encouragement

Lessons From Indonesia: (3) On Getting Up Again

January 19, 2015 by Mel · 4 Comments

So here I am on a Monday afternoon (or, evening…ahem…) and that’s because yours truly woke up with a monster migraine. Hello, beginning of the week and the inability to function and write a coherent sentence until the pounding-nails-into-my-temples feeling is gone.

I’ve mentioned this a time or two before, but I really am not a Monday fan. That was part of the reason I decided to share my chapters on Mondays…you know, to try to make Monday into a day I actually LOOK. FORWARD. TO.

But enough about the fact that it’s Monday. Almost Tuesday now. 😉

Also, you are not going crazy. I promise. I shared chapter one last week…this week, chapter three. I decided to jump around a little. That, and chapter two needs some revisions that my brain wasn’t up for over the weekend. And if I post chapter 26 next week, don’t be too alarmed. 😉

So today I bring you a different one, but this is one of my favorites. I can still remember the day like it was yesterday. I hope you enjoy reading about the time this clumsy girl learned to surf and the lessons I’ve learned from the wipeouts…and from the getting up again part, too.

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You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.
Maya Angelou

Something I’d wanted to do since I was a little girl was learn to surf.

This is a particularly odd choice of goals since I grew up in small-town Iowa where large bodies of water were all but absent. Nevertheless it remained a dream…something I could see myself doing someday.

Before we moved to Indonesia, I only saw the ocean twice. The first time, we were in California for our first anniversary, and not getting killed by the waves? Was my goal. (Let’s just say I had a very unhealthy fear of death by large wave.)

The second time was when we were in South Africa, and the temperature of the Atlantic Ocean hovered in the 40’s, I’m sure. Just sticking my toes in was enough to freeze my entire body…no way was I going to submerge myself in that water!

I really didn’t even have a chance to learn to surf until we moved to Indonesia.

During our five years there, we made just three trips home, and we usually spent our Christmas breaks traveling. During that first Christmas in 2005, we took a two-week trip to Bali, where my love for all-things-ocean was kindled.

We swam, we bodysurfed, we boogie-boarded. We soaked up all that the glorious Indian Ocean had to offer us.

But I was afraid of that sport that required standing and riding a board propelled by ocean waves…surfing looked really, really scary.

So during our first trip, I didn’t try it, certain that I never would have been able to actually stand up on that board anyway.

During Spring Break of our second year in Indonesia, I went back to Bali with a few girlfriends. We spent our days between the beach and the pool, shopping, and eating all the yummy food we could never find in Bandung.

Our last morning there I had this nagging feeling. The whole week, I had psyched myself out of trying to surf, making excuses.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling.

So I hopped out of the pool, followed by two of my friends, marched right down to the beach (which was less than fifty meters away), and up to a guy renting out surfboards. Before I could chicken out, I hired myself a surf instructor and board for $5. (I love Indonesia prices.)

My instructor gave me a quick crash course in how to move from lying on the board to standing, all in Indonesian, of course. (I nodded my head and pretended to understand.)

Two minutes later we were out in the ocean, and as I stood in the chest-deep water for my first run, I felt like throwing up my breakfast. What on earth was I doing?

I carefully climbed onto the board, which my instructor was holding for me, and I watched the wave come up behind me. He let go…and I flew forward, hanging on for dear life.

But did I stand? No.

Did I even try to stand? Hmmm. Nope.

We laughed, he said something to me that I couldn’t translate, and I went back for another run, determined to at least move this time.

Again, I watched the wave come up behind me and felt my heart start to beat like crazy. As he let go of the board, I pushed myself up. I actually got one leg underneath me before I tumbled off the board.

Hey, it happens, and I’m pretty sure I scored graceful points for the somersault I did on the way down.

Third times the charm, right? I grabbed my board and faced the waves once again, determined to get it right.

Same story as before. As he let go of the board, I pushed up with everything I had, and I was standing!

The thing I forgot? Was that one must balance in order to stay ON the surfboard. I was so busy celebrating that I lost my balance, face-planted into the water, and came up sputtering after inhaling half of the ocean.

If you’ve ever gotten saltwater in your eyes, just multiply the pain times fifty or so.

It hurt.

I hurt.

And I was totally mortified that about a hundred people, give or take, had witnessed my thrashin’ wipeout. Sometimes there were just disadvantages to being the sometimes-uncoordinated-but-way-too-brave, white girl who thought she could surf.

Thankfully, I can laugh at myself in the midst of pain, which is probably what saved the day from being a total disaster…because on the next ride, I was determined to succeed.

My instructor had barely let go of the board when I popped up, steadied myself on both legs, and rode that board all the way in. A few feet from shore, I hopped off, looked up at a spectator who’d obviously witnessed the entire scene, and gave him a grin as if to say, You didn’t think I could do that, did you?

