This morning I woke up singing. Well, humming rather as most of the house was still asleep. Through out my shower and getting ready for church, while I prepared the pot roast in the crockpot that was supposed to be lunch but has now turned into supper, the same song I sang over and over and over ...
The sun comes up, it's a new day dawning
It's time to sing Your song again
Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me
Let me be singing when the evening comes
Bless the Lord, O my soul
O my soul
Worship His holy name
Sing like never before
O my soul
I'll worship Your holy name
The morning went on. My $7 Cover Girl blush fell on the bathroom floor and shattered. I couldn't find anything to wear in a closet full of clothes. The 16 year old ate pizza for breakfast. The 18 year old was in a grumpy mood. We loaded up the truck and headed to church - but not without stopping for $3-a-can Energy Coffee drinks. You just can't do worship without Starbucks. Both kids had their iPods blaring through their ear buds and their smart phones were constantly buzzing with incoming texts. I posted a pretty clever status on my Facebook about how in love I am and shared with Instagram-land the afore-mentioned pot roast. The seat warmers in the truck were of course on and I fished through my name-brand bag for some lotion.
I was completely unsuspecting.
We sit in the back row, left of the aisle, left side of the pew. I like our church. A lot. I'm new there of course, and every Sunday I really enjoy the message. We go to a charming Baptist church in the middle of nowhere. We drive up and down the land to get there, through the forests and winding roads. It takes us about 30 minutes, but my favorite part of the trip is right before we get to church. We hit prairie. Complete with wheat. And cows. It's my Kansas in Alabama.
We sat down about 60 seconds before the music started. First a chord. Then a second. And before I knew it, tears.
Bless the Lord, O my soul
O my soul
Worship His holy name
Sing like never before
O my soul
I'll worship Your holy name
It was like God and I's little secret. If we had "a song", I would call up Delilah and request this one. I don't know why the God of the Universe decided to speak so clearly to little old me today, but I am so glad He did.
Our church is focuing on Missions this month. This morning we had a guest speaker who recently went on a missions trip to Swaziland Africa. I've always been drawn to Missions, but could never quite figure out the HOW part. I've got a passion for the world; to see the world. It bothers me to the core that there are shadows and corners on this planet that I'll never see. Sure, I'm willing and able to help out HERE, but my heart desperately wants to be THERE.
I guess this morning God needed to get my attention and in a big way. I'm pretty sure every single string in my heart was tugged on. It surprised me how with every direction the two messages we heard went in, God was in my head ... "LISTEN." "THIS IS FOR YOU." "PAY ATTENTION."
The woman who spoke this morning had pictures. I love seeing as much as I love hearing. Her group went with many purposes but she helped serve the orphans.
Oh, the "o" word. We've seen them, read about them, learned about them. But this morning, I grieved for them.
I have been given a slim chance of ever being able to conceive. Born only ever wanting to be a Mother, and it's unlikely I will ever be. Because of my infertility, I've met incredible women. I have a circle of sisters who have known and have seen the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. Though many of them have since become Mothers either through pregnancy or adoption, we all have an unbreakable bond.
So this morning, when the pictures of the children started to play, I thought of my sisters. I thought of myself. I wanted to run to Swaziland Africa and gather them all up and bring them home to us. There are over 250,000 orphans in Swaziland. Their parents, mostly teenagers, die of AIDS. Babies being carried on their 7 year old sibling's back. They come out of the field, she said. They come running for love.
They know absolutely nothing of make-up or soccer balls or Dr. Peppers or reality TV or family vacations ... They have no one to tell them of Jesus ... but they come running for love. They are sure it exists somewhere.
Our pastor fell to his knees at the altar this morning and cried. He prayed and cried. He was so ashamed. We all felt ashamed. Selfish. Greedy. Swaziland Africa is a long ways away, but I guarantee you there is a Swaziland in Alabama. A Swaziland in Kansas. Wherever you are, there's a Swaziland.
There are people who don't know love.
There are people who don't know Jesus.
There are children who are orphaned.
I have friends who aren't believers and refuse to know Jesus - they have the choice. There are people in this world who don't know Jesus because no one has ever told them!
This morning, we were asked to find our pulse. Find yours. Got it?
Every time your heart beats, someone dies.
