Stitch Fix…the Experience


A few weeks ago, I signed up for Stitch Fix.

The concept is pretty cool, actually. You go online, fill out your style profile, sizes, preferences, etc…and then one of the designers picks out five clothing or accessory items for you. They ship it to you, you try things on, keep what you like, return what you don’t.

It costs $20…which can be applied toward any items you decide to keep; if you decide to keep everything, they knock a cool 25% off the total price. Returns are free (return envelope included!), and you can schedule your “fixes” anytime.

Really, for $20, it sounded appealing. Even fun. A few of my blog friends have tried it out and had mixed reviews…some loved it, some not-so-much. I was intrigued.

So here are my thoughts and opinions…completely unsolicited. Just my Target lovin’, bargain shoppin’, cute clothes adoring, opinions.


So when the box arrived, I was pretty excited. (But I totally made myself clean up our bedroom first so I could properly take photos without you seeing any potential messes I’ve created in the last few days due to my clothes throwing tossing habit. 😉



Even the inside of the box was cute. Stitch Fix really knows how to get a girl excited about clothes!

The first item I pulled out? These beauties.


I swooned. Really. I would never have picked out a pair of cantaloupe-colored skinnies, but I was actually happy with the color choice. Unfortunately, at least with these pants, they fit like juniors. And this normally-size-six girl doesn’t wear that size in juniors. I could get them on, but I really shouldn’t post that picture for y’all. I guess, from reading other reviews, it’s not completely uncommon for things not to fit, especially the first time. So, a little bummed, but I’m gonna be honest…no matter how much money we have, I can’t justify $88 jeans.

So I slipped into my favorite skinny jeans to try on the rest of my fun fix!

Next up was an adorable, gray tank top. This is totally something I would choose…at Target. Meaning, I’m probably not going to pay this kind of price for a tank top, even if there are some adorable beads around the neckline. But it was cute under my turquoise-y cardigan with the bubble necklace they also sent me.


Honestly, I adore bubble necklaces. But I don’t adore gold jewelry…so while it was fun to model, I’m not going to keep it.


This one was actually my favorite. I’ll be honest…when I saw the bird print, I cringed. I’m am, almost always, NOT a print girl. I like my stripes and polka dots and the occasional flower…but this is cute. I really love the style, but again…I can’t swing $68 for a shirt.


When I saw my fix, this last one was the one I thought I’d keep if I kept anything. I do like it, despite the fact that I have exactly one red item in my closet currently. But it looked too much like a Target shirt to me…agree?

So, in the end, I’m out $20…with the conclusion that Stitch Fix probably isn’t for someone like me. I love clothes, but I love actually going shopping for them. I also love a really good deal…which makes me a bargain shopper, I guess…and also makes their prices a little too high for my taste. :) But it was a fun way to spend a little money one time.

And…I can see how it’s a good thing for really busy moms who either don’t have a ton of time to go shopping or would prefer not to take their four kiddos along. I get that and I only have a little girl. So…it is a really great thing for some people. :)

Just my opinions…what about you? Have you tried Stitch Fix? Or been thinking about it? I’d love to hear about your experience!

And if you use this link to sign up, I do get a $25 credit to use for another fix, if I decide to try again. 😉


Five-Minute Friday: After

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: After

There’s this piece of me that has always had a hard time settling.

Maybe it’s because the longest we’ve been in one place, without some significant change, is three years.

My heart kind of lives in the what’s-coming-next-mode…

What’s coming after this?

It’s a hard place to be…especially when we’ve said the same thing over and over. This is where we want those roots to be…planted so deeply that it will not be so easy to pull them up again and run to whatever is coming after this.

Instead, we choose to settle and to be content in the here instead of wondering what might be next.

But, can I be honest? I do wonder.

And in the middle of that wondering, I am always amazed at the contentment my Father gives. He reminds me that He is good and that His plan is perfect, and that He has created now and it’s so, so beautiful, if I’ll just take the time to soak it in.

