On Life…and Monday and Coffee. But Mostly Life.

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About a week ago, I walked outside…and what I saw made the tears drip almost immediately.

At the beginning of the summer, my dear friend had given me some day lilies to replant in our yard. Being the awesome, motivated, person I am, they sat in a wagon for two days before I got around to actually putting them in the ground.

And for several weeks…I wondered. Watched them turn brown-ish. And figured they were probably beyond hope.

But when I walked out and looked at them on that Friday afternoon…

HOPE. In the form of beautiful, orange blossoms. And I knew God had sent me a little hug, a reminder…that He can always bring beauty, even on the days we feel like we’re dying.

And that’s where I am right now…in that place of waiting on Hope. Of trying to live even though, honestly, some days it feels like the life is being sucked out.

And writing…well it’s such a huge part of how I live. And so there are days, like today, when I just pound out the words and hope they mean something in the end. 😉

And? It’s Monday. Oh, Monday. How I looooove thee.

Can you just hear the sarcasm dripping? In fact, I think it’s dripping right into my coffee… 😉

What is it about Mondays? Seriously. Even as a stay-at-home mom, I don’t generally embrace them happily. Or, even embrace them at all.

But the fact that they can come with coffee, so long as I can find my way to the kitchen to actually make it…well, that might make them look just a little better.

So let’s have a coffee chat, since it’s waaaaay early on Monday and there is coffee in my mug. Thank you, Jesus, for that.

I was telling my hubby that time feels like it’s crawling right now. It’s been such a long two weeks.

In some ways that’s good. I mean, I’ve said often how bittersweet it is to watch my girlie growing up so quickly. The years are FLY. ING. And, yet, somehow, the days that have made up life since July 22nd…well, they’ve been plenty long.

The truth is that the ache is an ever-present thing. I’ve had to find distractions, sometimes purposely creating them. Loads of laundry that aren’t quite full yet might just get washed anyway to fill some minutes. Cleaning underneath the couch, (oy…) yeah, maybe that happened, too. Sort of. And I don’t forget to water my plants and flowers anymore, either. 😉

I find myself desperate to make the days go by.

Maybe that’s normal?

But by Friday night, I was so ready for something to be different. I’d been out one other night that week for the every-28-days haircut/color. (Totally serious.) But I needed…to think. To just be. In a quiet place where talking didn’t need to happen unless I felt like it. So I called my favorite nail salon and made a pedi appointment. Of course, I arrived and the place was busier than I’d ever seen it. Goodbye quiet and hello, woman next to me loudly proclaiming her joy that her friend was pregnant.

I went home that night, cute mint green toenails and all, and cried. Probably more than I’d cried yet.

And so on Saturday, we ventured A.W.A.Y. Downtown away, via Portillo’s because Chocolate Cake Shake. Enough said. 😉 And then we sat in traffic for a small forever and found the zoo. A fun day for Mae because she needed it…and she declared it the Best. Day. Ever. We were glad for her, even if we might not have shared her sentiments. 😉 Seeing her excited was fun, though. We needed fun, and we needed to smile. Even laugh, especially when she announced to several people that the wild hog was “SO cute.” Golly, I love her. :)

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And yesterday. Let’s just say it’s not how I imagined we’d ring in 12 years of wedded, up-and-down, bliss. We’d had plans to go downtown overnight but decided not to leave for that long and had even debated whether to really celebrate…that word just doesn’t work right now. But our sweet, amazing friends had offered to take Mae to church and hang with her for the afternoon, and…who turns that down?

So we bummed around an area about 30 minutes from us. Drank some really bad coffee. (Seriously. I think this former-barista girl should’ve gone back behind the bar to teach them how to Make. A. Latte.) Walked and wandered a lot. Ended up at a really fun flea market and bought a bookshelf and two trinkets for the porch wall.

That might have been what made me cry for the first time that day…and in front of a complete stranger, too. But sometimes…yeah.

