Five-Minute Friday: Broken

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write.

Today’s Topic: Broken

It’s been a broken week.

The kind that started with Sunday tears and wondering and wishing that life made sense in a week that is supposed to be beautiful and the perfect reflection of the sacrifice my Jesus made for me.

And then I think about how broken He became for me. His body was literally broken.

He was broken to fix me, fix this heart, give me hope and peace in a world that offers no such things.

And, yet, I will still catch myself looking at the world, trying to use it to fix whatever seems to be wrong at the moment.

My greatest need is Him…and though there are days and even weeks or longer that seem to be a mess of broken, I must always remember that because I have him…

I am redeemed.

Made new.




I am anything but broken.

And as I reflect on a day full of unimaginable pain and sacrifice, I am so very thankful that he was wounded and broken, he died and rose again…

So that I might live.

Five Minute Friday


My God-Sized Dream: How I Live

What’s a typical day in your life like right now? How can you see God’s hand in the middle of the “small” and ordinary too?

When I first saw the topic for this week, I smiled and started singing a song.

One that, for reasons unknown to me, somehow made it onto my running playlist about a year ago and became a favorite. I especially love the chorus.

Turn up the music, turn it up loud
Take a few chances, let it all out
‘Cause you won’t regret it
Looking back from where you have been
‘Cause it’s not who you knew
And it’s not what you did, it’s how you live

“How You Live” Point of Grace

Though it may sound a bit flaky, I try to live my life in this way…with the music cranked up (sometimes literally), looking for the adventure in every step, and dancing throughout my days, too. (As long as there’s coffee. ;))

On a perfect day, I start with a run.  I usually do between three and four miles, but  I only did 2.4 this morning…on Monday nights I work out with friends, and our workout went late last night and was topped off by a frappuccino and a chat with my dear friend :), so I didn’t push it. I’m not Super-runner Woman, either (though I would look good with a cape, huh?!)…it’s something I became intentional about in order to shed those baby pounds and turned into something I enjoy.

When I get home from running (before 7 am) I get the coffee going and get ready for the day.

Key word here = coffee. I drink a ton of the stuff. True confession. But not black…always with creamer. Bailey’s Creme Brulee is my favorite. Mmmmm.

I’m a stay-at-home-mom, and it’s the job title I wear most proudly.

I’m mama to the most incredibly wonderful, spirited, sweet girl, Mae. Ever the non-napper, she almost always gives me a wonderful night’s sleep, so she usually isn’t awake before 7:30. (Unless we’re in time change mode. Ugh.) I love that it gives me time to hop through the shower and get ready somewhat before she’s up.

Once Mae is up, it’s the usual. Breakfast, sometimes-playtime, sometimes-Sesame Street. If she goes the tv route, I use that time to do some Bible reading and blogging. It’s when most of my daytime writing gets done. A lot of people start their mornings early. early. early. with spending time with God. I have found  that it  simply doesn’t work well for me.

I love Him.

But my mind is not coherent enough before my run to focus. Instead, I crank up a pretty sweet playlist of praise songs for my run and worship Him in that way. I love it, and I usually sing along. 😉

The  rest of our day varies, depending on the day. Some days we head to church for Bible study or to help with Feed My Lambs; the other days we’ll chill at home and  do art projects or read stories or play princesses or bake. (She’s a huge play doh fan right now, too.) We save errands for the afternoon, usually, because my ever-so-sweet girl mostly-dropped her afternoon nap last summer. (She takes about one a month.)

It’s a simple day, usually, and sometimes there will be more writing or catching up online interspersed with what we do.


My main goal as a stay-at-home mama  is to simply enjoy her and be the best mommy to her that I can be. The days are already passing too quickly, and she’ll be off to preschool in just five short months. Tear. 

My hubby usually gets home around 5:30, and  we’ll spend a little time together as a family,  eat dinner, and then it’s off to bathtime and bed for the non-napper girl we have. :) She’s usually in bed and asleep before 7:30 which gives us some time to unwind. Sometimes T and I will play a game or watch a movie; sometimes we’ll do our own thing…me, usually write; him, catch up with his favorite blogs or watch a TV show. Fun fact: we really love playing cribbage. I know it’s an old-people game, but it’s fun! You should try it. 😉

Being a SAHM was not something I ever thought I’d be, but I love it. I’ve realized, too, that it’s something I should never take for granted. My husband works hard so I can be with my girl, and I know there are a lot of mamas who wish with everything in them that they could be home with their kids, too. I am extremely blessed, and so thankful I can spend my days with Mae. :)


One of the things God has over-and-over convicted me about is my prayer life. I grew up always thinking that to pray, I needed to stop what I was doing, fold my hands, close my eyes, and talk to Him in that way. And while there are times for that, I try to make prayer part of my lifestyle…and I talk to Him throughout the day. Sometimes in a sentence, sometimes longer. While I’m washing dishes, vacuuming, or even changing a diaper.

