Not Forgotten

February 28, 2020 by · 1 Comment

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There are moments in life when we feel forgotten.

This past Tuesday afternoon was one of those for me.

I was sitting in a cafe at the entrance of Machu Picchu, trying to stomach a sandwich. (That’s probably not a sentence I’ll ever write again.) The truth is that it was the middle of a day I’d looked forward to for, pretty much, most of my life, and I was sick. 

Like, altitude + stomach + probably dehydration + whatever else was taking over my body and making me feel terrible, sick.

I’d made it through half of the tour we’d started that morning, after enduring the craziest (read: most puke-inducing) driving conditions I’d ever seen, along with the most beautiful train ride I’d ever taken. I’d trudged up the steps to several lookout points, taken every possible selfie with a few real smiles even, but most were half-fake. I’d pushed with everything I had, but then that moment came. 

I knew that if I didn’t sit down, I’d become a tourist casualty on the steps of one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

I’ve worn a lot of titles in my life, but that’s not one I want. 

And so I forced myself back down the too-many steps, managing to stay upright, found a place for something to drink where I could sit as long as I wanted, people watched, and chatted with a group of Canadian guys who had hiked for five days to just get to Machu Picchu. I kind of felt unworthy of their presence, but at least they were nice. And also, they couldn’t stop talking about how much they just wanted to sleep in their beds, and I totally agreed. 😉

And as I sat there, I started to ask why…Why, God? Why on this one day? You could’ve picked any other day, and You picked this one? 

Honestly, it’s probably a little early to begin processing this. (It sort of blows my mind that I’m sitting in my Chicago suburb home only three days after this all went down.) I fought back tears as I started writing this post on my phone that afternoon, trying to answer the question I was asking Him.

Why?

I felt so forgotten in the middle of one of the things I’d hoped to do for over two decades. I’d dreamed of it. It happened…and then it didn’t. Or, at least the way I wanted it to.

And here’s the thing: I know it’s not the end of the world. In comparison to the many things others are going through or even living every single day, missing half of a tour is really nothing. This is not a pity party; it’s reflection.

I spent last week among some of the strongest, bravest, kindest people I’ve ever met, people who are living out challenges I can’t even imagine. They face hardship and with every moment, they trust God and the work He’s doing in the tiniest corners of the world, the places we’d never think to vacation or visit. (Except, now I’ll visit.) I’m sure, at times, they feel forgotten.

But they’re not, and they know it, and they have this unshakable faith in God that’s hard to put into words. It’s honestly one of the most humbling things I’ve ever experienced, to hear them share stories of their faith through things that hurt so much. It brings tears to my eyes as I see their faces and know that these are my brothers and sisters, and though miles and hemispheres separate us, God’s love doesn’t.

As I sat there and reflected (and, yes, cried a little) I was reminded that my Father always sees me. He doesn’t forget me or any of us because we’re His children.

Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.
Isaiah 43:1

One of the verses God has written on my heart is this one. I’m redeemed, I’m called by Him, I’m His. And because of that, I’m never, ever forgotten. It’s a promise I return to often and choose to trust.

In reflecting over the last few days, I’ve made peace with the things I missed out on. I’ve found smiles and sweet moments in what I did get to be part of. I’ve smiled at some of the crazy photos I’ve snapped (or others have taken) to remember these life-changing days. I’ve had a few happy tears over the friendships God has grown, over the new people He has brought into my life, people I already love and am praying for.

I have a lot to be thankful for, even in the midst of something that didn’t quite turn out like I wanted it to.

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The next days will bring a lot.

And thankfully I’ve already caught up on some sleep. I’m hoping for a lot more. 😉

I’ve seen God take a missed connection and turn it into a Starbucks sipping, lots-of-extra-space flight, complete with headphones and movies…the perfect way to breathe a little before the wheels hit the runway at ORD.

I’ve seen smiles and hugs from my people, things I’ve missed so much. Because it’s true that no matter where we go, there’s no place like the home God has given us here on earth.

I’ve gone back and looked through pictures and laughed and cried and remembered and thought that maybe I’m a little crazy. But I’m not (too much, anyway)…I just love people, and God took me back to Peru to give me the chance to love even more people. That gift isn’t lost on me.

And now I get to do the work of asking Him to show me what needs to change. How do I trust Him with the life I have and also enough to be open to whatever He asks of me? How can I take my more-than-enough and use it to help others?

There’s a lot more I need (and want) to share, but first I need to process and pray (and also sleep) 😉 and ask God for what He wants from me…how I can obey Him right now.

And so, though I can’t make promises, I’m looking forward to returning to this space more often to share stories and consider things and maybe…maybe go beyond myself more than I have before.

It’s what He asks any of us, right?

So here’s to a missed tour and a day that morphed into something not at all like what I was expecting.

May I learn to find the blessing in it and remember that I am not forgotten.

None of us are.

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Sig

Filed Under: adventures, blessings, church, community, encouragement, family, friends, just life, prayer, remembering, travel, what I'm learning, where I am, writing

A Letter To My Girl: You Are Always Enough

February 23, 2019 by · 1 Comment

Always Enough final

My sweet Mae,

As I sit here in bed tonight, snuggled under a blanket and thinking about the last week or so, I can’t help but just say it. We’ve had a week. If I actually said that to you, you’d probably reference a few things.

You’d probably start with the fact that, for the first time this school year, you missed a spelling word on a Monday test. And while the rest of us are over here marveling at your mad spelling skills, I saw the look on your face that afternoon when you climbed into the van at pickup line. The tears didn’t take long to pool on your eyelids, and I hadn’t even pulled out of the parking lot before you told me you’d missed not one, but two, words. And then a friend had teased you, and that made it worse. My heart cracked a little for you that day.

As on any given week, you’d probably mention math homework, too. I am open to the very real possibility that just about every third grade parent may agree that math is the bane of our very existence between approximately 3:30-4:00 p.m. during the week. (And having actually taught third grade math in the past, I can verify that it is, indeed, the math itself and not the teachers and/or doers of math that are the bane. Please, feel deeply for your teachers, especially those of the third grade variety.) Nevertheless, it often becomes a tension point as we struggle to figure out, not just the right answer, but how you actually got that answer. Some days not just our hearts, but our words, crack, too. And we have to apologize and forgive and move forward because we love each other more than math.

And then we’d talk about the spelling bee, too, and how you and your best friend are both wonderful spellers…and how, in general, your class is pretty good at spelling. You’d tell me about how much you love E because the two of you are peas in a pod, and I’m so happy that you have each other. But when you told me on Wednesday that the last spot in the school spelling bee was coming down between the two of you, I think my heart did an inner bleed all over the place. What were the chances? And yet, you prayed and we talked and decided to give it to God and trust Him to take care of who should win, and you told me you’d be so happy for your friend if she won even if you’d be a little sad, too. And my heart didn’t break that time, but man, did it explode. And then God worked it out a little more so you could both go. You wouldn’t believe how big the smile on my face is for both of you, even tonight as I tap these words out.