And we found a pizza place for an appetizer and a water (because I’m boring when I drink liquid) and played cribbage and talked about life. About how we’ll never forget the crazy trip to South Africa or the Thailand adventures. About parenting and how it’s filled us and left a huge hole all at the same time. About a little girl who has brought so much joy to our days, a kind of joy for which we will be eternally grateful.

And we talked about our sweet baby, the one who has been gone just shy of two weeks and it feels like two years. The one we named Carly Kristine…and we talk about her in our house, and it just feels right even though it makes us cry.

And I was reminded again that even in the ups and downs, there’s no other person I’d rather walk this journey with. Happy anniversary, Tobin…I. Love. You.

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And I thought a little, too, about how writing is how I cope right now. It’s how I process life, and I don’t worry so much about how or what I write but more about where my heart is when I write the words.

And it goes back to my Father. Because He knows and He loves…and though there are times I have to remind myself of His love, it’s always there.

And maybe in all of these words and stories, I’m just trying to survive. And He’s giving me a way to survive. To live. It’s important.

And some days we just breathe…and figure it out as we go.

Thank you to all of you who have been praying…you need to know that your prayers mean the world to us. And that we’re ok…because He’s holding us.

To Monday, a new week…and the adventures that are waiting. :)

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Pieces That Make a Story

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Fifteen years ago…and I can’t believe it’s been that long…I hopped a plane with some friends. Our destination was the country of Peru, a place that, at the time, seemed about as far from home as one could possibly be.

And it was great…it was three plus weeks of laughing, learning, memory making…and most of all, getting my first glimpses into the heart of my Father and how He was at work in another place.

I’d grown up with missions…at least from the perspective of missionaries who’d visited my church. I’d come to understand that missionaries were people who planted churches, preached sermons in another language, and started Bible colleges. Therefore, I knew I’d never be one.

But Peru changed that.

It was on that trip that my Father began speaking to me and opening doors in my heart that had always been closed. It was during those weeks God told me that if I was willing, He would give me a place. Somewhere.

Where that was, I didn’t know, but I was sure that God was calling me to be a teacher, and I made plans, almost immediately, to return to the place that had captured my heart.

Enter: a year and a half later and a boy. 😉

His name started with a T, he had an amazing smile, and I fell head over heels within minutes. (That’s kind of embarrassing to admit now.) He was settled, had a good job, and there was no way missions was even on the horizon for us. Oh, yeah…us. We became an us pretty quickly. 😉

There was a part of me that was devastated to give up Peru…but by then, well…love. I was heart-deep in it.

A ring followed, and then a house…before the wedding, even. Don’t worry…he was the one only who lived there. 😉

In the tiny part of my brain that is logical, I knew. His job was stable, we’d just bought a house…we were staying. Or so we thought. 

So we said our I-do’s, ate pie, and jetted off to Jamaica. We came home from our honeymoon, I started a new job as a nanny, and BAM. He called me on a Wednesday morning. Mel, I got laid off.

Total shock. We had not expected this…especially not to him. Tobin is good…and he’s good at what he does. And there’s a whole lot more to the story, and it has nothing to do with his abilities and talent and everything to do with his name being randomly chosen from a list in order to downsize.

But, really…that was the door we needed to close in order for more doors to open.

For the next nine months, he searched like crazy and interviewed like crazier. The job market was horrible, money was tight, and we started to wonder. More, if that’s even possible.

We prayed over it before emptying our bank account to purchase two plane tickets for Nicaragua and Honduras. Two weeks in March were spent with missionaries we knew. We were hoping…praying…wondering…was this it? Was God calling us to something else?

We came home from that grand adventure…and we were confused. There were no strong pulls for either of us to Central America, we were teetering on having about no money, and we were starting to lose faith.

And then came a job offer that would at least pay the bills. Buy us some time until we could figure this out.

But by then, we knew. We knew the call, and we knew that saying no wasn’t even an option.

And so…we prayed. And waited. Pushed on a few doors. Cried when they slammed back in our faces.

Finally, two years later…His answer. Indonesia.

Really, God? A country that really IS about as far from home as we can get?