I love that He hears me…and that He listens no matter where I am or what I’m doing.

I also love that my daughter is learning the value of speaking to her Father, too, no matter where she is in her day. Often, we’ll pray for Putra, our Compassion child…his picture is on our wall in the kitchen, and she likes to look at it. Mae knows that we can talk to God about him, and that we can do it while we’re playing princesses, too. :)

In relation to my dream(s) and pursuing them in daily life, my biggest goal is to place them in His hands each day and pray for opportunities. Right now, my sweet friend is reading through my book, and I’m good with that…in some ways, it’s a break I can use to reflect on what He’s asking of me and what could potentially be next. As for my other dream of writing for a bigger blog, I talk to Him about it…and just keep doing my thing…

…writing  in this space, which I truly love. I really do, even if the number of blog posts a week has dwindled a bit. (I’m trying to focus on content more instead of word count. Please don’t count the number of words in this post. ;))

I’m trying to be faithful with the smaller things…and trust that He’ll bring the big things when it’s time. His time.

More than ever, right now, I’m content with that, and it’s a good place to be.

Just living the life He’s created for me, following Him in obedience, and trusting that His plan will happen.

And it’s Tuesday! Hop over to the lovely Holley Gerth’s place to read more stories of what God is doing in the lives of my dreaming sisters! We’d love for you to join us. :)

God-Sized Dreams


For When It’s Hard to Feel

I sat in the pew while he preached yesterday.

Tears brimmed on my lower lids the entire time. The only reason I wouldn’t let them fall is because I didn’t want my eyes to get all streaky before communion.

You know, when someone might notice the black streaks as I made my way back to my seat.

Stupid pride.

He preached about Jesus riding into Jerusalem on the donkey and how the onlookers spread their cloaks and branches, shouting,

Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!

We all know the story…while it was a celebration, the darkest day in history was well on its way.

And the problem was…I knew the story. I’ve heard it a hundred times, more than a hundred.

I keep hoping that this will be the year I feel something.

I’m waiting to feel.

Stupid feelings.

Just about anything can usually make me cry.

I sob buckets at movies.

If I ever argue with T, I’m almost always in tears at some point.

Frustrations make me cry.

Sad makes me cry.

Heck, happy makes me cry, too.

I feel…it’s how He wired me, and I accept that and always make sure I have a tissue.

I usually don’t. 😉

But I have a hard time with being able to accept that when it comes to my faith, it’s so hard for me to feel anything.

I get that a relationship with my Father is not about feelings. It’s not about emotions that pour all over the red carpet of ILC. It’s not about tears that stream down my face as I sing about all He’s done for me.

It is, in fact, about knowing Truth and trusting it even when I don’t feel it.

Yes, there have been times when I’ve cried out to God, literally…and many of them.

Yes, there have been days when I’ve heard a sermon preached and it’s moved me to tears.

There have been life-changing days when I’ve witnessed, firsthand, the power of my Father in transforming a life.

But then there are days like today…days like Palm Sunday when the church is gearing up for Holy Week and Resurrection Sunday and everyone around me seems to be so in awe and emotional…and I sit there.

Oh, the tears were brimming, but it wasn’t because I felt.

It was because I didn’t. And I wanted to. So badly.

In a raw moment, I’m going to say something, in hopes that maybe some of you can relate.

I don’t have an amazing conversion story.

What I have are pieces of ugly and unsure, steps that are hesitant and and taken in fear…that my Father has somehow woven together into a becoming-beautiful journey of trust and acceptance and assurance and surrender.

It’s not perfect, and I know what it’s like to fail.

But I do know…That I’m a sinner. That my Jesus died to forgive my sins. That my Father in Heaven loves me. That He has an eternal home for me in heaven. That I should tell the world.