And then you might get quiet and we’d talk about the thing that’s been hard. Really hard. You’d talk about the operetta (the lower grade musical) and how you got your part last week. And it wasn’t what you’d hoped for. And yet we’d prayed and asked God to give you the part you should have, but His answer wasn’t what you wanted.

But you put on your brave face through it, and you decided you’d do your very best with what you were given and cheer for your friends who got bigger parts.

And Mae, I want to tell you something. It’s a lesson that’s good for an eight year old like you, but it’s also a lesson I think every single person needs to hear.

The world is going to tell you that big and important and being seen are the things that matter most. But the world is wrong.

The truth is that there are going to be many days in your life when circumstances will make you feel like you don’t matter as much as others.  But Mae, those things don’t define your worth. Your worth is not decided in the small role you earned in a musical, whether or not you have a solo, if you win the spelling bee or if you’re the first person out. It’s not decided in the number of people who flock around you or if you have just one or two good friends. The kind of house you live in, the clothes you wear, those things don’t define you either.

Your worth was determined so long ago. Two thousand years ago at the cross, Jesus decided YOU were worth it. He wasn’t looking at the accomplishments you would or wouldn’t have, the people who would or wouldn’t like you, whether or not you’d earn the lead role in a school play. He didn’t care, then, if you would create the most beautiful art or sing with the most perfect pitch.

He saw you as a creation of your Heavenly Father, a beautiful one, and that made you worth dying for. That right there is your worth.

The world is, often, going to make you feel like being someone who is kind to others and willing to serve them isn’t enough.

The world demands the spotlight for worth, but Jesus doesn’t.

And I want you to know that and believe it with your whole heart because I’ve seen it so much. I wasn’t the girl who made the A team, got the solos, or earned the big parts. I did make the spelling bee, probably because of all the nights I read every book I could find because reading was all I had. 😉 I didn’t have a lot of friends, but I had those few faithful ones. I spent more time serving than shining, and it didn’t feel like a gift at age 13 or even at 30. It’s starting to feel like one now, though.

There were many days when it was hard to feel like I mattered, but I’m on the other side of it now, and I know, now, that those things matter. I matter. And so do you.

The world will tell you a lot of lies.

But the Bible will tell you the truth.

And the truth, Mae, is this: You are always enough.

You were enough when Jesus shed his blood for you, and you are enough today. As you are. God made you, and He doesn’t make mistakes.

He knew that the girl named Maelie Naomi, who entered the world that summer afternoon almost nine years ago, would light up the lives of the people who filled her days. He knew she would sparkle and add joy and have a creative streak found in the thousands of words she’d write in her free time and in the hundreds of art projects and drawings she’d do. He knew she’d sing a song that didn’t follow the world’s and that occasionally she’d pound it out on the piano, too. He knew she’d find a kindness through His love that she would share with those around her. He knew she’d be a treasure.

And, sweet girl, you are a treasure to so many people.

Mae, the world might not tell you that you matter. But Jesus tells you that you do.

Often, I pray Isaiah 43:1 over myself, and over you.

Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.

Mae, you are redeemed. His child.

You’ve been called by name.

You are His. His, Mae. HIS child, and there’s more worth in that than you’ll ever find in anything here on this earth.

And you may feel, today, like you don’t matter, but I want to tell you this.

You mean so much to your Father.

God is working on His masterpiece in you, and He’s not finished. Today, you are who you’re supposed to be, and in His time, He’ll make you into who you will be. Who you’ll be might be that person who shines from a stage, or you might shine for Him, instead, behind that stage. You might have a job someday where everyone notices you or you might be that stay at home mama I know you dream of being, the one who faithfully does her thing and tries to do it the best she can while desperately clinging to her mug of caffeine. You may go far and wide to preach Jesus to others or you might stay right in your neighborhood and show Jesus to the neighbors next door. You might write a bestseller (and knowing how you write, I wouldn’t be surprised) or you might be the girl who obediently writes words because God has one person out there who needs to read them.

As long as you stay with Him, walk with Him, and trust Him you’ll never miss out on a thing He has for you.

Tonight you’re going to bed with a bit of a heavy heart and sadness, wondering what went wrong. I don’t have any answers for you, sweet girl, but I do know that I love you…to the moon and back plus infinity…just as you are.

You are enough…for Him and for me, your daddy, Mac, and all those who love you.

I’m so proud of you, and I can’t wait to see what He’ll do with your life.

Love,
Mama

Photo by Dids from Pexels

Sig

Filed Under: being mommy, blessings, encouragement, family, just life, Maelie, remembering, what I'm learning, where I am, writing

Three Decades: Remembering a Friend

January 31, 2019 by · 4 Comments

Three Decades final

It’s been one of those days, the kind that I can’t exactly explain with words. But y’all know I’ll try anyway, right? 😉

I suppose that happens with surprise, Polar Vortex vacations that land smack dab in the middle of the time of year we’re not supposed to have a break from school. Kids are home, hubs is home, and we’re only venturing outside for seconds at a time, long enough for the pup to do what he absolutely must. His poor paws.

We tried to sleep in, but the toddler missed the memo, we’re wearing extra layers, and though I talked myself into a shower and brushing my teeth, that’s about it. I spent approximately three seconds on my hair before I twisted my growing-out-pixie-now-really-a bob, into a half knot, the kind reserved for only my family to see, and called it good.

Yay for freezing days off school, the kind where I can hole up in my bed during naptime under the warmest blanket I can find and tap out the words that desperately need to escape my heart. Yay, too, that these kind of days come with SO. NEEDED. extra coffee, cold toes but warm socks, and super messy hair that is somehow acceptable and doesn’t make anyone even look twice. I’ll take it allllllll. 😉

And also, it seems like the blog has been a stranger over the last few years. Instead of splashing out the words as quickly as they come, I almost overthink every letter. I confessed that to my husband this morning…and then I told him I wasn’t going to worry anymore. Ha! 😉 I guess what that actually means is that I’m just going to write, and you can feel free to stay or leave. (But please stay? Thanks.) :)

Today is one of those days for other reasons, too. And those wear a little more deeply on my heart and make the tears brim on my eyelids a little more.

January 30th is today. And though it won’t be today when I share this with you (it’ll most likely be yesterday or even two days ago because I totally sleep on my words these days before I publish them) it’s a date that doesn’t pass without me thinking about a friend.

Today it’s been thirty years. 30. Three decades is a long time.

Thirty years ago, I sat in my 5th grade classroom on a Monday morning, writing out my spelling words and trying not to think about the rumors that had somehow already started circulating between students. There’d been a car accident that morning, a 5th grade friend and his family. His sister was a year younger and a good friend of mine.