After locating it on a map 😉 and praying it through, we knew our answer was an overwhelming YES. Less than six months later our house was sold, our cars about to be sold, most of our belongings were gone, we’d sent our dog on ahead to Jakarta (yes, yes we did…), our bags were packed, and the monsoon of goodbyes began.

And we went…and it was life-changing. It was the best and worst, it was life-altering and felt strangely like a piece home…it was His plan. I don’t paint a picture of Indonesia that is all sunsets and beauty…though the sunsets were spectacular and the green about as beautiful as anything can be.

Indonesia was a paradox of joy and struggle, of hope and heartbreak, of embracing and longing. It was all of those things, often all of them at the same time.

And like any good piece to the journey, it ended, and we said goodbye to people and a place that had embedded themselves so deeply into our hearts that we were forever changed.

And now we sit in the middle of what came next. Ok, ok, so maybe we’re not exactly sitting…who has time to sit with a toddler running around?! 😉 We’re doing our best to trust His plan and embrace each moment as it comes, knowing that our Father always, always has a far greater plan than we can ever imagine.

Tobin and I will celebrate twelve years in just a few weeks, and as I look back, I see so many pieces. I see pieces that didn’t always make sense…

And yet…He took them. He is still taking them. And He is writing our story with them.

And I might not know what He’s making out of the pieces of the now, either…but I know it’s going to be good.

Because He is good. And He writes some pretty incredible stories.

Photo Credit: Nomadic Lass

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Just Keep Running

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Several days a week, my view during my morning run looks like this. You would think that would be enough to get me excited about actually running…but, um.

I confess.

I confess that running is maybe not my most favorite thing in the world on a lot of the days. A LOT.

There are times when I do really, really like it.

And then there are a lot of times I don’t, but I do it anyway. I drag myself out of bed, force the socks and shoes on my feet, and push my own bum out the door just so I can M.O.V.E.

I don’t look like a runner…I’m just telling y’all that now. My running clothes aren’t bright, fun colors and expensive brands. Nope. I run in Target shorts and tank tops and my running shoes are the Nikes that were on sale, big time, at Kohl’s last fall. (And a lot of times? I just sleep in my running clothes…minus the shoes… 😉 so I don’t have to change in the morning.)

I don’t have a perfect stride or even-close-to perfect breathing when I run my miles. Also, I’m pretty sure my arms flop around like Phoebe’s do in that episode of Friends.

There are a few days when I basically make it my goal to survive…And, to keep running.

And so I get out there and I do just that. Some days are better and faster, and some mornings I’ve gotten a whole lot more sleep than others, but I go. I do it.

And all of those things? Well, they make me a runner…at least, in my mind.

You see, when I plan to go running, I set my goal before the first steps. And, barring a major injury, I have a rule that I don’t shortchange myself. If I’m going out for six miles, I’m going to do six miles.

Three miles of sprints? No cheating. Just do them. (Ugh. And I realllllly don’t like sprints.)

Last weekend, I wanted to quit halfway through my four mile run. (The problem with that was that it was at the turnaround, so quitting…yeah…) I’d run about a 19:50 split on the two-plus-a-bit-more, and I was happy with that. I’d just turned around and passed the little section of the path that almost meets the road, and cars (with onlookers) zoom by.

It was then that two guys on bicycles passed me going the other way. All I heard them say? She’s a runner? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!

Plus laughter.

Ok, ok so I know. I KNOW. They could have been talking about anyone.

But it was a bit of a tough pill to swallow for the girl who already doesn’t feel like a runner or really look like one, either…and I felt the defeat creep in as I forced my feet to keep moving. Boy, was the finish line…in the form of my front sidewalk…a welcome sight.

But then I thought about that comment…and whether it was actually meant for me or not wasn’t the issue. You see, there are always going to people who choose to use their words for discouragement.

There are also going to be people who look at a person at judge them just by what they see. They don’t know the story, and they don’t know the hundreds upon hundreds of miles you’ve run or thousands of steps you’ve taken or millions of words you’ve written.