Every time your heart beats, someone will die and enter an enternity without Jesus.
Think about that ....
In the time it's taken me to write this post, thousands have died. How many of those knew Jesus? Statistics tell us not many.
In the time it's taken me to write this post, orphans have come running out of fields, bare foot, sick, hungry and scared ... looking for love.
I am a fool. I refuse to sit idle any longer. I refuse to sit on the sidelines while I have family members pushing Jesus out of their home and keeping Jesus from their children. I refuse to sit by and let my friends go to hell.
I refuse to not be used.
I got home from church, I started laundry and I praised God for running water, soap and a washing machine.
I started praying that God would use me.
I started praying that adoption would be made financially simpler to those who can - both domestically and internationally. There are millions of orphans in this world. They should not be left without love because of $50,000.
I started praying for the baby in Swaziland Africa who's mother begged the woman who spoke this morning to take her baby with her because she was dying. The little girl who sat in the dirt in a peach colored outfit with a big smile and a hopeful heart.
She's hiding in the field right now.
But I refuse to.
Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me
Let me be singing when the evening comes.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
Pass The Pop
Once again, I'm slacking. My goal was to write here every other day. I've got LOTS to say, don't you worry. The days just tend to slip away and soon it's 10:00 at night, I'm in bed and thinking "I should blog."
Well, what counts is, I'm here now! I've had a lot going on between then and now. We've had Valentine's Day, our first together. I've taught kids how to scour a bathroom, OCD Chelsey style. (Kind of like Gagnam style, but better.) We've planned an entire spring break vacation and my planner is quickly filling up with things like "band pictures", "Tigerette Auditions", "Prom", "Royals/Braves Game", Graduation", "Kansas", etc ...
Life is full, in a way I never expected. But of all the February 18th's I have lived, especially in my adult life, this is by far my favorite. I mean ... I got a new piece of Polish Potter for Valentine's Day and he paid attention all those months ago when I said "I want to buy pieces that are lines in BLUE, not white." These days, 2 lbs of hamburger (which used to last me a week) barely makes a meal. One kid hates chocolate, the other can't do spicy, the mister eats like a bird and I'm dropping weight like it's nobody's business. I'm going to start running soon ... like, for fun. Who would have thought?
So, the moral of the story? If I'm not here, it's because I'm truly living life for the first time ever! But, I want to be here more. So. Whatcha think? What would you like to read? Any specific topics or ideas? Lay 'em on me. I'm ready!
In the mean time, my crock pot is calling my name. I'm gonna throw some chicken in there, top it with some brown sugar and BBQ sauce and then, because I'm oh-so-Julia-Childs-ish....I'm gonna put a can of Dr. Pepper in there. Why you ask? Because I like the way pop sounds when it hits frozen meat in the crock pot.
I said pop.
It's my only bit of Yankee-isms .... Yankeeneese .... Yankeean .....I hold on too.
Well, what counts is, I'm here now! I've had a lot going on between then and now. We've had Valentine's Day, our first together. I've taught kids how to scour a bathroom, OCD Chelsey style. (Kind of like Gagnam style, but better.) We've planned an entire spring break vacation and my planner is quickly filling up with things like "band pictures", "Tigerette Auditions", "Prom", "Royals/Braves Game", Graduation", "Kansas", etc ...
Life is full, in a way I never expected. But of all the February 18th's I have lived, especially in my adult life, this is by far my favorite. I mean ... I got a new piece of Polish Potter for Valentine's Day and he paid attention all those months ago when I said "I want to buy pieces that are lines in BLUE, not white." These days, 2 lbs of hamburger (which used to last me a week) barely makes a meal. One kid hates chocolate, the other can't do spicy, the mister eats like a bird and I'm dropping weight like it's nobody's business. I'm going to start running soon ... like, for fun. Who would have thought?
So, the moral of the story? If I'm not here, it's because I'm truly living life for the first time ever! But, I want to be here more. So. Whatcha think? What would you like to read? Any specific topics or ideas? Lay 'em on me. I'm ready!
In the mean time, my crock pot is calling my name. I'm gonna throw some chicken in there, top it with some brown sugar and BBQ sauce and then, because I'm oh-so-Julia-Childs-ish....I'm gonna put a can of Dr. Pepper in there. Why you ask? Because I like the way pop sounds when it hits frozen meat in the crock pot.