In my shaky, shy voice, I’d asked, Is my friend ok?

No one knew, and so I tried not to think about it and focused on doing what the teacher said that morning.

But when the door opened in the middle of spelling and the principal stepped into our room, we all knew something was wrong. He briefly shared the details that yes, there had been an accident and one of our 5th graders had been in it. And then he said, And K passed away.

My friend.

Even decades later, I can still take myself back to that moment, where I sat in my classroom, the jeans I was wearing, how much my hand shook as I continued to work on my writing as if, somehow, that would push it all further away and make the news less real. I remember it all.

I remember the days that followed and then sitting at a funeral two days later, gripping the hand of another girl. We were both so confused and hurt, and we couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down our cheeks as we sat hunched over, unable to even look at the casket before us.

The cemetery was slippery that day, and I remember tapping at the ice with my shoes, trying to break through it as the pastor said a prayer. I remember going home with my parents and how exhausted we all were, and so they ordered a pizza for dinner. But I don’t remember eating it because I’m not sure we were even hungry.

That was grief, at least for a ten year old who didn’t understand loss just yet.

What I knew was that my friend, the one who lived just a few blocks away, would never come over to play again. We’d never meet at the park again or ride bikes or become teenagers together. She’s with Jesus, the pastor had told us, and so I think we all clung to that as we tried to make sense of this small town tragedy that never should have happened.

And I suppose I wrapped my mind around it as best as I could, but the hurt didn’t stop even as the years went on.

Her dad was the janitor at our school, and every time I saw him, I wanted to go up and hug him and tell him, I miss her. I’m sorry. But I suppose being shy won out.

I desperately clung to the one photo I had of her, just a newspaper clipping of the local children’s choir we both sang in, knowing it was all I’d ever have. It’s still packed away in a box somewhere, now yellowed and wrinkled from the hundreds of times I held it in my hands.

I’ve thought about her often over the years. Not every day, but always every January 30th and many, many times in between. I still slip out to where she’s buried at the cemetery just outside of my hometown when I’m back visiting. Sometimes I leave her a flower and sometimes I just talk to her. I’ve thought about the friendship we might have had and I’ve also thought about what I missed and also about what her family missed.

I know they’ve thought of that, too, and ached for her probably every single day…the kind, caring girl who left this world too soon. The years have passed and a lot of memories have faded, but I haven’t forgotten the things that made her who she was, at least through the eyes of a ten (and now forty) year old.

There are things in life that change us forever, and that January morning in 1989 was one of them for me.

Losing my friend taught me, so early, that life is fragile and friends should be treasured. Our friendship wasn’t long enough for there to be things I deeply regret, but there are things I would change. I’d go back and make more memories. I’d go back and run over to the park the last day I saw her here on earth instead of just assuming we’d have tomorrow. I’d tell her that I was so glad she was my friend.

There are a lot of things I’d do…but I can’t.

And so, instead, I give myself a few moments to tear up and think about how, even thirty years later, I can learn from a loss so deep…and do better. Be a better friend, be a kinder person, be a little more like Jesus.

That’s how I can honor the life of someone who still holds a place in my heart so many years later.

And the thing is, I feel like I run to this space most often when things are harder, but the truth is that there’s a lot of good in my days. There are things to celebrate, things to write about, things I want to share, and I hope I’ll come by this space a lot more often so I can tell you about them. :)

I’m crawling out of the depths of parenting a toddler (not really…he’s still a toddler through and through) which really means that I feel like I can think coherently again, that he listens (at least sometimes) to me now, and once in a great while I can reason with him enough to talk him into an orange instead of yet An.Oth.Er. package of foosaks. (Fruit snacks.) 😉 I’m watching my sweet, eight plus year-old girl fly and do her thing, and it’s pretty darn amazing to see, even in the midst of the struggles that come with becoming.

There’s redemption and sweetness with my marriage, too, and while some of those details need to stay quiet, there are some I’d like to share, so I sure hope I’ll make it back here often to do that.

My Father keeps painting His story for me, and I love it.

Life is sweet, even in the midst of a wave of grief and the in-between emotions of missing someone I wish could still be part of my life.

But the journey we’re on is about learning from every twist and turn, crack and crevice, mountain and valley, about taking the sweet with the bitter and the glorious with the heartbreak…knowing, always, where our destination is and shining Him on our way there.

Maybe that’s what I’m taking from the words I wrote today…I’m taking the sweetness of a friendship that ended here on earth too soon and holding on to what she left me with.

May I use those things to love people a little better than I did yesterday.

Thank you, God, for my friend, for weaving our lives together for the season You did. And for today and the thousands that have happened since I hugged her.

You are good. So. Good.

Photo by Anthony from Pexels

Sig

Filed Under: blessings, encouragement, friends, just life, loss, remembering, where I am, writing

The Dance Between Now and Heartbreak

September 7, 2018 by · 15 Comments

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There was a time not so long ago when I’d sit down and the words would pour out. I’d share my heart, my life, and the flavor of coffee creamer I was currently obsessing over with anyone who might listen.

As (slightly) self-indulgent as it sounds, those were good days.

I felt like someone and something in this great, big, bloggy world…and like I might be making a tiny difference when my words were out there, perfectly crafted or imperfectly messy. Either way was ok.

They were my words.

And then the words got fewer and further between and, for awhile, almost completely stopped. There are seasons of life like that, and as the words fell off and away, much like the leaves fall from the mighty oaks in my side yard during October, I entered a season of winter. And like every season, I knew it would pass.

We moved through the pain of heartbreak over a miscarriage, the loss of our sweet first golden, a life-threatening pregnancy gifting us with unimaginable joy and total chaos in the form of a little boy, and marriage difficulties that threatened to tear us apart.

It felt as if winter were lifting just a tad, and then things got hard again. It’s not like I expected them NOT to…life isn’t supposed to be a smooth ride around a predictable, even track.

But the fog was lifting a bit, and there was some clarity. Even joy.

And every day has been a dance since then…not always the good kind, but a dance. I was never a good dancer, and sometimes I can picture myself as a ballerina, but then I laugh over the obvious grace that would not accompany me, were I to be center stage in a tutu. (BAHAHAHA!!!) 😀

K, I needed to publicly laugh that one out. Mad love to all the ballerinas out there…YOU are AH.MAZE.ING.

There’s joy some days…smiles, laughs, and I think to myself, I can do this thing. I can raise this toddler boy and love my daughter well and even be a good wife, the kind who thinks ahead on dinner and stays up on laundry and (GASP) keeps the dining room table clean.

And then there are the days when I’m not those things, and it’s hard. It hurts. And life becomes more difficult. Those difficulties aren’t earth shattering, really. Like I said, they’re life.

But sometimes, life smacks us hard.