I have a choice…WE have a choice. We can let them squash us or we can just keep running. Or writing. Or doing. Or being.

I’m thankful that last week, I chose to keep running. Was it my fastest time? No.

Was I dying just a wee-bit when I finished? Maybe, yeah. 😉

But their words didn’t stop me, and they shouldn’t stop you today, either.

It’s been a weird season for me, to be honest. I’m not exactly sure what God is doing with my words or with my family or, even, with my life. But I’ve got to believe and trust that He’s got a plan.

He does. And it’s a good one, because He promises us just that.

And so, some days I pull myself out of bed and go for that run, the one that is replacing another glorious hour of sleep that I could have. 😉

Other days, I sit down and write words…words that might end up published or words that might just stay hidden in the pages of a journal.

And yet, others…well, I don’t know on those days. And so I open His Word and pray…pray that He’ll give what I need for the day. He always does.

And, somehow, my feet find a way to move forward…to keep running.

I don’t know where you are today, my friend…but keep running. Whether you are pounding words or pounding pavement, He’s got this.

And I’ll cheer for you, too. :)

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The Cost of a Dream

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I’ve talked here and there about the piece of my story that involves Indonesia.

The short version is that my husband and I spent five years there…serving, living, loving.

It was good, and it was full of lessons.

It was hard, and it was full of tears.

It was long, and at the same time, it went by too quickly.

I’ve been back in the States for about four years, and I mean it when I say not a day goes by that I don’t ache for Indonesia.

But something God has had to teach me is that the ache isn’t a bad thing.

Rather, it means that it meant something.

Nearly nine years ago we were selling off our lives…the tangible parts at least. Except for putting some things in storage and packing eight suitcases/containers, it was all going away…to friends and family, to strangers, some of it even to the curb.

It was what we had to do to follow the dream of Indonesia, and we were okay with that. Mostly.

But following a God-sized dream like Indonesia came at a price.

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams, talking about the real of following a dream…and the beauty that He brings when we choose Him. Join me? :)

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A New Space for A New Journey (And a GIVEAWAY!)

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For years, I’ve stared at it.

The boring space that is A Barefoot Life. Really, friends…it was boring. I’m just being real here. 😉

Maybe what I wrote wasn’t always boring, but there’s so much that’s appealing about a pretty blog. And as a polka dot lovin’, flip-flop wearing, fashion-adoring girl, it just seems right that the place I live online should be cute too, huh? Can I get an AMEN?! 😉

And my sweet friend, Lisa? Well, one of her callings in life, at least according to me 😉 is to design pretty blogs. And she did an amazing job, didn’t she?!

Oh, I’ll be coming back here all day (and probably all of forever…) just to gaze at the beauty that SO not my gift at all. I’m so very thankful that someone I love is gifted in this area. :)

In thinking through my blog redesign…the one I’ve been wanting to do for a year, at least…it was hard. I had no direction because I was going through that kind of season. You know, one of those.

What’s my purpose? Who am I exactly in this great, big, bloggy world?

Because let’s be honest, friends…this bloggy world IS big. And it IS easy to feel like a tiny drop in a sandbox bucket.

Over the past few months, God has been whispering something. It’s not always been something I’ve wanted to hear, but He’s been pretty loud and clear.

He’s not calling me to write a book (right now, at least) or to be some big, awesome, word star. He’s just calling me to share my words.

Beautiful or messy, profound or just chatter…for the people who need them. And that probably won’t be the entire world…though that would always be nice. :)

He just wants me…Mel. My heart, my willingness, my words…for me to take those and use them for Him and let Him do the rest.

It has taken a long time for me to embrace that and not just be ok with it.

But today?

Today I’m completely owning my new taglineLive the Adventure. Tell the Stories. (<====Tweet this!) 

And there’s actually a funny story about how He gave me that tagline. It was somewhere, in the air, between Doha and Chicago, as I fretted over situations and processed a dream that had come to an end when I opened my email during our layover in Qatar. It was in those moments of grief and even a little fear that I heard my Father whisper…

Live the Adventure…it’s what I’ve created life to be. And then Tell the Stories…the people you love, the places you go, all I’m doing in you.