That’s my challenge for myself…to live in the present and to see each blessing He chooses to give.

I hope we’ll be here a long time.

Five Minute Friday


Heehee…Look What I Did!

BlueHairA few of you wanted a picture, so here ya go, friends. Now, don’t run anyone over as you sprint out the door on your quest for blue highlights. You know you want them. 😉


My God-Sized Dream: The Why

We’ve talked a lot about “what” your dream is and now it’s time to tackle the “why” behind it. Why is your dream worth pursuing, fighting for and seeing through no matter what happens?

I shared a few months ago about a dream God had given me.

To take my stories from Indonesia, the good and bad, the ugly and broken, the beautiful…and write a book.

Since sharing that initial dream, He’s done a lot in this heart. And while that dream is there, and being actively chased :), there’s been more defining…and maybe some heart-refining, too.

I’ve always loved to write and dreamed of writing a book, but that answer to “why” doesn’t completely cover it.

So…here’s the more honest answer. :)

It started with a blog, this space, in January of 2011. My husband and I had gone through an insane amount of change in the previous eight months…being in separate hemispheres for the last six weeks of my pregnancy, leaving Indonesia, the birth of our first child, readjusting to America, and relocating to a brand new city and state.

To be blunt, my head was spinning at a fast and furious, unable-to-focus, rate.

And this space became my haven…a place I hung out every day to share whatever it was that was going on in my heart and life…from the real of heartache and my inability to park a minivan, to the joy I felt over having coffee with a friend for the first time in six months and my confusion over why people wore boots over their jeans. 😉

America confused me, and I think I confused America.

And eventually those stories started to spill out, and God began to give glimpses of His goodness in the midst of ALL…despite the fact that everything I had always known no longer made sense.

Because it wasn’t about life making sense…it was about holding His hand and choosing to walk in His Grace, despite circumstances.

And I felt like maybe my stories were worth sharing…not just the happy and hilarious ones but the ones that broke me, the ones that changed my perspective, the ones that made (and still make) me cry.

And so I decided to write a book. :)

I’ve finished the rough draft, and I kinda love it. I think it’s one anyone can relate to on some level. (If y’all would like to say a prayer that a publisher will see it’s awesomeness, too, that would be amazing. ;))

But beyond books and blogs, I think the overall dream is encouragement.

I think that’s what He wants from me.

To take the gift He’s given me and use it for His glory. That might often be through words, but it also comes in other forms…listening, prayer, heart-spilling chats. He can use it all.

He can take my words…and make a difference, no matter big or small. It’s a difference and it’s for Him.

That’s the heart of it all right there.

And it’s worth chasing because it’s what He’s calling me to do.

I read these words recently, written by a friend…they are so true. And so what my heart needed to hear again this morning at this stage of dreaming.

Maybe you’re in a place where it seems no one sees you and it feels like what you do doesn’t matter. Maybe you feel like your potential isn’t being used. What are you doing taking care of a few sheep when you sense inside that you’re made for so much more? But you’re being faithful anyway. You’re serving, learning, loving, and growing.

You’re a God-Sized dreamer, and that means you can make a difference anywhere.

(You’re Made For a God-Sized Dream: Opening the Door to All God Has for You, by Holley Gerth; p. 50-51)

My prayer is that He’ll take this heart and life and use it for His glory…and I’ll leave the size of that up to Him.

And, Happy Tuesday, friends! As always, we’re linking up over at Holley‘s place. Hop by, say hello, and read what God is doing in some dreamer hearts!

God-Sized Dreams


Justifying Grief

I want to warn you, friends, that this post may make you uncomfortable. And if you’d rather not read it, I understand.

It’s been a season of dreaming and doing…with a lot of reflecting mixed in there, too.

And since many of you walk this journey with me…the one of hopes and chasing dreams, of love and extreme thankfulness, of a bit of sorrow and more broken, but also of so much redemption and Grace…I want you to know.

If you want to know.