There’s this sweet doggie boy, our Sammy, who has shared our lives and our love over the last almost-thirteen-years and has poured so much into our family just by being him, and we know the end is near. We’ve been told there’s a tumor and we’ve got months at best, and in the middle of all the other struggles, I find myself waiting for heartbreak.

And it’s so, so hard. Some days, I really have to remind myself to breathe as I look at his sweet golden face and the joy he has brought us.

I can’t imagine our days without Sammy, and yet we know they’re coming.

And it’s this kind of dance I’m tripping through right now…the kind that soaks up every single moment because we have to but knowing that things can turn tomorrow, and our hearts will shatter even more.

I hate the in-between.

And I have fought God on it with all of my being some days…yet the other days I find some type of reconciliation and cuddle my Sam a little closer and remind him that, even though he can’t hear me at all, he has been an absolute gift to us, and we love him so much. SO much.

And I’m not even sure why I’m pouring out all of this, mostly-unedited and all-messy, and sharing it today except I think it might be necessary for me as I try to figure out how to say goodbye to a constant in our lives, one who made our lives better and some days just made us smile a bit more through the dark times.

Maybe I don’t have a right to hurt so deeply, especially over a dog. But as any dog owner knows…they’re never just that. There’s a deep ache in the pit of my stomach all the time. I don’t suppose it will go away for awhile, even if there’s full surrender and even if it’s the kind that says, It’s ok, God. It really is.

Because it is.

Ok.

At the end of the day, much like the rest of us, God has always known how long we’d have this doggie boy. He knew…on that heart-wrenching day, eleven years ago (ironically, exactly eleven years ago) when I found myself, face down on the floor, pouring out my heart and begging Him for one more day with my missing dog…He knew He’d give us almost eleven years more instead.

I serve a good Father, and so even as the pit deepens and aches just a bit more and the tears fall hard and steady, streaking my eyeliner, I can cling to His goodness and know that as we face something so sad…He’s there. Has always been and will always be.

It’s the lesson I’ve always come back to when I think of Sammy…that God has shown Himself faithful, and He’ll continue to.

Maybe you’re there today, friend? I don’t know. I just know how much I need that reminder as I stroke my hand through his fur and rub his ear yet another time, hoping and praying we’ll still have tomorrow.

It’s the dance between the now and the heartbreak I know is coming. I guess we call it life?

But I’ll dance it in flip flops and jeans with tear-filled eyes and cling to the Goodness I know is my Father. May you see His goodness today, too, no matter where your circumstances find you. And may you love a little deeper, knowing it’s all a gift.

And a good gift.

Thank you, God, for Sammy and for today.

Sammy2

Sig

Filed Under: adventures, blessings, dogs, encouragement, family, Indonesia, just life, loss, miscarriage, remembering, where I am, writing

Between Hello and Goodbye: the Story of a Table

December 31, 2017 by · 3 Comments

newtable final

I remember the Sunday afternoon in June of 2002 when we bought it. We didn’t really have the extra time in our day…in just a few hours I had to be back to sing at church, and so it was a quick trip. But the new-to-us, very-empty house on Abbott Avenue, where my husband was partying up (not really) the remainder of his bachelor days before our wedding, needed to be filled up. Somehow. And so we drove, probably too fast, the 45 minutes to look at some used furniture.

The family was selling most of what they owned, and so after we’d agreed on a price for their bedroom set, they showed us their other offerings. Among them, the table.

It was a beautiful, nearly new, cherry finish with six matching chairs, and to this just-starting-out couple, it looked like something well beyond what we could…or should…own. I remember how I gave that hopeful smile to Tobin, but in my heart I knew our bank account couldn’t do it.

But they gave us an offer so good that we said yes. We made quick arrangements to return, pay for, and pick up everything, before sprinting back to church that evening.

We got married that August, and as soon as we returned to our home following our honeymoon, that table became a gathering place.

We’d invite people to share meals and conversations with us, always seated in those six chairs. We’d laugh over silly board games, we’d eat too many tacos over shared stories of how God was leading us and then, where He was taking us when, just a few years later, we followed His call to the other side of the world.

That table was passed around to different families during the five years we were gone…and though we never heard the stories that happened at it, I’m sure there were plenty of laughs, probably some tears, and many, many memories.

And then we came back, and our table was waiting for us…maybe a little more used and lived at, but still our table.

And very quickly, it resumed doing what it had always done…it became the place where we shared life.

It saw us through early baby years, many toddler meals, scritches and scratches because that’s what kids do to furniture…and many, many more memories.

A few months ago we began to look for something new. We knew it was getting close to the time when it needed to be replaced, or at least repaired heavily, and with the remodel and changes going on at our house, it was a good time. We placed an order for the farmhouse table of my dreams, the kind you only get once in your life…and that was that.

This past Friday, my husband and a friend picked up the new table. They carried it in through a snowstorm because that’s just how we roll, and I took my sweet time admiring it.

But it needed something, and so I took the vase of still-kinda-alive flowers from our old table and placed them in the center.

Later that night, we started cleaning off the old table…my husband was going to take it apart until we could get it listed for sale or find someone who needed it. Once we’d cleaned it off, he leaned it down on its side to take the legs off, and SNAP!

It broke. Irreparably broke.

As I held it so he could finish the job and then move the pieces outside, we talked about all the life that had been lived at that table. It’s held conversations with friends we won’t see again until heaven, tears in some of the hardest seasons of our lives, laughs and giggles and sound effects as our kids grew and changed and tried new foods. 😉

It’s held seasons upon seasons that have built our lives into what they are.

I wrote blog post after blog post at that table, I wrote a book and just a few weeks ago, started another one. I’ve cried into the pages of my Bible more times than I can count there, and I’m sure there were days when the tears rolled right off those pages to the table.

The table was the source of most of our fights and disagreements as it was my makeshift office, art center, and landing space in the middle of all the rest that should actually happen at a dining room table.

It was truly the most tangible center of our lives, and so it seems appropriate that at the end of a December we replaced it with a new one.

There’s a bittersweet feeling in me this morning as I run my fingers over the edge of this new one. It’s beautiful in its ruggedness…the old that we, for some reason in this crazy culture, pay extra for. 😉 I have no doubt that thousands of memories will be created at this one, too…that life in its rawest and realest and most precious moments will be spilled out as friends and family share their hearts here.

My eyes fall on the flowers in the center, and they hold the simplest of lessons for me, but it’s one I desperately want to cling to as this year comes to a close.

Every year…EVERY ONE…holds beauty. I can’t think of a year we’ve had when something wonderful didn’t happen. But I also can’t think of a year when something hard didn’t happen, too…whether it was a heartache or a struggle or a sickness or a loss.

That’s just life, isn’t it?

But we took the good from the broken and moved forward, determined to let our Father make something beautiful from it all. And that’s kind of how I feel about our new table…there are all kinds of possibilities about to be lived out there as we move from what was, what is, and what will be tomorrow.