I spent the next hour riding wave after wave. Sometimes it would be a beautiful ride, sometimes I’d wobble, sometimes I’d completely wipe out…

But I couldn’t stop smiling…because I was following through on a dream I’d had for myself, and it was a beautiful one. There are few feelings I’ve had in my life that top what it’s like to ride a surfboard into shore.

There were several trips to Bali and other beaches over the next few years, and each chance I had, I’d rent a surfboard for a few rupiah, run out into the ocean, and ride the waves like they belonged to me.

Sure, there were wipeouts and face-plants. (Lots of them.) There were days when I fell more than I actually surfed. A couple times I probably came close to severely injuring myself when I took some hard falls.

But learning to surf taught me a lot about life…because there are going to be those days. Days when we feel victorious as we rise above everything…conquering the things that threaten to tear us down. There are also those days when, no matter what we do, the waves are just too much and they knock us down…sometimes harder than we were expecting.

But no matter what…I’ve learned to always get up and keep going.

We recently passed a shop that had a surfboard for sale, and I joked about buying it to use on Lake Michigan.

The truth is that the surfing part of my life is over, and I don’t know when (or if) I’ll ever hop on a surfboard again to face the waves.

But I know the lessons I learned from those rides…and they are worth every wipeout.

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The stories I’m sharing are about a place and people who are in my heart forever…I never want to paint a negative image of them or their amazing country. Therefore, I ask for your grace over each word and story. I pray that I share these words well.

The above is an excerpt from Lessons From Indonesia: On Life, Love, and Squatty Potties. All words and stories are my own and are copyrighted through Amazon publishing. Feel free to read them, but please ask for permission before sharing them.

Thank you!

Filed Under: adventures, encouragement, friends, God-Sized Dreams, Indonesia, Lessons from Indonesia, remembering, travel, where I am, writing

Lessons From Indonesia: (1) Finding Beauty

January 12, 2015 by Mel · 10 Comments

I’m not sure if I’ll write an intro for every chapter or not, but today you get one.

I sort of had a freak out moment yesterday…the kind when I basically told my husband that I didn’t want to share my book with the world anymore.

But don’t leave. Keep reading. 😉

Why? he asked.

There were a lot of replies swirling around in my head.

For starters, I am SOOOOO imperfect. Like, more imperfect than any of you, at least it feels that way often. I tend toward the drama and the crazy and the exuberant, and I think I drive some people crazy a lot of the time because of those things. I don’t want my words or my stories OR ME to be annoying.

And also, in the more realistic realm of all of it, writing a biography-ish piece is…well, it’s a true story that’s been lived. I write the way I saw it and felt it and remember it, not the way others saw it. Does that make sense? I fear that my writing will be questioned.

Which might bring us to the final answer I gave to my husband. The truth of why I didn’t want to to do this? Fear.

It’s true that when we chase a dream, even if it looks so much different than we every could have anticipated, it’s just plain scary. Plus, I really think the devil is just having a heyday with all of this, too.

Oh, my book may never see the shelves of your local bookstore, but words are words, and they’re here just the same. In public for anyone to read and critique.

Fear. It’s creeping in.

It could win today, but I’m going to choose to kick it to the curb.

So here’s the first piece of my heart…the first piece of many. And it’s pretty fitting that it’s also about the first day we spent in Indonesia, too.

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Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.
Confucius

I can’t tell you a lot about the first day my husband and I spent in Indonesia. I do know that we arrived at the Jakarta airport sometime in the afternoon, and that it was hot.

Shirt-glued-to-my-back-in-two-minutes hot.

And by the time we’d stood and sweated our way through that way-too-long, visa-on-arrival line, I wanted only one thing…to go home. I’m not sure what I considered home to be at that very moment, but I knew it was calling my name.

It may have been that the single thing on my mind was a bed with a pillow.

Well, there was another thing, too…I also wanted my dog who had completed his mandatory quarantine in the country and was waiting for us at some obscure, out-of-the-way pet store/shipping company tucked somewhere in the bustling city of Jakarta.

Thankfully we found the friends we were supposed to meet quickly, and they led us (and our mountain of stuff) to a waiting van, and we were soon on our way.

With just a few wrong turns, our driver managed to find our dog, which provided a joyous reunion. We grabbed some McDonald’s and endured our quite-by-accident, first experience with sambal…Indonesian chili sauce.

And then we were really on our way.

I was jet lagged.

I was emotional.

I was dreading the inevitable of using a squatty potty.

And I forgot to look around me.

That first day in Indonesia remains such a fog of images, pieced together by what I imagine and what I’ve seen other times. But I can’t really visualize my first impressions.

And that makes me sad.