So read at your own risk. :)


There is a wound that’s been buried in a corner of my heart for more than four years.

Most days, it’s just there…but it never goes away. Occasionally it will tug and pull and ache and make me cry.

And then there are weeks like this past one where it slashes and slices and crushes and makes my body rack with sobs.

I thought it would go away, this wound of loss so deep, especially once our little girl joined our family.

But it hasn’t, and from time to time, the pain will resurface. And lately, it’s seemed to grab a hold and start to strangle.

Especially this past week, as it seemed to just make me cry more and more, I wondered…

Is it possible I never grieved it?

I don’t know.

All I know is that the month of March is one of the most painful for me…and when it rolls around, it feels as if a demon overtakes me.

The demon of depression…of anger, of hurt, of regret, of unknown. Of wishing and wondering and wanting to know so badly but needing to accept that I never will.

Most of you know the story, but not all.

For a long time, I’ve been afraid of it, but I can’t be anymore. For it is part of us…part of our family, and we need to acknowledge that it’s there and always will be. 

In November of 2008, while Tobin and I were living in Indonesia, we made the decision to pursue adoption. It wasn’t something we rushed into…it had been in our prayers and discussions for months, even years.

In January of 2009, we were approached about the possibility of adopting a baby. A mother in a nearby village who had a connection with a friend was pregnant with her third child. The father was in and out of the picture, money was almost nonexistent, and they wanted a better life for this baby.

Through our friend, they heard about us and asked if we would like their baby.

There are days I wish it had been that simple. And then there are others when I wish it had all never happened.

She was due end of April/beginning of May. It was January.

We flew into paperwork mode and, as soon as we could, scheduled a meeting with the head of the Yayasan (adoption CEO, for lack of a better term) in Jakarta. We met with her, and though somewhat helpful, we left feeling discouraged.

Despite the discouragement, our friend was convinced that this could work, that the hoops could be jumped through and the obstacles overcome.

We had a lot on our side, and I believed with everything in me that God wanted us to have this baby.

And I knew I shouldn’t have gone there yet, but I did. We were lying in bed one night, talking, and I told T how much I liked the name, Maria. We never talked about a boy’s name because I was certain it would be a girl.

I had dreams of a purple nursery with maybe some butterflies on the wall, of spending more years in Indonesia, of finally being able to be a family in my community.

In March, those dreams died when the mother changed her mind. We never heard officially what happened, other than we knew there had been some family pressure.

And my dreams for a Maria and a purple nursery with a cute, white crib turned to ashes.

I cried more tears that month than I ever thought possible.

What’s worse, I was convinced that my grief was unjustified. Not everyone had been completely on board with the situation, and one friend even passively said, Oh, you can just try again. It’s not like it was guaranteed anyway.

It was a grief I stuffed down deep. I was afraid of judgment, afraid of being caught crying over something others felt wasn’t justified.

I still had to teach…I still had nineteen 5th graders. I had a life and responsibilities…and the tears were pushed to the late night.

The kind when it was just me and heartbreak buried under a daisy blanket.

Alone, crying out to a God Who felt too far away.

People say that time heals wounds, and I half-agree with it.

Just half, though.

Eventually the exhaustion translated to sleep and sleep meant relief from pain.

Days somehow passed and life occupied hours…and it was what it was.

We returned to the States for the summer. Most never asked, we didn’t talk.

And while tears have dripped since, today the hole feels more like a pit of desperation…the kind that threatens to swallow up a life that needs to be lived.

About a year ago God laid it on our hearts to sponsor a child through Compassion. I pored through the pictures of children from Indonesia, looking for a three year-old. Somehow hoping that maybe…maybe…this child could still be mine.

I knew it was foolish, I knew the odds were millions to one, I knew…

I know…

I know I just have to let go.

To trust that God has a plan for this now-almost-four-year-old child, one that for whatever reason didn’t include us, one that is far greater than I could have imagined.

And so I need to say goodbye.

Goodbye, sweet one.