That’s it. And I kind of love it. A LOT.

So welcome to my new place…same site but a whole lot prettier. Thanks again, sweet Lisa! :) 

I can’t wait to share the adventures with you…the ones that happen as I slowly traipse my way around the world and the even better ones that happen in my own backyard.

I hope you’ll join me for all of them!

Here’s to a new space for a new journey…I can’t wait! :) (<====Tweet this!)

                                                           

I’m so glad you’re here, and I want to say thank you with a happy, fun, summer giveaway. Use the rafflecopter below to enter to win some of my favorite things! (Sorry…U.S. residents only.) :) 

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First up…what’s summer without COFFEE? (Really, what is LIFE without coffee? But we might have to go into that another day…) 😉 And, psst…Dunkin’ Donuts has any-size iced coffee for 99 cents all summer from 3-6 pm! WooHoo!) And if, for some sad reason, you are nowhere near a Dunkin’, let me know, and I’ll throw in $10 so you can get yourself some good coffee. It’s not like that gift card won’t get used around here…ahem. 😉

Finding Spiritual Whitespace…it’s one of my new favorite books. In fact, I’m reading through it for the second time so I can journal it out in detail. (I never do that with books. I’m doing that with this one, though…it’s that good.) It will probably take me six blog posts to talk about why it’s my favorite. But if you’re craving rest and intimacy with Jesus, you need to read this…Bonnie shares a journey of heartbreak, healing, and hope. It’s inspiring. And I think, no matter who you are or where you are in life, her words will resonate somehow.

My sweet friend and blog designer also has an Etsy store with some of the most beautiful prints I’ve ever seen, and Lisa is offering a free print from her store to the winner…you get to choose! Be sure to hop over and check out her amazing designs…they are seriously gorgeous. (I need more walls in my house just so I can buy more of her prints!) And as a bonus…the money raised from all sales goes to help fund her family’s adoption. How cool is that?! :)

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Last up…check out one of my new favorites. Ok, so it took me a loooooong time to embrace dresses and skirts again…five years of being forced to wear them might do that to just about any woman. But gotta admit that they’ve stolen my heart this summer, and Target has some cuuuuute dresses right now…this one was an awesome $11. Ok, ok, I had a $5 gift card and got a sweet 20% off with Cartwheel. 😉 Take this $20 gift card and pick up something fun to wear. 😉

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Thanks again for being here, friends. I wouldn’t want to walk this journey with anyone else!

(And I’ll pick a winner on Sunday. Or, rather, Rafflecopter will.) 😉

Photo credit: plugged mind

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Five-Minute Friday: Nothing

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five-Minute Friday. So, grab a timer, set it for five minutes, and join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write. Then leave some comment love for the person who linked up before you…and anyone else because that’s the fun and the heart of the community!

Today’s prompt: Nothing

I was up early this morning.

We didn’t have to be anywhere until 10:30 and I’d already squeezed two workouts into yesterday. It was truly a morning off, and I wanted to write.

I made the coffee, I gave myself some time to wake up, I read a few verses. And then I sat down, hoping the words might flow.

There were a few attempts, but it soon became clear that it wasn’t the morning for writing.

I had nothing.

And so I poured a cup of coffee and wandered to the back porch with my laptop, hoping for some inspiration. Even the cool, perfect morning (and the equally perfect caffeine) 😉 just didn’t do it.

Nothing. No inspiration.

Friends, it’s been a dry season…and it’s been pretty quiet around here, too. I can’t quite explain it or even understand why the words just aren’t there. There have been times it’s been frustrating, and other times it’s been a relief.

But mostly…well, mostly I just wish I could write.

I miss it. A lot.

And sometimes I feel like nothing when I can’t get the words out.

I know the truth…and so I tell it to myself over and over…that though it feels like there’s nothing, it’s a great big something. It’s just that my something looks much different.