I don’t know where you find yourself this December 31st. Maybe it’s smiling and anxious for a year full of new beginnings. Or, maybe not. Maybe you’re hurting from 2017 and not sure how you’ll face 2018. I think I fall somewhere between the two of those.

I don’t have a lot of answers, but I do know…I do know this. I know God can always take broken and make it beautiful, old and make new. I know He brings life through the hellos and goodbyes, through the changes and the moving forward.

Maybe you need that reminder. I know I do.

Here’s to 2017…a year that held a lot of life for our family.

And here’s to 2018…a year that will hold even more.

family pic 2017 final

Our house has been under construction since summer…some of you have asked about that. It’s going great, and soon I’ll be able to show you lots more! But for now, I’ll leave you with a family photo that perfectly depicts our 2017.
Under construction, yes.
Messy? Yeah, almost every day.
But somehow…it’s still beautiful.
And we’re so grateful.

Sig

Filed Under: blessings, encouragement, family, friends, just life, marriage, remembering, where I am, writing

Confessions from a Tired, Whole30 Mama Who Needs to Tweeze Her Eyebrows

September 15, 2017 by · 4 Comments

coffee table final
So I typed out that title and laughed a little because it’s totally and completely 100% true. The tired part AND the Whole30 part AND the part where I tell you that I have largely ignored my eyebrows for my entire life.

But I’ll get to that later.

First we must sit down with something to drink, preferably coffee since I can still drink that on Whole30…thank you, Jesus…and talk about the tired. 😉 I kind of wish we could chat it up in real life because, let’s be honest, for most of us it’s been way too long. But since this is the best we can do today…well, let’s get to it. :)

I was telling the sweet, fellow-mama cashier at Walmart yesterday, as she rang up my…AHEM…eyebrow mascara, that there will be a day, again, when we shall sleep. I don’t know when that day is, and it may very well be in heaven, though I’d like to think there’s hope of it happening before then. Now don’t go getting all theological on me. If God is creating a place of pure and absolute joy for us, then I have to believe there will be naps. (Uninterrupted ones with fuzzy blankets and just the right amount of darkness and rain on my mansion rooftop to accompany them.)

But, enough about heaven. For now, I’m tired.

When we had Mae, I didn’t know how good we had it. She was an instant sleeper and slept through the night, EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT., from 7:30 p.m. to 7:00 a.m., at FIVE AND A HALF WEEKS.

Let’s just let that sink in.

I thought it was normal and surely a result of reading (sort of) and implementing (kind of) this book.

Easy peasy stuff.

She has continued to sleep like an absolute champ, and while there are other things we struggle with, sleep is not one of them. Bless it all and her, forever and ever, AMEN.

Mae 7 years final(Isn’t she SO grown up? I just adore this girl.) :)

And then, there’s Mac…probably, and by that I mean absolutely, the happiest kid I’ve ever seen. He’ll give a smile to anyone, and he’s full of cute words and giggles and kisses and love. But sweet little smiley boy that he is, sleep is NOT his gift.

Here are the facts: I’m over-the-moon lucky to get one good nap from him a day. And nights? He almost always maxes out by 5:00 a.m.

Oh, dear Lord, I pray as I hear him whimper each morning. Aroused from sleep and aware of my insatiable need to pee, I refuse to move even the slightest. (This is helped, not at all, by the fact that he is in the alcove attached to our room. I CANNOT WAIT for our addition to be finished and for there to be a DOOR. on. his. ROOM.)

Hallelujah and another amen. 😀

Once in a very great while, he’ll have a cup of milk and go back to sleep until 6:15 or so. But not always.

And so there have been many early mornings and a tired mama often. Always, perhaps?

I am blessed by this sweet face. He is pure joy, and it’s a good thing because I would like a nap pretty much every single moment of my entire life, currently.

Mac laughing finalAnd let’s be honest. He may be the cutest little boy ever.
(In my incredibly unbiased opinion.) 😉

The other day, I was examining the crows feet that have taken up residence in the corners of my eyes. I sort of wanted to cry as I realized that we are here, and next year my age will not begin with a three. No, no it won’t.

And while I’m planning to celebrate with a huge party of epic proportions, it’s all kind of sinking in right now.

And then there are my eyebrows, which are really close to those crows feet.

To be honest, I’ve ignored them pretty much my entire life.

Oh, I’m a makeup girl. Not a ton, but you’d better believe that there’s powder, mascara, and eyeliner involved before 8 a.m. every day. (Except Saturday.) But my eyebrows have never bugged me too much, so I just kind of left them alone.

Except now. NOW they’re changing to grayish. What on earth?!?! And I’ve been dying my hair for years because hello, genes, but eyebrows? What does one do with those?

So off to Walmart I went this week. Mac and I wandered the makeup aisles and finally found a little tube of the right color of eyebrow mascara (I. KNOW. RIGHT.) I’m probably the last person to know it existed.

And so I bought that tube, and we came home, and I tried it out, and HOLY EYEBROWS. They exist! And my daughter told me they look weird, but I’m going with the opinion of the girl who actually knows how to. use. makeup. 😉 So I think they don’t actually look too terrible, except now I can see every hair, and NOW I am going to have to tweeze them.

Yikes.

Should I wax them instead? Please send help???

And also, it would be a total injustice to my current existence to leave out the part where I also confess that it’s Whole30 time again for this girl. Friends, my jeans don’t fit. And out of all the eating plans I’ve ever done, this one helps them fit the fastest. (Even though it’s not technically a weight loss program. But let’s be honest…when you remove sugar and dairy and grains and beans and alcohol from anyone’s diet, they’re gonna lose weight.)

So, while I wait to recover my lost sleep and long for some dark chocolate and tweeze my eyebrows, you can most likely find me with a cup of black coffee and a bowl of cauliflower rice which, contrary to what everyone says, is NOT an acceptable substitute for the real thing. It tastes like…Cauliflower. Blech.

But I do like the part where I can eat bacon. So there’s that, too.

Life…it’s just a beautiful mess, isn’t it? Every day.

But then, every day, too, there are always reasons to smile. It’s September (one of my favorite months), fall is on its way…and hellloooooo to all the hoodies and boots and things that can be made pumpkin spice, even if they shouldn’t be. 😉 Why can’t we just live in September all the time?

The kiddos are growing, changing, becoming even more of who God made them to be. Hubby and I…we’re good, too. Still growing in Him and in life and in marriage. Perfect, no…but He’s not done working on us yet.

Community still continues to be a precious gift…a beautiful one that is sometimes a challenge but always a blessing. The roots for our family are being dug even deeper, and the joy that comes from anticipating a lifetime in this place is good. He’s good.

And I’m thankful that, despite horrible sleeping patterns and funky eyebrows and a bit of a pudgy belly that spills over the top of my jeans…that God meets me anyway.