After an exhausted night’s sleep in a strange place, I woke (around 3:30 a.m.) to the sound of the call to prayer from a nearby mosque. We had known about the call to prayer from our previous interactions with people who worked at the school, and so it didn’t catch us completely by surprise. Nevertheless, I still let out a grumble, stuffed my head under my pillow, and tried to catch a few more winks.

It didn’t work.

I pulled out my husband’s laptop and popped in a movie to entertain myself instead.

Nowhere in that moment did I look for beauty…granted, I’m not sure exhausted scratched the surface of how I was feeling. Yet at that very moment hundreds, even thousands, of people around me were rising to spend time in prayer. Who they were praying to is not the issue here…but rather the idea of a commitment.

That’s beauty.

I took living in the mountains for granted.

The beautiful, green that surrounded us became our normal backdrop. What I should tell you? Is that I’m not sure there’s more beauty anywhere else on the planet.

And what I loved even more about the mountains is that God placed them in a country that I sometimes found sad. The vast majority of Indonesian people have little and live day-to-day. At first glance, the city of Bandung was not very beautiful…in some, or more-than-some, ways it looked quite dirty. (It actually won the Dirtiest City in Indonesia award one year, though I’m still looking for the proof on that one.) 😉

But the mountains that surrounded it?

Beautiful.

I’m not going to sit here and tell you that living there was always easy. While I loved it a lot of the time, it was sometimes a hard place to live, and I never reached the point when I felt like I belonged completely.

I often became frustrated when I couldn’t effectively communicate in Indonesian. I would figuratively curse rainy season and the many days it ruined my plans as well as my clothes and my hair. I complained about traffic and not-so-silently wished that the masses descending on our city for a visit would just go home.

But I also grew to love the Indonesian people and found them to be some of the kindest, friendliest, most loving people I’ve ever had the privilege to live among.

They are beautiful.

Really, when we stop to look at our daily lives, there is beauty all around us.

It can be found in the form of a friend taking time from her day to call and chat for a few minutes. Or, in a just-because-you’re-important-to-me hug from a student. Or a stranger going out of his or her way to offer help to someone who is directionally impaired…and can’t speak a lick of the local language, either.

When I look back at the time we spent in Indonesia, I wish I had taken more opportunities to drink in the beauty that surrounded me…to stop and savor each and every moment.

For there is always beauty, no matter where you are. Take the time to look for it.

_____________________

Thank you!

Filed Under: adventures, culture shock, encouragement, God-Sized Dreams, Indonesia, Lessons from Indonesia, remembering, Tobin, writing

2015: Open

January 2, 2015 by Mel · 15 Comments

A year ago I chose Restore as my word for 2014.

I believed that God had a lot of healing and restoration for our family, and I chose that word knowing that we were probably looking at a pretty stretching year.

I was ready to be challenged, but I really had no idea that He would choose to bring us through what He did in order to bring that restoration.

I say bring…I should say that He is still bringING. We’re not done yet…we probably never will be.

And there are times I wish I hadn’t chosen that word…but I did, and He sure had a journey to take us on in the twelve months that made up 2014. I talked a lot about that in my last post…as in 1,200-plus-words, a lot. 😉

And now…we’re looking at 2015, and I’m even looking at it a day late.

Truthfully, for the second year in a row, I thought I would be focusing on a word like Create or Art or Do. Part of that is because my hands have been itching to get busy again. I got two new art books for Christmas, a journaling Bible, and tons of new, fun pens. I kind of can’t wait to get to it all. I’m teaching myself to do lettering, and I’m thinking it’s going to be awesome…though whether I am actually awesome at it is questionable. 😉

But let’s get back to how God ISN’T letting me make that my focus for the year. 😉

It’s not what He’s whispering to me…at all.

And so this post comes to you, courtesy of me finally bending to what I know He’s working on in my heart.

2015: Open. Let me tell you a little about it.

The word Open came to me as I was thinking about the last year and praying through some things. 2014 was a hard year, and as easy as it often is to go back to those things that made it rough, I’m also aware that there are some things God is doing in my heart. I want to be open to them.

So, some goals for 2015.

Open my Bible.

Every day, first thing, even if it’s just for a few. Find something He wants me to dwell on, to think through, to pray over and apply. (And since we’re talking journaling Bibles, which are AWE. SOME., doodling and writing on the pages is totally included in this.)

Open my hands.

There are too many dreams I’ve held onto with tightly-clenched fists, determined that they would come true in my timing and in my way.

Haha. Really, Mel, you should know better by now…

But I am beginning to open my hands by giving you all a gift every Monday. (If you want it!) 😉 Starting this Monday I’ll be sharing my book with you here, chapter by chapter. It’s my way of telling my stories for the simple fact that I love to tell them. No strings attached, just words. (A LOT of them.) 😉

And…Open my heart. (This is a tough one.)