And so I embrace it the best I know how…

in a park date with my daughter, flower planting with a sweet friend, a mug of coffee on a perfect (if wordless!) morning, a visit from Indo friends, even sunshine and a bit of a sunburn.

None of those are nothing…in fact they are pretty incredible somethings.

And I’m whispering thanks…because He is good.

And because I know that someday the words will be back, too. :)

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Five Minute Friday

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Less Words…

This might be the kind of day when I heart-spill a little too much.

So if I do, forgive me. :)

It’s 5:45 in the morning, and I’m up early because…well, because I’m trying to get into a good routine, and as much as I’d love to sleep much, much longer, this is my time to get things done.

I have to admit to you that I wish I were drinking coffee right now. We’ve got a big ‘ol container of Bailey’s Mudslide Coffee Creamer in our fridge right now (it was the only size they had) and OH. Yes, it DOES make me want to drink coffee all day. (As if it takes creamer to do that…) 😉 But, alas, I am not drinking coffee.

YET.

See, I’m also trying to be better about getting up to run early in the morning. I’ve been good during the last few months about doing lots of strength training and cardio/strength, but I need to get back to running more often. And my rule? No coffee til the run is over.

I know. Oh, I know. ‘Tis a bit brutal. 😉

I’m pondering life and love and the fact that my sweet three, almost-four, year-old finishes PK3 today. It has been such a good year for her, and I’m finding myself thinking back to the times when I would finish a year of school; especially when I was younger, I would always be devastated to say goodbye to my teacher. Clearly that emotion has been passed, straight on, to my girlie.

She cried yesterday when she told me she had one more day. I don’t WANNA leave Mrs. H! Or Mrs. B!

And, oh, how there is that piece of me that would gladly let her remain there forever…but we go forward anyway.

And with a few tears because that’s how a lot of us roll, I think, whether we’ll admit it or not.

And along with the whole finishing PK3 thing comes other milestones to remind me that my little girl is growing up so fast. A ballet recital on Sunday in a sparkly costume with her hair all pretty and MAKEUP. So not ready for this one…

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A real, kid birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese to celebrate the BIG FOUR. Not ready for that one in a completely different way…

Swimming lessons to come. That one I’m excited for…she’s been asking, and I want it for her.

So many changes every day…the pants get shorter and the cute little shirts don’t cover her belly anymore. Her aqua toenails peek over the edge of he flip flops, and I realize it…

…I wasn’t looking, and she grew up.

So time marches on, and while the snuggles and kisses remain, the I-love-you’s are a daily thing, and we laugh and dance together because it’s just what we do, I know it’s going to change.

That’s the part I don’t want to come.

I think back to the things I’ve always wanted so much for her…

To know that she’s loved so much…

…accepted as she is…

…and beautiful. SO beautiful.

Those things…they start with me.

And God has been doing some things in my heart when it comes to my daughter.

I was in Houston a few weeks ago with some pretty awesome sisters, and during our time there, a friend and I took a little break outside for a bit to sit by the pool in the glorious, Texas sunshine. (You know, that thing we haven’t seen much of in FOREVER here? Yep.) 😉 We were chatting up life…the two of us are in different parenting seasons…and I was soaking in all she had to say. The mama of four daughters, she gets this…

And I admitted to her that I felt like the blog was wearing me down and all I wanted to do was just be mommy. (But please, my readers, don’t run away.) 😉

As we continued to talk, I confessed that I felt like the time and energy I’d spent trying to build and comment and connect had depleted me more than filled me. That was a hard confession because I love…LOVE…this community. I want to be here…writing, sharing, doing life together.

And God isn’t saying to give that up…but He IS saying to step back a little.

That’s why it’s been so quiet in this space. It’s been a word battle anyway lately, but I also haven’t spent as much time at the computer. The majority of my day is spent with my girl…how it should be anyway. And nights are a little different, too…I used to spend them commenting and answering comments and reading blogs…and there’s nothing wrong with that.

But you see, I have a husband, too. He and I are desperately trying to find our dance again. We’ve both kind of forgotten how that looks, but it definitely doesn’t involve computer screens.