He loves me despite those and in spite of me and the way I run ahead of Him often and try to do things my own way and, instead, just end up making a mess of things.

And I wasn’t really planning on ending up here today, but I did. And so I’d like to share this with you.

One of my dreams is coming true this year.

AMTB_PreOrder_Square final

I’m over-the-moon humbled and so very grateful to be included in this book as an author. :) And there’s a part of me that does an inner, WOOHOO!!! scream every time I see the cover, but honestly, letting it sink in makes my eyes well up with tears, too. The happy kind. 

It’s one that’s for people like me…the ones who want to follow Jesus and make him their all every single day, even in the middle of the mess.

You can pre-order it here, and if you do, you get that super cute mug FREE from Dayspring, too. (Ummm…yes, please!) :) I feel like you kinda can’t lose with extra time with Jesus and another cute mug to drink coffee out of. (And mine will have creamer in it in 25 days, too!)

You know what? You all bless me, just for taking the time to read the random words that spill out of my heart through my fingertips. I may not ever author a published novel or be a storyteller who goes viral, but I’m a writer, and it’s very much a piece of what defines me. I’m learning to speak that and believe it.

And so it means the world when you read my words.

Blessings, hugs…and may you go eat a piece of chocolate for me today since I can’t. 😉

Happy Friday!

Sig

Filed Under: (in)courage, adventures, being mommy, blessings, coffee, community, encouragement, family, friends, just life, Mac, Maelie, marriage, reading, Tobin, what I'm learning, where I am, writing

Wandering Home

August 29, 2017 by · 1 Comment

Wandering Home final 2

I had determined that so much time would not pass before I wrote again, but six months happened anyway.

Six months of life and joy and ups and downs and all the things that come from what happens when less and less time is spent at a keyboard.

I miss it, often. Most days, really.

But I also see the gift in giving myself the freedom to breathe away from screens and, instead, sit on the floor and play with bristle blocks. I didn’t even know they existed until my little boy came along.

Somewhere in the last six months…

…we went from first to second grade.

…we went from seven months to thirteen, six to seven, 38 to 39, and someone, who shall remain unnamed, found his 40’s. 😉

…we went from fourteen years married to a milestone. 15.

…we laughed and cried, fought and rebuilt, hurt but chose love.

…we built a thousand plus more memories.

…we turned a two bedroom to a working-on-becoming-three-with-an-extra-family-room thrown in there. Hello, awesome construction and MORE space. 😀

And so much more. (Including miserably failing at anything related to writing.) 😉

I’ve never been the type to stick my roots down. I think insecurity and painful childhood memories have a lot to do with that. When I actually did fall under the title of nomad, I reveled in it. The freedom to go and see and do…

And leave.

Yet, here we are, and the house at #127 has the deepest roots we’ve found so far. I’m not sure they’ll ever really be yanked up, and that’s oh-so-good.

And hard. Some days, really hard.

The July day we broke ground was the day my Indonesia heart broke a little, too. No one knew because I masked it with a big smile, but I knew that, most likely, an Indonesia life wasn’t in the plans for us anymore. My heart has always longed to return, somehow. Short-term, probably, but long enough to love again. But God has to move in all hearts, not just the emotional one.

And so, above dragging my family across the world and tearing us from a place we all love, I choose to honor God’s calling for us in this season. I press into the relationships and hang on to those that need a little extra hanging-on-to. They’re precious, and friends like this don’t walk into my life every day. I cover our lives in prayer because we always need it, but I think we all need it a little more right now. If that even makes sense.

I choose to invest, even on the days when it hurts; I smile when I sing a praise song because even though the act of praising is sometimes bittersweet, the God I’m singing to is unchanging. Always the same.

And we breathe silently and deeply, the kind of breath that catches in our throats because another year has passed…and we walk our girl to her second grade classroom, where she flits off and gets ready to fly just a little more. And tears pool in the corners of our eyes as we watch it all. But then the stories of recess and art-creating, of singing songs and learning math spill out of her at the pick-up line, and I know to the depths what a blessing this all is.

But my wandering heart is still learning to stay anchored to the One Who holds me.

And so I stumble out of bed every single morning, a bit earlier than I’d like thanks to the baby boy who enjoys those early hours. I sip a little extra coffee, find some time and space for my Father and what He has for me that day, and then she rises so we can really start the day. It’s routine…it’s our becoming.

The kind of becoming that teaches us, again, that no matter where we go, He is always with us. But the part of that verse I never see there, and maybe He just meant to imply it because we should already know it, is that wherever we stay, He’s there, too.

I’m finding myself again slowly, in the most close-to-Jesus way possible. I know he’s my everything, and so I lack nothing.

But sometimes I still wander.

Away from my blog, away from what I should be doing, and even, at times, away from Him.

I’m so, so grateful He doesn’t wander from me.

There’s a lot of life not shared here anymore…and I miss that part. I was half-joking, kind-of bragging to friends the other night that when it comes to words, I’ve still got it. 😉 But the truth is that sometimes He asks silence from us so He can quiet us and teach us more than we’d learn if we were making noise all the time.

So that’s our season. For now.

Seasons definitely change, and I don’t know what the next one will look like. But I do know Who tells every leaf where to fall.

And so I’ll wander a little bit more, looking for His next plan…but I’ll always wander back to Him.

I’ll always wander back to Him, because in the end, He’s Home.

Sig

Filed Under: being mommy, blessings, community, encouragement, family, friends, Indonesia, just life, Mac, Maelie, marriage, prayer, remembering, Tobin, what I'm learning, where I am, writing

Thoughts and Favorites (+ a Giveaway!)

February 27, 2017 by · 45 Comments

almostspring

Or, we could just call this piece the everything-all-at-once post.

😉

As usual, it’s been too long since I’ve found this place. Life just keeps zipping by, and I can’t believe it’s almost March and that I have a seven month old.

Time can slow down Any. Day.

I started writing a pretty deep post last night…and when I hit 1,400 words and was still only about half there, I decided maybe now’s not the time for (too) deep thoughts. Though there’s plenty of rambling going on here.

You’ve been warned. 😀

But occasionally I have a day when there are a zillion thoughts swirling that aren’t as deep, and so why not hit the blog? Mac is napping, it’s a beautiful sunny day, and I’m basically killing time until we can sneak out for a walk. (And last week when we had those gorgeous, basically-spring temps? It was Mac’s first time sitting up in the stroller and…OH. MY. HEART.)

Mac in stroller

But back to writing…the honest truth is that I’ve been pretty quiet the last year. It felt like the internet was so, SO noisy, and I just felt overwhelmed even entering conversations. And so I’ve hung back and learned to be still and listen more…and it’s been really, really good. Mostly.

But writing is the one thing I don’t want to be too silent on. Sharing words gives me life. I’m not ready to hang up this place yet.

So I’ll keep running back to it and finding words when there are some.