And I believe it with all my heart.

It’s almost a little too simple, but it’s what He wrote for me, as only He can, and it’s what I desperately cling to on mornings like yesterday when the feelings are absent and it’s too easy to let the guilt become shameful.

It’s Holy Week.

And I know I’ll spend a lot of it reflecting, but while I reflect and regardless of what I feel, I know I need to remind myself that it’s not about feelings…

But about knowing the beauty of what came from that dark Friday so many years ago and trusting that He did it for me.

And you.


Five-Minute Friday: Remember

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write.

Today’s Topic: Remember



It’s a day I hold in my heart forever.

That early-Monday-afternoon in mid-June, 2010.

They placed her…all tiny, swaddled-up, seven-pounds, twelve-ounces of her into my new mama arms, and I vowed I would never forget that moment.

I stroked her dark hair and remember thinking that with all the heartburn I’d had during my pregnancy that it didn’t surprise me to see she wasn’t bald. :)

And I just looked at her. For what seemed like hours. Memorized her face. Promised to never, ever forget a single detail.

And now we walk the days together…my tiny girl grew and is growing, changed and is changing, crawled then walked and now runs everywhere, it seems.

She is beautiful…more every day.

She is everything and so much more than I ever dreamed in a daughter.

And I want to freeze time in our days, but of course, time doesn’t freeze. It defies my hopes and marches on, seemingly picking up the pace with each passing day.

Still, we mark moments. Photograph them. Write them down. Try so hard to remember everything. Knowing that one day all too soon, my little girl with messy pigtails and a song in her heart will be out making her own memories, marking up the world, singing even more loudly, loving like she does.

And we’ll be so glad we took the time to remember these moments.

My Maelie-girl…I am so proud to be your mommy.


Five Minute Friday


My God-Sized Dream: Joy Surrounding Me


What brings you joy, especially when it comes to your God-Sized Dream?

I love this question and am so very overwhelmed by it all at the same time.




The word has such a different meaning now than it did just two years ago.

My husband and I were in the midst of one of the hardest seasons of our marriage. It was a daily struggle to move forward and to choose love and joy in spite of the challenges that seemed to overtake our days.

Around this time, I had gotten into the groove of blogging, and my writing was definitely something that brought joy…a place to release and be…no matter what I was feeling that particular day.

As I slowly started to become connected online with some different bloggers and friends, I came across a blog.

The writer is someone many of you may know at least through her words. And I became privileged to know her through them, too, even if we never exchanged an in-real-life, friend hug.

During those days of wondering and waiting and unknown, I found myself drawn into her story, inspired by her words, and taken by her heart for our Father.

Someone asked her the question, “How do you manage to stay so positive? So happy? Don’t you ever just get really mad?”

And her reply, specifically this part of it, changed me.

The thing I try to remind myself of, as I am without all the things that I wish I had to make me happy, is that my biggest need is Him. More than I need to be outside in the fresh air, more than I need to move without pain, more than I even need Dad… I need His will to be done in my life whether it is comfortable or not. There is not one thing that feels comfortable about my world right now, but I need Him more than I need to change my circumstances.

It’s still brutally hard. I have to remind myself of these facts every day. It doesn’t always come easily.

But it doesn’t make the truth any less true.

And the truth is that I can choose the joy.

So I do.

From this post at Sara’s blog.

Knowing Sara for the few months I did changed my perspective. Reading her words taught me how to Choose Joy, even on the days that were hard.  (Hard to me, nothing compared to what she endured.)

And I share this with you to tie it back into my answer to the question…

What brings you joy, especially when it comes to your God-Sized Dream?

Honestly, it’s the beauty He brings to each of my days.

Sunshine in the form of a little girl I am privileged to love and raise and spend my days with. I love her so much it brings tears to my eyes.

My husband and the way he loves me through each day, never settling and always striving for something more.

Heart friends…those near me and those so far away that heaven will be our reunion…who bless me with love and laughs, encouragement and prayer.

A new community of women who have inspired and blessed me along the journey to a dream.

Words…and the little gift He has given me in being able to use them to encourage others.

The sunshine streaming through the windows today.

A text or prayer of encouragement from a friend.

Printing off my rough draft and giving it to a friend. :)

A cup of coffee on a cold winter morning.

What I learned, and am continually learning, through my friend’s life is that there is JOY surrounding me.

