are having a baby. In three short months, we could be looking into the eyes of our littlest son. I’ve been using the word HOPE a lot these last 6 months. 


We HOPE for a healthy baby. 

We HOPE he doesn’t have NCS.

We HOPE he can enjoy Life. 

HOPE. It’s what I hang onto. 

It’s also one of those words that roll off people’s tongues like ‘Love’  or Have a good one’ or ‘See you later’. It’s simplified and the value of it doesn’t always pack the punch it has. 

Hope: 

:to cherish a desire with anticipation :

: trust : 

:to expect with confidence:

There is is much hanging on HOPE. So much emotion and sorrow and joy and anticipation and all around the edge is the dusky shade of unknown.

 It’s an anchor of a word. 

A ‘hang on’. A ‘don’t give up’.  A ‘do or die’.

While part of me hangs onto that glorious word, and other part of my heart still cringes just a bit. My mind still does these crazy little games when I hear myself saying, ‘we hope for a healthy baby,’ because if we HOPE for health and he isn’t healthy, is it worth hoping? Did that hope not mean anything? Would we have been better off to avoid the highs of hope, the dreams of hope, and simply turn off our hope monitor? Shut it down? Stifle it? Because if he isn’t healthy….then will he have heard us say ‘we hope he’s healthy?’ Will he somehow feel like he is a disappointment? Are we being unfair to Kierra’s memory to hope for a healthy child like Kobe instead of fighting all the challenges that she did? It makes you feel like a bad parent because you want to embrace both your children’s lives the same, but you can’t wish for the quality of life Kierra had over Kobe’s healthy life.

It’s hard to put into words. Really. I’m not getting this across properly, I don’t believe. And I’m nearly laughing out loud because it sounds so outrageous. I mean, of COURSE theres nothing wrong in hoping for health for your child. You see, I just loved Kierra so much and she was just so ‘Kierra’ and I miss her so much. She was perfect…in her own wildflower child way. Just like Kobe is perfect in his own unique way 😊

It’s complicated. While I loved Kierra wildly, I also Hope for a healthy baby. For their sake and ours. Totally natural, I know. 

BUT. I still feel like if this little guy has NCS, I need to quickly swallow all my ‘ hope for health’ words for fear he’ll feel like he’s a disappointment. For fear that others will look at me with pitying eyes and wonder if my hope has been totally misplaced and broken. 

I feel silly even admitting this. I also see I’ve used the word Fear. That word doesn’t even belong anywhere near the same sentence of Hope. Naming fear for what it is takes its power away though, I’ve found. So fear…..here I come! You better get ready to tremble in your shoes and sceedaddle out of here. There’s just no room for you. 


Hope and fear don’t go hand in hand. 

Hope is gorgeous. Hope is full of life and expectation. It spreads radiance everywhere. 

Fear is dark. It’s binding. It grips like a vise. It doesn’t let go and it hides in the smallest most innocent looking places. 

Fear holds you back. Hope embraces with  welcoming arms.

Fear paralyzes. Hope releases and sets free. 


I know without a shadow of a doubt that we will love our little baby…no matter what. I know we will live like there’s no tomorrow. 

I also know that nothing in life is a guarantee. That health and life are a gift from God. That every life has a purpose and that sometimes Gods glory shines the brightest in the hardest. So while I continue to HOPE I also pray. I pray that this baby would bring GLORY to God. That above all else….that God would be glorified. It’s scary. Because I feel like I’m opening our lives to pain. I also know that Gods Glory is revealed through joy and miracles and amazing health and gifts. 

I know that the only way I can face the future is by RESTING in HOPE. Diagnoses will not win. Hope will not be broken. It is born in Heaven and resides in Heaven and will be filled in Heaven. That’s eternity! 

These verses from Hebrews are a life line for me…

  ” So God had given both his promise and his oath. These two things are unchangable because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the HOPE that lies before us. 

That HOPE  we have as an anchor of the soul, an anchor that can neither break nor drag. It passes in behind the veil. Jesus has already gone in their before us.”

And you know, if Jesus has already gone in there before us, we have no reason to fear and Hope is all we have left. 

Pure, joyous, accepting HOPE. 