I also haven’t done a favorites post in forever, so I thought I’d do that, too. You know, because sometimes it’s just good to catch up on life, if not for the good of everyone else, at least for me. And how about a giveaway? Cause I love a good one. (Keep going.) :)

READ

I’ve been reading a lot.

Mostly the Bible…I started the beginning of the year in 1 Samuel, and I decided to just read straight through. Some days it’s eight chapters (usually not, though) and some days it’s two. I’m just trying to open my Bible more…and I’m finding that, for the first time in my life, I’m enjoying it. That sort of makes me sad to say, especially after five years of Bible college, but it’s pretty true.

I’m thankful that God doesn’t give up on us.

He’s renewing my heart and showing me a deeper relationship with Him.

I’ve been reading through a couple other books, too…slower than normal, but sometimes I can’t process it all at once, ya know? 😉

The Broken Way (Ann Voskamp) is amazing. I got so excited when it came out that I ordered a few copies. And the study guide. And the DVD. So if you’re local, there might be a Bible study coming up sometime. :)

Uninvited (Lysa TerKeurst) This one just speaks to the season I’m in right now. Some relationships are a little up and down/confusing, I’m not sure where I fit anymore, and I need the reminder that God wants me…even on the days when no one else does. Maybe we all need that reminder?

WEAR

I’m a sucker for cute hoodies, and I’ve loved Evy’s Tree since I first heard about them. Their hoodies are awesome quality but a little on the expensive side…but once in awhile, I splurge.

cutehoodie

I spent some of my Christmas money on this beauty, and I think it was worth the splurge. :) It screams spring, and I love that, until I tone the last bit of my baby belly, it hides it all…well, when I zip it up anyway. 😉 Plus, it’s just cute. If I had an endless cash flow, I would buy ALL. THE. HOODIES. But I don’t and that’s probably better for everyone. :) And yes, yes I do take pics late at night with messy hair and smeared makeup and a wrinkled shirt. That’s just how I roll.

Speaking of toning a baby belly (and not speaking of hoodies) I finally, for the first time ever in the U.S., joined a gym. I’ve been doing a 5:45 a.m. spin class twice a week…and oh, boy. Once I get there, it’s actually enjoyable. (And sweaty) The dragging myself out of bed at 5:15? Notsomuch. But it’s good for me, and it’s one way I can take care of me.

Another thing I’m still loving…earrings. ALL the earrings. 😉 And though I typically gravitate toward the bigger-and-more-dangly-the-better, kind, my most recent pair from Fair Trade Friday kind of has my heart. And the story behind these brings tears to my eyes, too.

FTF earrings

So I’m breaking my rule and wearing them anyway and totally loving them. :)

And should you want a cute pair of earrings in your mailbox every month, go here. It’s the best $13 I spend every month…and every pair comes with a story of redemption. That’s just cool. :)

WATCH

Other than This is Us (and we’re two episodes behind, so SHHHHH!) or some HGTV here and there, I’ve barely turned on the TV in weeks. I go in spurts…lately I’d just rather read or create or get something done around the house.

Maybe I’m getting old. 😉

The truth…and this isn’t the first time I’ve shared this here…is that the “older” I get and the older Mae gets, the more there’s a filter on what comes into this house.

I didn’t always filter what I watched, but especially now it just seems like there’s so much garbage out there. I don’t need all kinds of bad language going into my head, and I don’t need sexual references in just about every show there is. Sometimes I feel like an old prude for voicing all of that. And some days I miss watching Friends, too. (Honesty here.)

But God has been working on me in a lot of ways, and one of those is praying for the strength through Him to make choices that honor Him. So I don’t apologize for trying to do the right thing…the right thing for me and my family. I’m definitely not perfect at it. (No judgment here on what’s right for everyone else.) It’s tough some days, though…and I think it’s ok to admit that, too.

GO

I’m itching to take a trip…it’s been a few years since we’ve left the country, but it’s not gonna happen this year. We’re currently having our garage door replaced, and that desperately needed to happen. (Ask me sometime about the morning I spent three minutes, when we were already late, trying to get the stupid thing to stay down.) 😀

AND…since Mac was a boy instead of a girl, we need another bedroom. 😉  And I LOVE that he’s a boy, but facts are facts. So we’re (hopefully) adding a two-story addition to our house. I’m super excited for an extra family room, a bigger bedroom for him and us (with a walk-in closet and little sitting/writing/drinking coffee area overlooking the river) and just more space.

I guess we finally dug those roots down deep. It feels good.

And also, we’re never moving. Ever. :)

indo green

And the truth is that, most days, I’m sure of that. I don’t usually miss Indonesia anymore.

But I did today. I saw a picture that brought back a memory, and it was hard and the ache was deep. And, again, I had to breathe and wrap my mind around the fact that the Indonesia part of our life is over.

Forever.

It won’t ever be again, even if there are trips back to visit. Life there has changed and gone on and morphed into something that isn’t the Indo we lived. It’s good because life has to keep going and kids need to know our Father, but sometimes it hurts that we aren’t there for it all.

But we know we’re where we need to be, and so…hello, house addition. :)

As I look out the window and see the sunshine coming through bare branches, it calms my heart and reminds me, once again, that my God is so very good.

Even in the changes and the unknowns and wonderings. Even if, sometimes, we have to stop and just give thanks for what was, what is, and what’s to come…even if, and especially when, we don’t feel gratitude.

I wonder how many times I can share this song on one blog…but it’s a perfect metaphor for life and it resonates so much right now.

And everything that’s new has bravely surfaced,
Teaching us to breathe.
And what was frozen through is newly purposed,
Turning all things green.
So it is with You and how You make me new
with every season’s change;
And so it will be, as You are recreating me…
Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring

And how ’bout a giveaway? Nothing like changing the subject. 😉

Presents are my love language and I just feel like brightening someone’s day. So I fell in love with this Pioneer Woman mug at Walmart a few weeks ago. (Yes, you read the Walmart part right. I’m currently on a stay-out-of-Target-for-the-sake-of-our-budget kick. And I’m doin’ good.) 😉

giveaway2017

So I’m giving away this mug, some of my favorite coffee (try it with some vanilla almond milk…YUM!) and this chocolate because duh. Chocolate. And a cute pair of fair trade earrings that came in my box last month…they weren’t as much my style, but they’re still stinkin’ cute and someone out there needs them. :)

Wanna win?

Leave me a comment here or on facebook and tell me something. Anything. A blessing, a smile, a way I can lift a prayer for you. I’ll pick a winner Wednesday night.

That’s it.

I hope your week is overflowing with blessings, friends. Happy Monday!

Sig

Filed Under: adventures, being mommy, blessings, encouragement, family, fashion, giveaway, Indonesia, just life, Mac, Maelie, random, reading, where I am, writing

On Seasons and Sleep…and Giving Thanks

November 22, 2016 by · 6 Comments

path-grass-lawn-meadow-final
It’s been a long time. A really, really long time.