I’ve had this perfect plan in my head for so long, one that includes another baby of our own. Realistically? Well, I know it could happen. And it might, still. But I do believe that the words, my ship has sailed, came out of my mouth the other day in a conversation with my husband. I think God might be moving us into a new season of being open to something different.

While I was at Allume in October, God crossed my path with two incredible women, and through conversation and even a few tears, and through buying the cutest necklace (more on that one another day…) 😉 I learned about The Sparrow Project and Project 143.

I also came home wanting to host a child and possibly adopt.

But I also knew we needed to pray through some things before we decided anything. It’s a shocker, I know, but sometimes I run on emotions. Big ones. 😉

And yet, there was something different about this.

And I honestly didn’t have a clear picture of whether we should even look into it until just last week when the face of an eleven year-old boy popped up into my Facebook news feed. There was something about him, and I called Tobin into the room. As tears streamed down my cheeks, I showed him the picture and told him that I finally felt like now was the time. And maybe the most surprising thing to me was that my hubby didn’t disagree.

Because this is our chance to say, Yes. We’re open to this and whatever might come from it.

This isn’t an announcement to the world that we’re adopting. A part of me wishes it was…there’s something about having a clear picture of whatever is coming. But the honest truth is that we don’t know. We don’t know if we’re meant to have another child in our family, and we don’t want to walk forward with that expectation as an absolute. Some of you know that we’ve been down this road once before, and it was heartbreaking. The decision to adopt is not something that should ever be chosen without an incredible amount of prayer and surrender.

And yet…we feel that God might be finally giving us a glimpse of what’s next. Will you pray with us?

And so that brings us to 2015 and the year of being Open…being open to whatever He has for us.

I really have no idea what it even looks like, but I love the whispers of Hope that are finding their way into my heart.

I love that I’m smiling more smiles and crying less tears as I type this.

I love looking forward to the new and exciting…and I want to completely embrace whatever He has for us, even if it might not be what I would have chosen.

Here’s to 2015. Let’s do this.

Photo Credits: William Murphy, Tim Green

Filed Under: adoption, adventures, barefoot, blessings, encouragement, family, goals, just life, remembering, Tobin, what I'm learning, where I am

See Ya, 2014

December 31, 2014 by Mel · 34 Comments

It’s safe to say, almost-a-million times, that I’ve put off writing this post.

I’ve been aware for several weeks that I needed to sit down and, somehow, find a way to put 2014 into words.

Words that are honest but also bring hope. Words that remember but also look forward.

It’s proven to be much more of a challenge than I thought it would be.

But that’s ok. Today I’m finding you and my blog dashboard after an embarrassingly-late sleep in and two large mugs of coffee…and I think I’m ready to share.

So let’s get to it. Though I am extremely tempted to refill the coffee mug yet again before I chat. We’ll see. 😉

When I look back a year and read through some of the things I shared with you all, I realize something. I had so much hope for 2014.

That hope looked like a lot of things. Restoration in relationships, especially my marriage. Hopefully an addition to our family. Topping it all off with a book deal.

I like to dream big.

When I make that list of things, there is a certain semblance of failure that threatens to creep into my heart. And while I won’t let it creep in, the tears are definitely creeping toward the corners of my eyes, and I have to blink them back.

There’s so much I wanted from 2014…so much that wasn’t just NOT given, but was also taken. It’s easy to dwell on those things and let them define a year.

A year. The truth is that we had a packed year. A crazy one. A difficult one. And there was a lot of good in the middle of it.

This was the year we finally got to take our sweet girl to our second home. I still can’t stop the tears of joy when I think of the first time we introduced her to strawberry juice or she rode on a motorbike or she gave our beloved pembantu a hug. We had dreamed of being back in Indonesia as a family, and I still have to pinch myself when I remember that we actually got to go.

There were also some pretty sweet reunions with some of my favorite sisters. To steal a line from Logan…or was it Sarah Mae? 😉 It still blows my mind that the internet gave me some of my best friends. They are truly a gift, one I am so grateful for.

And part of me wishes I could just stop there so you could all see the good…but I know I need to keep going and keep it real. Because there are other pieces of the year that need to be shared…

And they SHOULD be remembered because they’re forever-pieces of the story He’s writing.

The hope our family had of another child broke to shards on a sunny July morning, and it has taken months to even begin to pick up the pieces. Our hearts still ache and the tears still fall, and while I will make no apologies for those things, I also know that I need to hold onto Hope and continue to walk forward. It’s there, even when I don’t see it, and I need to claim the promise that His plans for me are good ones.

We said a heart-wrenching goodbye in September to a beloved member of our family. It was a sudden, painful blow, and while there are so many good memories of the wonderful 11 years with our sweet boy, we just hurt. Still. And we accept that He gives and takes away, but that isn’t without tears. And those tears just have to be part of life for this season as we move forward and love the ones we hold in our arms.