God’s Glory and Hope. 

4

Christmas Muse


Because tonight I’m missing Kierra. Five years ago this was us. Snowy Christmas was here  and we stayed warm by our fire and played with babies and fed bottles and changed diapers and drank coffee. I had no idea that Christmas season how life would change in the next year. I had no clue that just around the corner was looming some pretty hard, life changing events. It was a season and it’s gone. I miss it. Kobe was only 4 months old when Kierra became a ‘frequent flyer’ at the hospital. 

Now he’s five and Kierra has been in Heaven for nearly three long years. 


Call me a pushover mom. That’s what I feel like with my little Kobe sometimes. When he begs for one more candy this Christmas or one more game, I have a really hard time saying No. Its those blue eyes and the logic he always throws in . I have a really hard time setting boundaries and telling him to play by himself for awhile because I remember how I felt when my older siblings wouldn’t play with me when I was little. I remember my little girl that would be 6 and I wonder what she would like to play right now. I remember all the days I missed watching Kobe grow and all the times I missed playing lighthearted baby games and talking gibberish to him. I want to love  him and hold him and cherish him.

 Can a mother drown a child in love? 

And then I wonder if my tolerance has made him soft. For instance, while his taste buds are quite amazing and his critiques of my cooking make me laugh, there’s also a point where you eat what’s on your plate and don’t make a fuss because there is less sugar then one remembers. Take for instance, this amazing rolled pancake at Paul’s Pancake Parlor in Missoula. 


He’s still remembering it and wishing for another one πŸ˜‰ And do mine taste like that? No way …because I don’t see the point in making a sugar loaded pancake for a sweet tooth  πŸ™‚ except for on very special occassions. So when I use heavy whipping  cream and raspberries and don’t add sugar, it’s such a disappointment because it DOESNT TASTE THE SAME! lol! But now I’m way off subject. 

I find myself wanting to lavish on him partly because I can’t on Kierra. I wonder if he’s spoiled. 

Now don’t get me wrong. I get frustrated. Seriously. And then he goes through his list of questions which doesn’t always help my mood. “Mom, are you frustrated? Are you angry? Are you disappointed? Are you sad? Are you happy?” Seriously. It’s not always fun to be interrogated by a five year old when your not sure exactly how you feel yourself. But yes, I am thankful he’s talking about feelings and dealing with them πŸ˜‰ 

When he finds fault with every item I cook it’s a bit too much πŸ˜‰ sometimes.  I told him today that he didn’t like anything I made today (except candy. Lol) and he looked surprised and a bit embarrassed and promised to eat the rest of his food without a fuss. 

He came up to me and told me he has the best gift yet and he gave me a kiss on my cheek. See why I love him?  πŸ˜

Now where am I going with this? 

I rocked him to sleep tonight. Seriously. Would  I do that if I had three kids under 5? Most likely not. But I did because I could. He filled up my lap and the rocking chair and even if it wasn’t too comfy on my expanding belly, I couldn’t help myself. He was so cute and cuddly and Kobe. He was so delighted to be cuddled. His face is taking on a young boy look. His baby chin is getting square and his grin more handsome then cute. And I know in a blink he will be too big to hold. So I love him the way I know he wants to be loved. Cuddling and songs and snuggles against my soft Christmas sweater. 

I’m still trying to find the happy medium in gently pushing him a bit toward independence and still loving him as my little boy. (For example, He went to sleep on his own for years when he was younger and he still does many times. But I know time doesn’t stand still and we are not promised tomorrow night so tonight, i rocked) 

I’m not exactly sure of all the dynamics of what healthy independence looks like but I do know I am so blessed that he is ours. To have a child that I can tuck into bed at night. To be called ‘Mom’ and to be loved. 

I miss my little girl tonight. I sit and dream about holding her again. I dream about gifts for two children and hugs and snuggles with two and the happiness and joy I got to experience with two babies for three Christmas’ in a row. I’m so privileged to have another small one, nudging inside me, reminding me that what I think isn’t possible can be real and alive. 

Death cannot take our memories or our love. 

It can change us but it can’t extinguish the flame of hope and peace that Jesus brings. And though ‘a spear shall pierce thine own heart’ was prophecied to Mary, so long ago, she still loved. She still gave. She still believed. 