It’s such a confusing place to be…knowing I’m meant to be a writer, but being aware that to everything there is a season. And I think it’s my season to write less. A lot less.

I miss connecting with my community as often. I miss the twitter parties and late nights…and while I may show up once in awhile, it’s no longer the commitment I sprint out of praise team for. It’s an added blessing when my day allows it.

And so, for this season, the rough draft still sits. The blog is a bit quieter. And the words flow through my heart more than they do through my fingertips.

But I’m good with that because it’s where I need to be.

And now I need to go…because four miles, a pot of coffee, and a sweet, three year-old princess await me.

Life is so incredibly beautiful…and I don’t want to miss any of it.

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Here

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I was walking through Hobby Lobby the other day and I came across this. And I had to have it.

Bonus? It was 50% off…I think I paid $7 for it. (I really, really, loooove that store.) 😉

Yes, it’s a bike and not much else. No inspirational words, no deep thoughts to ponder, just a bike.

A bike.

And yet, it somehow struck a chord with me.

So we’ve been home from Indonesia for about four years and back from our visit for 38 days.

38 times I’ve woken up in the morning, most days with at least a smile because this really is such a good place. I love it.

But there have been more-than-a-few days, too, where there’s that ache in my chest followed by a quick, whispered prayer. Father,  I miss it. Why?

That’s a hard thing to admit to y’all…that my first words of the day have sometimes been of wondering and questioning, instead of trust.

It seems that the theme of my life, the story He has for me right now, revolves around the word, Here.

I. Am. Here. Deep, I know…but a concept every single one of you can relate to, due to the fact that you are…well, you are in your here, whatever that may look like, and wherever it may be. 😉

When I was little, I dreamed of another place…anywhere but my small town, where belonging never did happen. I didn’t want my here.

In college, I longed for a place with a bit more freedom.

I got married, and I longed for more because being married is tough stuff and a continual, day by day, process. Still.

In those first years of marriage, it was a longing for His Great Big Plan…wherever that took us.

And when that plan took us to Indonesia, we longed for home…far too often.

And now, here…well, sometimes we long for there.

It’s a jumble of always being Here. And, often, wanting there.

And it’s been a slow process…to accept that where He has me is always what’s best. It is because…well, because it is, and because it has to be.

My plan isn’t better than what He’s got…you’d think I’d have learned that a long time ago.

So if He’s got me here…well, here is where I should be.

And so I wrestle…and surrender. Wrestle again, surrender some more.

The truth is that my heart is torn between countries and continents, the crack separated by an ocean. It hurts…some days more than others and a few blessed ones, hardly at all.

In all of it, though, there’s been that reminder. Mel, you are blessed. And no matter how you’re feeling, and no matter where you are, there are always blessings. And you need to count them.

And so I count.

The sunny days, the rainy ones too. The days when Mae and I dance together and the days when mama and daughter struggle. The times when the adventures abound and the moments when they don’t. The living room picnics and the pony-playing. The sweet days and the hard ones, too.

All of it.

And maybe that’s what that bike meant to me, the second I saw it…Life is an adventure waiting to be lived. Here. Where I am. (<====Click to Tweet!)

How can I live it today?

Well, I doubt I’ll be riding a bike, but I think there will be some dancing with my girl. Some coffee drinking. Some playing outside. We might even take a walk to the park.

And maybe I’ll find a place to hang my new picture, too. :)

Sig

On Community and Sisters

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I boarded the plane last Friday morning feeling depleted.

It had been a long few months.

Months that were full of so many blessings…trips, reunions, memories, friendship. So much to fill my heart with thanks.

And yet…months that were full of so much discouragement. A halt to my dreams, a funk that I couldn’t pinpoint, words that were gone.

All I knew was that tired reigned and I was running close…so very close…to empty.

Add to that the fact that anytime I fly, the butterflies do backflips. My stomach goes nuts. Really, it’s pretty miserable until the flight is over, and then things tend to calm down. Thankfully the plane landed early, my crazy-70’s-flower suitcase was one of the first bags out of the gate, and I had no problem finding and hopping the transit shuttle to meet my friend, Mandy.