And I don’t know why this morning is any different from the other mornings other than I feel like there are some words. So I should write them, yeah? :)

Potentially it’s because I browsed facebook for all of five minutes this morning and dissolved into a puddle of tears twice because of Humans of New York and CBS. (Thanks, guys.) And then I watched a story last night, too…this one. And it made me weep because that’s just what I do these days, apparently. (Though…major tissue alert. Just sayin’ that right now.)

Maybe those tears are pushing the words out, I don’t know.

Or maybe it’s that the last two nights I’ve been out cold before 9 p.m. (Actually, the first night was 6:30. SIX-THIRTY, y’all.) Clearly I’m catching up on sleep. This is sort of funny, but I fell asleep in my puffer vest and leggings last night…the night before it was in my jeans and hoodie. Who needs pajamas?! 😉

At any rate, it’s not even 6:30 a.m. 7 a.m. and I’ve already had two three (and a half) cups of coffee and am considering stock in Kleenex.

So it might be that kind of blog post. We’ll see. But I haven’t written in a long time, and I miss it sometimes. So I’m guessing there will be a lot of words this morning. (You’ve been warned.) :)

It’s honestly been a random sort of existence lately.

I don’t so much remember this with Mae, but I’m sure it happened then, too. It’s just that with her, I never had to be anywhere. We never had to do anything. So our normal was whatever the day brought. With Mac…it’s different.

We have a first grader to keep up with…and she needs to get to school, be picked up, have her mama there for certain things. It’s all good and it’s all beautiful, but it’s changed the baby game plan I had in my head. The kind that looked like two solid naps a day, sleeping through the night…all that good stuff with which I was so incredibly spoiled with Mae. (But I’ve tried not too compare my kids. Too much.) 😉

The truth is that I’ve loved watching my daughter grow up, even though it’s bittersweet. Every day I take her to school, and my heart pinches and explodes at the same time…leaving her there. Knowing it’s right, but accepting that it’s going so, so fast. I mean, look at this girl! Seriously. So. Grown. Up.

maemommy-2-final

She’s such a cool person, in my incredibly unbiased opinion. 😉 She writes plays that make us laugh our heads off, she fills up journals at the age of six, she’s asked to “real blog” (though I won’t let her use her domain just yet), she’s rocking the big sister role, and she’s reading chapter books with her reading light, late at night when she’s supposed to be sleeping. She’s got such a tender heart, always praying for others and hurting when they hurt.

I don’t know God’s plans for her, but I know they’re going to be amazing. I just love this girl.

maemac-final

And watching her be Big Sissy to this Little Man? Oh, my heart. (In a puddle all over the floor.) I was so, so worried about two kids, girl and boy, six years apart. And, yet…Mac completes our family…and these two. Just the best.

Baby boy keeps growing and changing because that’s what little boys do, and it seems like it’s already going way too fast. Flying. HOW is he four months old already?!  He’s rolling over and moving around tons, and I think he’s getting ready to crawl. OY. And, judging by the amount of drool he produces, I’m pretty sure that teeth aren’t too far off either. WHERE is time going? Ah, this face. Melting again.

mac-final

It’s Thanksgiving week, and I really love this time of year. It’s starting to get colder, which might not be my favorite…but a change in seasons always makes me stop and think about life and how there are always changes. Challenges. Sometimes pain. But a lot of joy, too.

On Saturday, fall-ish winter finally arrived. I (somewhat painfully) put the flip flops away and put on an actual coat as the temps dipped into the 20’s and 30’s…and I was forced to reconcile with the fact that my toes will now need to be covered for approximately five months. (Give or take. And here in the bi-polar Midwest, it will probably be give.) :)

Sometimes I gripe about change, but the truth is that I enjoy it most of the time. I like the surprises of life, and I love a good adventure. Sometimes change brings hurt, too…but I’m learning to deal with that. Just like I’m learning to put on a winter coat. Because…reality. I live in Illinois, and it’s November. 😉

Our last year has been full of change, for sure.

Sometimes I look back and am amazed we survived. Or, me at least. 😉 A year ago, I’d just seen the positive pregnancy test, and a few days later I was already vomiting my guts out. (Sorry for that bit of graphic information.) And as the weeks progressed, it became apparent that, if baby was going to make it, I needed help. (And IVs and lots and lots of medication.) We were scared…there are side effects and unknowns that come with those things, and I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I was worried there would be something wrong with my baby boy. But God…He’s good, and Mac is healthy. Though I do wish he’d take naps! (We’ll save that post for another day.) 😉

macmommy-finalSorry for my freakishly large-looking hand.
Selfies will do that to ya. 😉

I truly have so, SO much to be thankful for, and no doubt, topping the list is a sweet little boy named Mac. My little family, my friends…many of whom ARE my family, a place to live, more than I will ever need, prayers answered beyond what I could have imagined by a Father Who loves me more than I will ever understand.

Life is really good, even if it’s really random.

And thank goodness there’s coffee to help survive the random. 😉

This has always been one of my favorite songs. It’s been around awhile now, but…I still love it. Maybe having a listen will bless your day, too.

I’m so thankful for all of you. Happy Thanksgiving. :)

Sig

Filed Under: adventures, being mommy, blessings, coffee, encouragement, family, friends, just life, Mac, Maelie, music, prayer, pregnancy, random, remembering, Tobin, where I am, writing

Stepping Back

October 26, 2016 by · Leave a Comment

biblecoffeefinal2

I was so close to quitting it all. SO close.

Sometimes life has a funny way of telling us that’s the best thing, right?

Things were getting overwhelming and I felt, often, that I struggled to even keep my head above water. Between being a wife and a mama and now a NEW mama, six years later, who was re-entering the infant stage…let’s just say it was all becoming too much.

My house looked like a tornado had ripped through it, the dishes continually piled up, I couldn’t remember to actually finish a load of laundry in one day, and let’s not even talk about how many times I didn’t cook dinner…

AND? I was doing good to keep the kids (yes, kidS…plural now) fed and alive.

That’s how life felt two months ago when I messaged my dear friend, Alecia, and told her I needed a break from God-sized Dreams.

I was taking that oh-SO-much-needed break…but in the back of my mind, I wondered if it was a step toward being done with the site, too.

Between an extremely difficult pregnancy and, now, a brand-new baby boy…and trying to give everything I could to my family and life here, I didn’t feel like I had much to offer to other dreamers.

Today I’m over at God-sized Dreams, sharing a little about life lately and where I am now. I hope you’ll join me here. :)

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Sig

Filed Under: being mommy, blessings, community, encouragement, family, friends, God-Sized Dreams, just life, Mac, Maelie, prayer, Tobin, what I'm learning, where I am, writing
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