No matter what spear has pierced your heart this year, my friend, my prayer for you is that the healing of this Christ -who became Flesh AND DWELT AMONG US… will be upon you. That it will run straight over the wounds this life has left. That it will bring mercy and grace and beauty will rise out of the broken. He came for us, you know. Us….who need a Saviour. 

Thank you, Jesus! πŸŽπŸ’žπŸ’

4

Be A ChildΒ 

It’s getting late but sleep hasn’t found me yet. I haven’t written in a long time. I know. I keep shoving it off. Thinking that eventually I will find my voice again. Call it processing life or writers block or busy holidays or laziness. Whatever it was…I’m back. Because when I can write, I feel alive. Life makes more sense. 

I have a whole huge Rubbermaid tote of journals (plus more πŸ˜‰) that I poured my heart out in as I grew up. I remember my very first tiny journal with the cute cat and the clasp lock and the purple binding. I was 8 years old and it was a dream birthday gift that I adored. I still have it. When I was eight, my journal and my rollerskates were my favorite things. I felt alive when I flew down the country road on those skates. I felt deep happiness and thrills when I stroked the gold gilted  journal pages. It was fun to be eight! 

A kid at heart. Growing up among animals and creeks and a whole farm to play on . Dreaming of fresh strawberry pie with mounds of whipped cream. Sitting in my favorite magnolia tree with the perfect y shaped branch that cradled my little self. It was there that I dreamed dreams of rescuing babies and wrote poems about nature. 

Tonight spoke deeply to my heart. Pastor Steve spoke about children. About how we place kids in a box by thinking they will eventually grow up and be the people that make a difference. Like they are on some kind of probation until they get it all together and figured out. But God told Isaiah…”Don’t say that I am just a child….you will go where I send you!” We NEVER have to figure it all out before we can bring God glory!  

You are not ‘just a child either’. In fact, Jesus said the ONLY way to get to heaven is to become as little children. Pastor Steve gave a wonderful example of this by having a whole group of kids gather at the front of the church. He asked them questions, since they are the MASTERMIND of QUESTIONS! πŸ˜„ They were so honest. So innocent. So point blank and uncomplicated in their answers. No agenda or hidden meanings. No fear of saying the wrong thing or embarresment that their favorite thing about Christmas was gifts😊 And yes, Jesus was of course mentioned as well πŸ‘

Then they sang a beautiful song for us. Now I know that every mother immediately looks for her child in a group. That her heart does this crazy little happy dance when their eyes meet. But when I saw my little Kobe up there, my heart did all these crazy jumps. Because, you see, he was our surprise child. Our miracle baby. His was the first voice I heard call me Momma. His were the first steps I watched wobble across the floor. It hurt at the same time because his older sister can’t show me the wonder of it until we get to Heaven. While she should have been the first to show me these things, God created her for a different kind of wonder and glory. Her life was a pure, living testimony of God’s love. And she was so wonderfully beautiful! She was so good at it! 

I sat there, weeping through the song. Wishing Kierra could be up there with him. Wishing he had a sister to share Christmas joy with. I wept because he could just as well have been nonverbal and held in my arms tonight. He could have never taken a step, or lifted one hand to heaven in worship. But he was singing and worshiping God with his little hands raised high as he sang. He was alive and moving and smiling and standing proudly with his friends. While part of me wept for what Kierra will never do here on earth, another part of me wept with happiness for him and the miracle I was watching right before my eyes. Our child. Was lifting his eyes to heaven and praising His Creator. 

//Come all ye faithful

See the love, see the grace

That is born unto us tonight

Come all ye broken
See the love see the hope

That restores everything that’s been lost
In the silence of the night,

All the stars bow down
Hear the angels sing?

Hallelujah
Jesus Christ is born unto us this day
Hope has come to us tonight

Death is drowned out by His light
Hope is here and He’s alive

Takes our pain and lifts our eyes
Come all ye weary

See the peace see the joy

That’s been born unto us tonight
Come sons and daughters and rejoice in His love
For in His name the world will find its hope
In the silnece of the night,

All the stars bow down
Hear the angels sing?