Just a few minutes later we were exchanging a hug, taking a selfie, and grabbing a Starbucks while we waited for another friend to arrive.

The butterflies were gone, and it was the beginning of a beautiful weekend.

Mandy&MelAirportYes, that’s a moonwalking cow in the background. I guess he’s famous? 😉

Just an hour or so later, we were all at Gindi’s house, together…most of us reuniting with hugs and hello-agains, and a few hugging hello for the first time.

It was a moment when I stopped, took a deep breath, and determined to savor it all.

And through the weekend, there was plenty to savor, and I’m not just talking about the awesome food.

Y’all. Really.

Tex Mex, BBQ, sandwiches, chips with spinach dip (Oh. The. Spinach. Dip.), a dessert platter to die for. (It’s a wonder I came back lighter…I have no clue H.O.W.)

But food aside, the community. The sweet conversations. The powerful prayers. The amazing worship. The heart spills. The tears. The laughter. The stories. We came together to talk, plan, and pray about the future of God-sized Dreams, but we left with so much more than that.

It was all an amazing gift.

I still can’t quite wrap my head, or my heart, around the fact that God decided to bless me this much. THIS. MUCH…with a community of women. Writers. Dreamers. Friends. Sisters.

It’s true. They are sisters and my family. And we share life, even if it’s more often through messages and voxer than it is around a table.

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They love me even when I’m the ugly crier in the room, they laugh when I get a little crazy and do a cannon ball into a kinda-cold pool, they listen and love when I tell them that I’m not sure of much right now. They smile and do life with me anyway in the mall when the four inch heels just aren’t cutting it and I’m forced to live up to my bloggy namesake. They (somewhat?) willingly happy dance with me. 😉

I’ve spent several days trying to find words…adequate ones…that will explain just how much these women mean to me…and what this weekend meant, too…and there really aren’t words. Just our Father who brought us all together and gives us the reason we’re doing what we do.

I’m thankful. I’m blessed.

And He is Good.

And the weekend did so much for my heart. Even as I boarded the plane Sunday night in Houston when the weather was bad, and I knew that the flight was going to be rough…my heart was still so full.

God gives gifts in all kinds of different ways. This gift…the amazing gift of community…is one I breathe thanks for each day.

To my beautiful sisters…(in no particular order, I promise!)…Mandy, Christine, Holley, Lisa, Alecia, Gindi, Kristin, Elise, Delonna, Elizabeth, Chelle…you truly bless my life, and I am so grateful to be walking this dreaming journey with you.

And I already can’t wait until the next time we exchange hugs. And maybe do a little happy dance together, too. 😉

***Thank you to sweet Lisa, who let me borrow a few of her pictures for this post. :)

Sig

Dear Dreamer…On One of Those Days

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Hello, sweet dreamer.

It’s your friend, Mel.

And I’m writing to you on one of those days. You know, those days. It’s the kind of day when I wish I could pour two mugs of coffee, add a little extra french vanilla creamer, and sit down for a heart-chat with you in a quiet corner at a cute little table.

Because…well, because we’ve all had those days, and sometimes I think we should talk about them more. Just so we can all be reminded that we’re not alone.

I’m imagining that, even as you read these words, you might be nodding your head. Saying, Yes. Or, maybe even, Days? How about weeks that stretch into months? (Trust me, I’m there with you.) 

Because there are those days, no matter who you are or what you’re dreaming, when the dreams feel shrouded in a fog so thick that there’s nothing to be seen.

Maybe the door to a dream has been closed.

Maybe He’s changed your heart and your desires.

Maybe fear has crept in and camped out in a too-big space, crippling your ability to move forward.

Maybe you’re just struggling for breath, hoping to make it to the next moment.

Or, maybe you’re all of them rolled into one…

Today I’m over at God-Sized Dreams, sharing a heart spill about some Truth on the hard days. Will you join me here? :)

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Sig