And maybe a silver lining in all of this loss is that God has knit us closer together as a family and especially in our marriage. We have clung to each other as we’ve tried to cling to Him. God has deepened our marriage, forcing us to walk with Him together on the many, many days we don’t see. We love each other more deeply (though we can still argue with the best of them!) and we choose to walk this life together, now, more than ever…even if there are days when it’s tempting to throw it all away.

And we also hold on a little tighter to our girl, too…though she did give me a reminder the other day. Mommy, soon I’ll be too big for your arms! Never, my girl. Never. 😉

I’ve also watched Him take the book-writing dream and say a firm, No. That one…it’s hard to swallow. Writing and publishing a book has been so much of what I’ve let define me as a blogger…and yet, it’s not what He’s calling me to.

That makes me cry, kind of a lot. And yet, through so many things, I know He is just saying that it isn’t what I should be doing right now. I’m being called to a season of depth and connection, not building and branding. I’ve needed to let go…for awhile now. And as I’ve slowly accepted that and loosened my grip, I can’t tell you how much peace it’s brought. How much pressure it’s released.

And it’s also confirmed something in my heart.

You see, I want to tell my stories. I don’t want to sell them.

And so…you’re all going to be getting them this year. On the blog. Every Monday, I’m going to share one. Unedited, raw, heart-stories that come from a tender place in my soul from an unforgettable time in my life. Stories He gave me that I want to share.

I lived them, and so it’s time to tell them. I hope you’ll be back every week to read them.

Honestly, it’s easy to read all of this and and wonder how on earth so many paradoxes can coexist. In some ways I’m shaking my head…but mostly, I have to remind myself that I don’t see the whole picture. Oh, I’d love to…but alas. 😉

If I’m being completely honest here, it’s tempting to say (audibly AND loudly), See ya, 2014. Don’t let the door smack you too hard in the #!* on the way out!

Brutal honesty here, folks. 😉

And yet, I want to walk away from this year, knowing without a doubt that none of it was wasted.

I see it so much already…in the prospect of sharing my words for the simple fact that I can tell my stories, in expectantly looking forward to the good He holds for us, in the ways He is taking the heartbreak and making something beautiful from it.

It’s what I hope for in 2015.

Which brings us TO 2015…at least tomorrow. Will you come back? I want to tell you about the word He’s given me for the year.

It holds Hope, a different kind. One that I think He might be using to knit our hearts back together.

I truly love each one of you who have spent even a few seconds here. Thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart.

Goodbye, 2014.

(And have a Happy New Year, my friends!)

Photo Credits: Kim Deloach Photography, Alan Levine

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I’m linking up at God-sized Dreams today as part of our One Year Celebration…seriously, can you believe it’s been a year?! We’re all sharing stories and updates from what God has done this year…so hop on over and join us.

I’m also linking up with my sweet friend, Kristin, for Three Word Wednesday.

Filed Under: adventures, blessings, dogs, encouragement, family, God-Sized Dreams, just life, loss, Maelie, marriage, miscarriage, remembering, Tobin, what I'm learning, where I am, writing

In the Fog

December 24, 2014 by Mel · 14 Comments

I’m sitting here, on an early morning, with my cup of coffee and words swirling around in my brain…words that have yet to make it anywhere else.

I might also be thinking about the scores of Christmas cookies we have left from our neighborhood party on Sunday and wondering if frosted gingerbread cookies qualify as breakfast. I mean, ginger is a root which totally means it’s in the vegetable category, right? Therefore, the cookies = veggies.

I love my reasoning.

So it’s almost Christmas, and other than sending out a card, I feel like I’ve been sort of bah-humbug about the whole season, even if I’m really not. I truly do love Christmas. However, I’m also blaming the fact that there’s no snow…and while I don’t always love it, it doesn’t ever feel completely like Christmas without a blanket of white.

LET. IT. SNOW. Dear God, please let it snow. (Ok, y’all. Write this down. Take a screenshot. Do SOMETHING. Because those words will probably never be uttered from my fingertips again. Ever.) 😉

So…life. Where we are. What’s up. It’s heavy, but I want to talk about it today…I guess because I’m finding that sharing what’s on my heart is one of the most healing things right now.

To say that it feels like we’ve been in a fog the last few months feels about right…so we’re gonna go with that this morning and see where it takes us.

I love where we live. I’ve talked about this before, but how we ended up in this house was a total God-thing. He really worked out every single detail for us to randomly end up looking at our cute, two-story, blue home on the last morning we were in town looking for a place to live before we moved. We were sort of on a time crunch and it wasn’t in the plan, and we had another house we thought would work…and yet Tobin just had a feeling that we needed to drive over and take a look. I said no…but we can all see how well he listened to me. 😉

And we walked through the front door, looked at each other, and knew. We were home.