Hallelujah! //-by Generation Unleashed.

I like to think Kierra listened from Heaven and even joined him. I like to think she smiled and danced and twirled in joy. If she could see me now, I think she would show me how she worships. How her pure child heart is exactly what Heaven needed. How her glory brings God glory. 

I hold this truth close to my heart. Be you. Bring glory to God in whatever way He has created you.

Be simple. Be real. Never stop asking and marveling in wonder. Be a child. 

2

Your Face Is All I See

Sometimes it blindsides you. The slightest movement or the quickest glance. You are propelled back to a specific time and a specific place. A memory that brings back floods of memories and you nearly drown in the magnitude of it. 

Something as simple as a red binder with a yellow paper sticking out of the top, tucked under a lady’s arm at Barnes and Noble. The exact color of your daughter’s ISFP binder. And the yellow paper sticking out the top…so familiar. A lady’s laughter in the coffee shop, and you see in a glance that her life is anything but typical. A man (presumably her husband since she has two kids with her) follows haltingly behind, his hand on her shoulder. The children talk and do the little childish skips and quick, carefree movements only children can do, and they are perfectly comfortable and at ease with the strange sight of their mother leading their father and the mother laughs freely. Happiness and ease exude from them. And they look like a wonderful family in a complex world and you realize that was you…happy and accustomed to the strange grunts and unperceived noises issuing from the one you loved. 

Maybe I noticed these things today because my heart was tender. This morning in church, a lovely couple found seats a few rows in front of us. Their daughter was beautiful and her hand was turned at a strange angle as they walked in. No one else (except maybe a therapist πŸ™‚ would have noticed that the hand and forearm were turned outward slightly. My heart started pounding and the music around me just faded into the background as I stared at that sweet girl. When I looked closer, she  actually wasn’t so remarkable. Just another cute little girl. To her mommy she was everything though. Just a daughter should be. As her mother turned her around to adjust her in her lap, her arm turned also and the backward looking twist disappeared. 

But that one glance was all I could see. My eyes were glued to her, although I politely tried hard not to stare. I can nearly guarantee that girl is perfectly healthy, but that one strange position took me back to another girl and another day that seemed a  life time ago. My little Kierra. 


I wanted my daughter with her underarm showing. I wanted to have to sit in the back of the sanctuary because she didn’t enjoy crowds. I wanted her wiggles in my arms and her beautiful hair falling around her face and smooth and soft under my fingers. I stood in silence through the song, tears welling up from the bottom of my heart. My eyes filled slowly. And finally, the tears leaked out and ran down my face. 

I looked at the little girl in front of us again and knew in my heart she didn’t resemble my daughter at all but some strange longing and attraction drew me. Her mommy held her close and loved her so sweetly and the little girl snuggled close and relaxed. And while I missed my own little girl so so much, a strange thing happened. I had never felt like this ever before. Not in this context. Not this strongly. Not in this way. 


My heart was bursting with thankfulness. Thankfulness to the beautiful Loving Heavenly Father who had given me Kierra to love. To call my daughter. To hold and cherish. To laugh and cry with. She taught me to be a mother. She taught me what a daughter is. She taught me the joy of color and pretty things and soft music. She taught me to love to stay at home and the wonderful gift of family. She taught me so much. She taught me what love means. Unconditional love. Love that lets go and still keeps loving and never dies. My heart was so thankful to God. So thankful for the gift He gave me when He gave Kierra. There are no words to explain the depths of how her short three years have changed me. Unraveled me. Elated me. Healed me. And loved me. And it was and still is all a gift from God. 

As I sat, with all these emotions of aching for her, and thanking God for her, and tears running down my face, the music gently changed and the beautiful words washed over me and around me as people throughout the church sang ….

Lord, your beautiful!

Your face Is all I seek

And when your eyes are on this child,

Your grace abounds to me…”

And somehow, the words rolled into a lovely picture in my mind, the beauty of the Lord, the joy on His face as He gazes at beautiful Kierra in Heaven….

the joy and the beauty

th joy and the beauty

And the grace.