It’s everywhere.

And it’s my choice…despite my circumstances, I can choose to find it in each day.

Maybe this is somewhat of a generic answer…I hope you don’t see it that way.

I hope that, whatever the dream God has rooted deeply in your heart, you’ll always find joy along the journey of realizing that dream.

I truly can’t wait for the day when my book is in print and I hold it in my hands.

Or for the day that I’ll hopefully have the chance to write for one of my favorite spaces.

But, today, I am embracing the joys God has given along the journey to those dreams.

For You have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I will sing for joy.
Psalm 63:7 (ESV)

As we do each Tuesday, a bunch of us are linking up with Holley Gerth and sharing all God is doing when it comes to our God-Sized Dreams! We’d love to have you join us!

God-Sized Dreams


I Confess…

Happy Monday morning, friends!

Though the calendar may say March 18th, my lawn in the burbs of Chicago is blanketed with white.


Gotta say I’m ovvvveeeer winter.

Spring, come on!!!

Yesterday morning I got up early and actually went for a run. Outside. It was glorious, exhilarating, and slightly cold, but it gave me full-on spring fever.

I thought a few Monday confessions might be good for cheering up my soooooo-ready-for-spring heart. Feel free to add some of your own in the comments. :)

I’m sitting here in a running jacket and the thickest scarf I could find in the closet. (Snow makes me cold. Even if I’m not outside in it.) Oh, and guess where I bought the scarf? Indonesia. Not kidding. Not sure I ever actually wore it there, but I do love it here! :) (And I realize this is not a great pic…another confession: This is the real of Monday. Really thankful for makeup today.) :)


Lately I’ve been missing Bali.  I always have a little ache in my chest when I think of Indonesia, and that’s nothing new. But Bali…it must be the lack of spring around here. And the fact that I’m doing a last read-through of my rough draft before giving it to my first readers. How I miss the ocean and surfing and wiggling my toes in the sand of Kuta beach. (Here’s a pic to make you want the beach, too. Anyone wanna go on a little vacation?! ;))


I let Maelie wear my new (Goodwill) heels this morning. She put them on over her footie pajamas and tromped around our bedroom. And though a small piece of me thought those three inches might be a little dangerous, when she put on my headband, my heart just melted, and I sat back to enjoy the moment. Then I took a picture before I made her take them off. (Sorry, the lighting in our bedroom is not fabulous for an iPhone. And please forgive the pile of clothes…I’ll clean them up later today. ;))


We may, or may not, be slightly addicted to Tangled in our house. And not only is it a great movie, the music is so fun. For the last few weeks, I have been trying to get the first song down…besides having a ton of words, the note jumps are tricky. But I’ve got it and am, unashamedly, admitting that I walk around the house singing it all day long. (Do any other musicians out there think this is a hard song to sing?)

And…here it is! Rough draft. Printed off last night. 123 pages and 36, 223 words of heart and soul on paper. I’m (most likely tearfully) handing it over to three friends this week. I’m not sure if that part is the confession…more the intense mix of elation and nerves that are currently taking over my stomach. Nothing like a little fear of rejection to make a person sweat. 😉 But mostly, I’m thrilled to be at this point. FRIENDS, I WROTE A BOOK!!!


And since my heart is pounding like crazy just from telling you that, I’ll just wish you, again, a happy Monday!

Blessings. :)


Five-Minute Friday: Rest

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write.

Today’s Topic: Rest

For about a year, early in our marriage, I worked at a coffee shop that was close to our house.

I loved it…really, that kind of job is geared toward someone like me. Chatting, coffee, people…yep, it was fun.

Even the early mornings were enjoyable enough, though they required me to get up at 4:30 a.m. :)

When Friday night would hit, though, all of those pre-sunrise mornings would catch up with me, and my body would literally crash.

And early.

It wasn’t uncommon for me to be completely out before 8 pm.

One of the stories my hubby loves to tell from that year was from a certain week. Nothing in particular stands out from that week, but for whatever reason, my body was so tired, I fell asleep around 7 pm on Friday night.

And while that’s not earth-shattering, the time I got up the next day is.

One. in. the. afternoon.

He jokes about how much he got done while I was, literally, sleeping the day away…not only did he go grocery shopping (bless him to the moon and back for that one!), but he went to Menards, bought an invisible fence for our dog, and installed the entire thing before I was out of bed.