And there are a lot of reasons we love it here. The neighbors are the most awesome ever…truly, they are the best part of being here. It’s much of the reason why we chose to buy after we rented. We want to raise our girl here, in a neighborhood where the kids still ride bikes and go fishing and the neighbors talk to each other beyond a hello.

We love the house, too. It’s a bit on the small side, but it’s also full of charm, it’s quirky, and it’s old and oozing character…and it doesn’t look like every other house on the street. We’re not really cookie-cutter sort of people anyway, but I think everyone already knows that. 😉

And? We love, love, LOVE that it’s a block from the river. When I’m washing dishes, I can look out my back window and see a beautiful view, no matter the season. We’re blessed and we know it.

A few weeks ago it was a rainy, not-too-cold-for-December, morning, and I looked out to notice a somewhat-thick fog hovering over the field near the river. It was the kind of fog that gives you a glimpse without seeing the whole…and it was strangely beautiful.

And I thought about how that’s what our lives look like right now.

We are thick in the fog. Some days just getting up and getting through and not looking forward too much are what we can manage. Not wondering about the next Sunday and how hard it will be to sit through church without crying. Not thinking about whether there will be two lines at the end of the month or not. Choosing to live in the moment…however it looks…and not imagining life too far beyond that.

He’s teaching us to embrace what He gives for the day and not worry about tomorrow. Sounds a little familiar, huh? 😉

The truth is that it’s been a horrible year. I don’t say that lightly.

My heart aches…physically. Still. Babies still make me gasp for a breath, a pregnant belly is even worse. I dread March and all that might have been…and how hard it will be when her due date comes.

I see a picture of my sweet doggie, and the tears spring to my eyes and I miss the sweet way he would rest his nose on my leg and wait for a chin scratch. He’s still so much a part of us, and we miss him more than I can even express.

Loss…it’s what has summed up our year, a year that held so much hope twelve months ago. A year that, now, leaves us wondering where that hope has gone.

And while I don’t feel like hope has died, I do feel like it’s been buried for awhile in the grief and the wondering and the waiting. Especially the waiting.

And maybe waiting is what He wants me to embrace now more than ever. Being content with just the piece of the picture that is today, no matter how unclear it is.

I kind of think that’s how Mary must have felt. It was no small task to carry the Savior of the world…and I often think of the fear and wondering that must have encompassed her heart, day after day, as she waited for her baby to be born. Yes, she sang her praise and she chose to trust…but she was also human and imperfect, and I think we sometimes forget that part of the story. And I wonder if, on those uncertain nights, she was scared of what the whole picture looked like. I imagine she may have felt like she was in a fog at times, too.

But she trusted and she obeyed…and a Savior was born and he brought Joy and Hope and Peace and Love…those things our world desperately needed and still needs.

We may have to choose to see them some days and to believe that they are there even when we don’t see. I know He has good things for us, no matter what 2015 looks like…and I’m going to choose to own that.

We might be in the fog during this season, but I can’t wait to see the picture when it lifts.

I think it’s going to be beyond what we ever could have hoped for.

Merry Christmas, friends! Wishing you all a wonderful celebration of the birth of our Savior. Thanks for being here.

Love,
Mel (& Tobin & Maelie, too!)

Filed Under: blessings, community, encouragement, family, just life, loss, Maelie, remembering, Tobin, what I'm learning, where I am

Deep, Not Wide

December 8, 2014 by Mel · 5 Comments

I made a mistake last year.

Well, to be fair, I make them every day. 😉

But this one…it was the kind that grated on me for a year. I just couldn’t get it out of my head. And I knew things needed to be different, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I had done wrong. And, really, it took twelve months to process.

But this morning, as I sit down with my coffee and pour my heart out to you, I’m starting to see.

And, oh…it feels good to finally see.

So one of my dreams has been, for a long time, to “make it” in the blogging world…to become the next big blogger, whatever that looks like.

And what that DOES look like…well, I still haven’t quite figured that out. For a long time, I had it in my head that it meant tons of followers, comments, a platform the width of the world, lots of recognition. And, of course, a book deal to follow.

In reality it sounds like a lovely, perfectly-ordered dream, doesn’t it?

And there was a time…a span of about a year…when I chased that dream hard.

Too. Hard.

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams telling a heart-story, one that’s tough to share with the world. Will you join me there?

Filed Under: blessings, coffee, community, encouragement, friends, God-Sized Dreams, just life, remembering, what I'm learning, where I am, writing

Please Use Caution When Opening Your Drink…

October 31, 2014 by Mel · 8 Comments

smilebooth2 final I should have titled this post something more along the lines of…

Allume 2014.

Family Reunion 2014.