As the song ended, one of the pastors got up to speak and spoke of the loving heart of God to us…His children. How He delights in us and keeps His eye on us. How He LOVES us. I can’t remember the words, but I remember the meaning deep in my heart. He is our Father. He loves us tenderly. Gently. Completely. He would never ever allow us to be hurt without something good in mind.  He weeps through our pain with us. And He holds me. Just as He holds my daughter. 


Thankyou, my God! Thank you for the GIFT of KIERRA RAINE!

5

Trust

What do you do when God asks you to trust Him?

How can we trust a God we do not see? 

How can we trust when sad things happen…things that seem totally controllable to God? 

The definition of trust is a bit different then I realized. Websters puts it like this: assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something. 

Trust doesn’t mean good things are going to happen. It doesn’t mean that you will understand. The character of God can be trusted, though. His plan can be trusted. Isolating certain episodes in His plan and deciding not to trust simply because those happenings do not fit our best personal agenda is not trusting. It’s not even valuable. 

It’s not easy. This trusting. Sometimes it’s the last thing you feel. Circumstances shake your world and situations out of your control break your heart. If you can just look beyond the awful and the hard and the pain. If you can believe the next chapter may be different. If you can hope that joy will come in the morning, if you can trust in the character of God…then you have it all! 

Over the past year my trust has wavered at times. Future dreams looked worthless. I kept hoping and praying but even that was rather half hearted at times. There were doors in my heart I would close because they were too difficult to look into and see the dream. Doors that seemed would never ever open again. And when the gentle wind of thought nudged them open, I would sadly click the latch again. 

I’m still not exactly  sure how to face broken dreams, because looking into their depths can break one and sink one into the deep abyss of depression. Not acknowledging them can leave huge walls that block out the sun and so much good waiting for us to embrace.

I believe in trust. Trust in God’s goodness through the sad and happy chapters of our life. 

Giving my dreams to God has been crucial to survival in life. He created me with dreams and personal gifts and specific interests in life for a reason. Life may not fulfill those dreams the way I thought it would, but life is still beautiful. My greatest joy and fulfillment will be in Heaven when I will realize in a whole new level why I am created the way He planned. I will live in a fullness and completeness I only long for here. It’s what I was created for. 

It’s what you were created for also! 

 

We are in a wonderful new chapter right now. A tiny life is being formed and a tiny baby is  coming to join us. One of those dreams I kept gently closing the door on, has opened. It is beautiful. It is amazing. It is a miracle. Every child is a miracle. And this on is no exception. 


Kobe was beside himself with wonder and excitement when we told him he would be a big brother. “You mean I’m going to be a big brudder?” He asked incredulously. “But I never WAS a big brudder!”

And later…” I want a little sister. I want another Kierra. And I will tuck her into bed.” He is practicing on being grown up since he will be a big brudder. He talks about how the baby will sit in the back of the Jeep beside him and how he will give her (or him πŸ˜‰) a bottle. 

We don’t know what is the future any more the we know if this babe will be healthy or not. But we have peace! We have HOPE! We have an amazing awe spreading over us. It’s like we are wrapped in a cocoon of goodness and peace. 

Sometimes you come to a place in life where God seems to whisper, “Trust me.” Sometimes you think you are crazy from a sensible, logical view. But every choice to trust is always the best one. God doesn’t always ask us to do what we think He will. He doesn’t always ask us to move out in big faith making a huge ripple in the faith pool. Sometimes His trusting is learned in waiting. Sometimes His trusting is learned in the Silence of God. Sometimes His trusting is learned in loss. And sometimes it’s learned in a beautiful new life. 

There are so many variables. So many ‘what ifs’ but there is only ONE GOD . When Jesus says we can trust Him, then we can…. No matter what life brings us. 

2

AugustΒ 

I love the month for so many reasons and this year, it was packed full of change and good times with friends. 

We said Goodbye to three friends and their families who are all leaving the state/country. We’re going to miss them so much, but life takes you on adventures you never dreamed on and we cheer them on with God’s blessing! 

Our friends from Pennsylvania, Merle and Sierra and their little Andre came for a few weeks also. We had so much fun with them and spent lots of time exploring Montana and reveling in nature. We were in parts of Glacier for two days and absolutely loved the stunning scenery there this time of the year. 