I’m not going to make excuses for myself.

Clearly my body needed that rest, and when it finally got it…in the form of 18 hours?

I couldn’t believe the difference.

I felt so much more awake…alive…able to actually function.

And it’s the same way with resting in our Father.

Sometimes we go and go and go…trying to do everything in our own strength, forgetting that we have the strength of someone else.

We don’t have to do it on our own.

And when we finally slow down for that rest…for that encouragement…for His presence…it’s only then that we can continue on and feel alive again.

I am so guilty of pushing forward on my own, trying to get through my days in my own, human strength.

God, I need you. So much.

Help me to find my rest, always, in You.

Five Minute Friday


Little Blessings (Pt. 62)

Just a night for counting blessings…join me!

:) Sweet memories with my hubby. 366 days ago, we kissed under the Eiffel Tower. (Sorry, I don’t have a picture of that; we were too busy…um…kissing. ;))


:) Hand-holding days with my girl…I want to savor every one because I know a day is coming when she won’t want to hang on anymore.

:) Unexpected blessings like chatting with a friend and a random lunch date.

:) Beautiful sunshine to make a cold day seem a little less so.

:) Music and the freedom we have to praise Him in this place.

:) A surprise conversation today with someone I’d never met who understood my Indonesia life a little. What a blessing that was to this still, sometimes-homesick, heart.

:) New friends who have spoken Truth, love, and encouragement into my life.

:) Old friends who also speak that same Truth, love, and encouragement.

:) Hard lessons and the reminder of the importance of daily surrender.

:) A Father Who loves me…even when I have those many, many moments a day when I am unlovable.

And, P.S. I couldn’t resist posting this picture just one more time. :)

best eiffel shot

What are some of the ways He’s blessed you this week?


My God-Sized Dream: Deep Breath…

What do you really want more of in your life? Will you dare to say it out loud?

Well, since you’re asking…I really want more coffee and sleep. (Strange paradox, I know.) :) And, silly, but I’ve kinda been hoping for a pair of these…I can’t believe this world traveler has stomped her feet in so many places without a pair of TOMS. 😉 

But since those probably aren’t acceptable (or inspiring) answers, we can talk a little longer.


This was another question I wrestled with over the last week, but I think that wrestling and battling was so much against my own fear…and I think what’s coming out of it is good.

Scary, but good.

Though, up front you need to know that this. is. the. scariest. post. I’ve. ever. written.

Please be gentle with my heart.

Deep breath…here we go.


In the fall semester of 2007, over our Idul Fitri break from school, some friends and I flew up to Sumatra to visit Bukit Lawang, an orangutan preserve. Included in that long weekend was a day-long jungle hike.

Forgive me here for not sharing too many fun details. This may, or may not, be a chapter in my book. :)

At some point during that hike, we stopped for a water break, and I took the time to really look around me.

Vines everywhere…it was totally like the movie Tarzan. And I’d kinda had this dream to be Jane at one point in my life. :)

It was at that moment I realized there was an opportunity in front of me…one that, if I didn’t take then, I might never have again.

So I asked our guide to cut me a vine so I could swing.

He looked at me, laughed a little, and then obliged. He was even kind enough to test it out for me.

I was scared for a minute, but I reminded myself that now was the time…and if I ever wanted to be jungle-swinging Jane, this was the day.

Deep breath…whoooooosh. I sailed through the jungle.

Ok, ok…so maybe sailed is the wrong word. :) Gotta be honest that my awesome vine-swing was not exactly like it is in the movies.

Definitely still a dream come true, but it wasn’t quite so dramatic. :)

My point?

Is that sometimes dreams take a deep breath and bravery, but they can turn into something truly incredible.



I’ve been reading (and re-reading parts of) a fantastic book that I think maybe some of you have heard me talk about. 😉

It’s pretty much amazing.

And as I’ve been chewing on the first part of the book (no, not literally…though I may have chewed off a few fingernails!) I’ve realized something.

When it comes to dreams and saying them aloud, I’ve been safe.


Maybe it’s because I am an ENFP through and through…very much a talker, processor, people-lover, sky-high dreamer, and I thrive on it all.

So when I shared my dream for the first time, it didn’t scare me, at least too much.

The prospect of writing a book, in general, doesn’t scare me because I’m not afraid of words and stories.