Lessons From a Really Great Weekend.

On Meeting With an Agent and Other Things That Whisper Hope.

A Weekend of Blessings.

Or, all of the above.

I flew in late Sunday night after a glorious five days spent in the beautiful city of Greenville, South Carolina. Seriously, y’all (do you HEAR me getting all Southern already?!) I heart this city. I have plans to bring some of you TO this city. If I didn’t love where I live so much, I’d be tempted to move my family down there so we can eat fried green tomatoes and sweet potato cake for the rest of our days.

Maybe I love it for reasons like this…

cupcake quote final Because, YES. I do want to live in a city that has signs like this on their sidewalks.

Or, this…

cutepuppy final Mel walks into cute, upscale boutique.
Is greeted by cute puppy.
Immediately trades browsing for puppy cuddles and a picture.

But chances are, I love it most of all for this.

allume4-1024x768 final My heart sisters. They are forever that.*

When I started my blog back on that lonely, cold morning in January 2011, I had no idea it would turn into Community. Family. Sisterhood.

These are my people…

The ones who stay up late and chat deep and laugh loud with me when I totally explode my drink mid-flight. Yes, yes I did.

Mandy&Mel1 final

The ones who, when you finally meet in person for the first time, are just as wonderful and sweet and encouraging as you knew they’d be.

AmyB&Mel final
The ones who take the time to hold my hand, share a hug, and whisper Hope to me in a season that doesn’t feel like there’s much to hope in.

Mel&Kate final
The ones who pray me through a knee-knocking meeting with a literary agent, the kind in which I hand over my proposal. (aka: My. Heart.)

Laura&Mel final
The ones who don’t count how many cupcakes I eat in one weekend.

DelonnaGindiMel&Kim final
The ones who will sit and drink coffee and share life, even just minutes before they have to leave.

coffeeshop final
The ones who make me smile just because they’re near me.

Tracy&Mel final
The ones who will stand by my side as we worship our Father and trust that He is good in ALL.

MelAmy&Crystal final

The ones who share their dreams and stories…the pretty parts of them and the not-so-pretty, too.

Meetup final Loved the God-sized Dreams meet up!*

Yes, I went to Allume…and it IS a writing conference…an amazing one. Logan and her team did an awesome job, and I’m so grateful for the prayers, sweat, and tears they put into it for all of us.

But it’s also so much more than a writing conference. It’s that place where I find so many of my friends…sisters. It’s a place where we just get each other. It’s a place where we raise our hands and praise Him…completely…even when it’s hard and the tears flow. It’s a sweet, precious gift, and when it’s over…well, it takes more than a few days to process it all.

I didn’t know how much I needed to be there this weekend…how much I needed to just go and cry and laugh and be…and then find some healing. And there was…it wasn’t the kind of healing that makes it all go away. It was the kind where God used people, over and over, to remind me that He still loves me so much and that there are so many blessings still to be had. Even in loss.

There were some cool God stories…and I’ll share those someday. Stories about how God opened up seats BOTH TIMES on full flights so my sweet sister and I could sit together and share life and eat cupcakes at 20,000 feet for a bit longer. Stories about how God brought two precious women…now friends…into my life to bring some Hope to a heart that has just begged for a glimpse of light.

MIssy&Mel final I love this girl…she has such an amazing heart.
And she makes some of the most awesome jewelry ever. (See Mel’s necklace.) 😉

Dawn&group final With my friend, Dawn, in the middle next to me. LOVE her, her story, and how God planned our meeting.
(And we’re with two super awesome women who I wish I’d had a chance to talk with longer!)

Today, though, just think of this post as the scratch-the-surface-and-dump-my-photos kind. Feel free to share some smiles or grab a picture. One of the whole twenty…maybe…I took. 😉 And if you’d like a copy without the watermark, just let me know and I’ll send it your way.

To the wonderful women…friends…sisters…who were part of this weekend. Thank you. You mean so much to me…and though it’s hard to put into words, I think you understand just how much that is.

Until we meet again. And I hope it won’t be too long.

*I’m not sure which of my GSD sisters get credit for these photos. But, thank you!!!

Filed Under: adventures, blessings, coffee, community, encouragement, friends, God-Sized Dreams, remembering, travel, where I am, writing

Take a Friend

October 27, 2014 by Mel · Leave a Comment

A few weeks ago, I pulled myself out of bed earlier than normal on a Saturday morning, fully intending to get a run in before I started my day.

It was a good morning for it…not too sunny, not too humid (yet), and I had the best intentions…but for whatever reason, 8:30 rolled around and I still hadn’t laced up my shoes.

I found myself lacking motivation for something that I typically do enjoy, at least once I get going.

In a last, desperate attempt to get myself moving and excited about pounding pavement, I looked at my daughter. Do you want to go running with me?