The mountains on top of Going To The Sun road were covered in wildflowers and the day was perfect for a little hike back toward Hidden Lake. 


I wanted to stay forever 😊 I think it’s a tiny bit of what Heaven will be likeπŸ’• 

We went to Many Glacier the next day. It was windy and a bit chilly but there was a lovely super easy walk around a lake and the water shone torquoise and wild.


Stephen spotted bear on the distance mountain slope and we saw a herd of big horn sheep up close. I loved this part of Glacier with its untamed ruggedness and want to go back again and explore it some more! 

We explored a ghost town, went mini golfing, and took the four wheelers back to the Little Belts.

This was a baby walker back in the day πŸ˜€ can you imagine all the law suits we’d have today over itπŸ˜‚

Back roads are the best πŸ˜‰


The Little Belts were beautiful as always! The smell of pine and sun and fresh breeze can’t be beat! 



When I see the vast wilderness God spread, and the intricate detail to the ferniest moss, my heart worships. He cares about all the details of our life too! The big and the glorious events and the tiniest worry we may be facing today! 

He’s got us! And if He clothes the wildflowers in all their glory, how much more will He care for us!!

0

Chasing PainΒ 

It rained all day today. We stayed cozy and warm and relaxed. Sometimes i think God sends rain to simply force us to rest and breathe. 😊

The past month has been extremely busy and full of summer days, friends moving, and friends visiting. I’m not exactly sure what happened to August. I blinked and the nights are cooler and days shorter, leaves are tinted with the yellow green of fall and there’s a familiar aroma of pine and harvest and hunting in the air. 

In some ways, September is my favorite month of the whole year. It’s the first month, ten years ago, that I came to Montana and knew  I wanted to stay. It was like my heart had found its home. The smell of sun baked earth, morning breezes, and golden dried grass over the hills remind me of that feeling and part of me wants to rest forever in that part of my mind and part of me wants to weep. 

It’s also the time of the year that my Love and I went hunting together for the very first time. We were newlyweds and although I nearly ‘killed myself’ on that first hunt, packing 8 miles into the wilderness and running blisters on my feet and having such aching legs, I had to lift them physically out of the sleeping bag, I still long to go back to that wild wide country in Dillon and have only the sound of squirrels, the whoosh of bird wings, the drone of a bee, wind through the pines, and the anticipated bugle of elk. It’s one of the absolute favorite things My Love and I have ever done together! 

There’s an amazing paradox I’ve been contemplating. The fact that some of my favorite memories have had pain involved. The fact that most life events that stand as mile markers are surrounded with hard things. The fact that when life is smooth sailing, we can celebrate in great ways, but those events don’t brand themselves with the same clarity in my mind. It’s the events that cause physical or emotional or mental stretching that I want to relive. 

I think I’m a bit crazy even wanting to go hunting again, for instance. It’s hard hard hard work in Montana. You hike and carry heavy packs and endure cold fingers and toes and no hot showers. Fierce winds. You eat cans of soup and huddle under sleeping bags and listen for bear. And yet, being in nature compensates for it all. And the joy outweighs the pain. 


Mothers do the same when they endure 9 months of pregnancy and the pain of childbirth and think they will never do it again….until that time comes when meeting another child outweighs the discomfort that goes with it, and the joy once again, outweighs the pain. 

I think God created us that way for a reason. Humans have a capacity  in this area like no other living thing does. We are resilient. Though we may be broken and crushed; though parts of us will never be the same, God brings us to places of acceptance. Places of fierce determination that our pain will not be wasted. Places of bravery we never knew we were capable of where we run straight toward the thing that scares us the most or has hurt us the most, and we use that energy He empowers us with to face the hard and the pain and the fear and we experience life like we never imagined. 

Beauty truly is birthed through pain. 

No matter what situation you find yourself in today, my friend, know that God has a plan. That joy WILL come in the morning. That as you face the HARD of this moment, God has a place of quiet rest for you. He  will meet you there and tenderly care for your wounds and give you strength for the moment. 

And when He asks you to run toward that HARD in life, know that He’s got your back. In fact, He walks before and behind you and places His blessing on you!

His heart is always for you!