Don’t get me wrong, there will definitely be butterflies that will most likely be doing backflips off of my stomach lining when (and if) my book is published, but this kind of dreaming makes me want to jump up and down and do cartwheels.

At least right now. :)

All that to say, for me, there is safety with words.

God has given me this dream, and I know it’s for me…and because He gives good things to His children, I know He’s got this. And I can’t wait for His plan to unfold.

However…ya had to know there would be more, right?!

What do I want to see more of in my life?

Deep Breaths.


Leaping out of my comfort zone with my arms outstretched, ready to embrace whatever He has for me.

Last week a Dream Team sister and I were exchanging facebook messages, and I let something slip. Sort of…I really did want her to know. :)

My other dream.

There is another one…that long-term one that really seems out of reach right now.

For a long time I wanted to keep it hidden, preferrably behind a door with twelve locks, but that’s not being brave, now, is it? 😉 

I want more bravery…more courage…to let go, and trust completely that my Father has all of these dreams in His hands and that He’s going to make them beautiful.

And not only the bravery to dream them but the heart to accept His answer, whatever it is.

So we’ve come to the part of the show…ahem, post…where I take a deep breath.

Deep breath…

Deep breath…

Deep breath…

and tell you another deep desire that has been rooted in my heart for quite some time.

There’s a pretty fantastic online space out there…maybe you’ve heard of it? 😉

I’d love to be one of their regular writers.

Big exhale.

Father, you are the Giver of all dreams…and I trust You with this one, too.

Amen. Amen. Amen.

Friends, we are linking up! Every Tuesday at amazing, Holley Gerth’s place. Click on the button below and join us!

God-Sized Dreams


The Art of Real

I love those days.

The kind when I’m up front singing with praise team and a blog post idea comes to me, mid-song.

Really. I even somewhat processed it out as I sang, but really that’s not a good idea for more than one reason. 😉

It was one of those days that actually started Saturday.

Wake up with monster headache.

Take ibuprofen, drink coffee, take time getting ready.

Go out to get a few things done.

Come home and get ready for commitment that night.

Monster headache still there…more ibuprofen.

Go to said commitment. Come home around 10:30, don’t get to sleep until 12:30. (with the time change thrown in there)

Sleep for six, too-short, hours.

Wake up, and lo and behold, headache? Yep, we’re good buddies now…apparently inseparable ones at that.

Get ready for church, get girlie ready for church, all of us leave at 9:20. (But, really, it’s 8:20. You know, with that awful time change.)

Look in the mirror when I get to church. Not good. I chose yesterday to wear those pants…you know, those. The ones that are a strange, shiny, shade of blue-almost-black that go with everything and, really, go with absolutely nothing.

Hair a mess…yay for day #2 and the new jar of hair putty I was experimenting with that gives me bedhead all day long. Still contemplating whether the slightly spiky, messy look is really a good thing or not.

Tired eyes…teenage skin. (Yep, it was one of those weeks.)

Belly pooching over pants…six pounds since Christmas, and my sixes don’t fit so well anymore.

I kind of wanted to crawl into the back pew and away from the world. But, noooo…not an option yesterday morning.

And as the morning continued on and I stood in up front of the congregation, the question I asked over and over…

Why am I so afraid of real?

Why does it bother me so much if my hair is less than perfect, and if my clothes aren’t equally perfect? If someone sees me without makeup? Or catches me at the end of a week that’s been full of editing and short nights from the girl and even less sleep for the mama?

Without realizing it, I’ve made it too easy to hide behind the makeup and as-perfect-as-I-can-manage hair, behind an outfit that helps me hide at least some of those extra pounds.

We have this image of perfect…and often forget that He loves imperfect. Anyway and in spite of.

But I still try to cover those imperfections…the ones He sees and knows and, yet, unconditionally loves.

I don’t have a pretty ending for this post. I just know what my heart looks like.

I also know that tomorrow morning, I’ll wake up, throw in some type of workout, shower, putty up my hair, put on some makeup, and wear clothes that (mostly) hide the hopefully-now-only five extra pounds.

But I’ll try…to be a little more content and see something beautiful when I see my reflection…instead of seeing all the flaws.

Because He loves flawed and imperfect.

He loves real.

And, this is cool…I wrote most of this post before I read what one of my favorite bloggers, Lisa-Jo, wrote today. I love her perspective…hop over and read her heart. It’s beautiful.