Yes, Mommy!

Well, there was my, you-can’t-get-out-of-this-now-Mel, answer. We were definitely going running.

It was well after nine before we were finally out the door with Mae chattering away a mile a minute as I strapped her into the jogger.

We took off…and, friends?

We seriously had the BEST time.

And as we pushed through those three-point-one miles, I couldn’t help but smile at the moments God was giving us…

He was using my daughter to teach me some important lessons about the journey.

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams, sharing about the importance of sharing the dreaming journey with others…join me?

Filed Under: being mommy, encouragement, friends, God-Sized Dreams, just life, running

Finding My Song Again

September 3, 2014 by Mel · 10 Comments

My heart pounded a little as I walked into the music room that Wednesday night, and there was really no reason for it. I mean, these were my friends, and singing with them was definitely nothing new or scary.

The normal, pre-practice chatter happened, and that was good, but then the singing started and it was a good thing that we were all sitting in a row and I was on the end because I couldn’t believe how fast the tears sprang to my eyes.

I made myself hold them back and sing the words, but it was hard, and I wondered that night if maybe…this season was over.

And I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it because how does a season that has lasted 36 years just end like that?

How could a single event take such a big piece of me?

I thought it over during the next days as I half-dreaded Sunday morning. I didn’t want to say to anyone, I haven’t sung since before…

The truth is that in my mind, life is defined right now in two ways…Before. and After.

It’s not a conscious choice…it’s just how my brain thinks right now.

Certain things bring pain, and I’ve had to find where to draw the line so I can avoid what I need to…I’m not necessarily avoiding everything that’s difficult, but I’m not just throwing myself into all-things-painful, either. Does that make sense?

I know it sounds crazy, but the night I started spotting, I was wearing this silly, sweet tank top with a giraffe on it. I haven’t worn it since. I can’t.

I also rarely go to Target. It’s too painful, especially walking by the baby section, which is much-too-conveniently located, smack dab, in the middle of the store. Our bank account is doing better thanks to this, but my heart aches over it. I’ve been back twice…once with a friend, once with my hubby. I didn’t make them hold my hand, but I was close. 😉

Same with Chipotle…which I craved up and down during those weeks. I just can’t go.

And there are other things that make the list, too…like the book I was reading that I haven’t picked up again, the song Blessings…and the list can go on and on.

And Sunday morning came because that’s just what happens when days pass…and while I was ok, I couldn’t fight back the tears as I walked into church, wondering what I was even doing.

I really felt like my song was gone. Maybe forever.

And even as I picked up a microphone for the first time in weeks, I had the sudden urge to run…I seem to be good at that, and it was what felt right at the moment, but I stayed.

And I sang.

And while it was no big deal, really, the morning was a scream of Hope that my heart desperately needed.

I needed to know that my song was still there. Somewhere.

And it was. IS.

He’s finding my song for me again.

He’s healing my heart, one little piece at a time.

He’s Good…and I’m so thankful.

Filed Under: blessings, church, encouragement, just life, music, what I'm learning, where I am

A Small Act

August 8, 2014 by Mel · Leave a Comment

We walked with her through the crowds several Saturdays ago, her hands joining us as a family of three. Amid the chaotic scenes of ferris wheel lines and bouncy houses galore, the permeating scents of greasy, delicious cheese curds and deep fried Oreos, and the musical sounds leading up to Mandisa, I felt myself breathing thanks again.

Thank you, God, for this moment. For today…that we can be us.

And I had no idea that He was going to take that moment and etch it in our hearts forever.

You see, as we walked through the Freedom Fest, held every year in Janesville, Wisconsin, our sweet four year-old daughter stopped. She let go of my hand and turned to her daddy.

“Daddy?” She pointed toward two middle school-aged girls sitting on the ground, having a snack. “Daddy, those two girls are so beautiful! Can I tell them they’re beautiful?”

He smiled and released her hand, and in all of her 40 inches of tallness, she bravely walked over to them.

“You’re really beautiful!”

The girls smiled back and returned her words. “Thank you. So are you!”

And what my husband noticed, that I somehow missed, was the true reaction of the two girls our daughter had bravely approached. Her simple words had made their day…and he could tell it just by the looks on their faces.

Our sweet girl had taken the time to go beyond herself to make someone else’s day.

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams, talking about doing for others in the middle of our dreaming. Will you join me?

Filed Under: encouragement, God-Sized Dreams, just life, Maelie, Tobin, where I am

Lessons From Indonesia: (3) On Getting Up Again

Lessons From Indonesia: (1) Finding Beauty

2015: Open

See Ya, 2014

In the Fog

Deep, Not Wide

Please Use Caution When Opening Your Drink…

Take a Friend

Finding My Song Again

A Small Act

Mel

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