I said pop.
It's my only bit of Yankee-isms .... Yankeeneese .... Yankeean .....I hold on too.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Things I've Learned Thus Far
I've been living in the Deep South now for 3 months. Time flies when you're having fun! I'm sure there will be many posts just like this one in the future, but here we go:
Becoming The Belle: Lessons Learned In My First Three Months
1) Everything happens earlier here. You wake up early (not a fan), lunch is at 11:00, supper at 5:00. It took me a while to adjust to this new schedule (I was used to eating supper between 7:00 & 8:00 pm) but now? I love it! The kitchen is cleaned up and lights off by 6:00 pm which leaves all evening to relax. It's glorious.
2) The above lesson was helpful as soon as I had my first "eating out" experience. I totally did not expect a 30-45 minute wait at 4:15 pm.
3) Anyone, and I do mean ANYONE, is your best friend. I had a 15 minute conversation with a lady at Target about the weather when I first moved here. We actually shopped together. She hollered at me from across the parking lot "Can you believe this sunshiney day?!" Of course I said "Huh?!" because ...
4) I firmly believe every Born & Bred Southerner should come with a translator. "Huh" has become a part of my everyday vocabulary. I have a nice mix of Mississippi and Alabama in my life and wow. I should have gone to college for that instead of Spanish.
5) "Done did" = Already have.
6) "I'll take iced tea" = Give me a cup of sugar with half a cup of tea that you boiled on the stove instead of setting outside in the sun.
7) "Yes ma'am" = Even though I'm 30 years older than you, you'll still be called ma'am.
8) Mayo goes on everything. Ew.
9) Collared Greens, Butter Beans, Black Eyed Peas. Ew again.
10) There are legit mountains here. I know. Surprised me too.
11) "Bless her heart" is not wishing someone well.
12) "Bless it" ... is.
13) In Alabama, we have War Eagle and Roll Tide. In this house, we are religiously War Eagle. Unless they aren't playing. Then we can be Roll Tide. The SEC is awfully friendly to one another.
14) Unless you're Mizzou. Then you just suck all around. :-)
15) Rock Chalk Jayhawk!! (Had to throw that in there.)
16) If you are going to yard sales, church or Winn Dixie Grocery Store, you better be dressed to impress, teased hair, serious lipstick, a monogrammed purse and 6 kids in matching outfits in tow.
17) Every other radio station is gospel. Or country. There is no rap. This is God's country after all! ;-)
18) If you spend an entire lifetime not even giving thought to the existence of Bigfoot, it will all go out the door after living in the forest. It is my goal to invite them over for tea*.
* See #6.
19) No matter where you live, you're in the perfect location. I'm within driving distance of the Smokies, the Gulf, New Orleans, Nashville and the Atlantic.
20) Life is a lot more relaxed here. It's easy to enjoy the little things because big things aren't cluttering up your life. And if they are, you can have a yard sale. Year-round in the South!
So there you have it. Just a snippet of lessons learned as a Belle so far! Every day I wake up to a scene from Steel Magnolias and every day I love it. The South is home, y'all! Come visit! :-)
Becoming The Belle: Lessons Learned In My First Three Months
1) Everything happens earlier here. You wake up early (not a fan), lunch is at 11:00, supper at 5:00. It took me a while to adjust to this new schedule (I was used to eating supper between 7:00 & 8:00 pm) but now? I love it! The kitchen is cleaned up and lights off by 6:00 pm which leaves all evening to relax. It's glorious.
2) The above lesson was helpful as soon as I had my first "eating out" experience. I totally did not expect a 30-45 minute wait at 4:15 pm.
3) Anyone, and I do mean ANYONE, is your best friend. I had a 15 minute conversation with a lady at Target about the weather when I first moved here. We actually shopped together. She hollered at me from across the parking lot "Can you believe this sunshiney day?!" Of course I said "Huh?!" because ...
4) I firmly believe every Born & Bred Southerner should come with a translator. "Huh" has become a part of my everyday vocabulary. I have a nice mix of Mississippi and Alabama in my life and wow. I should have gone to college for that instead of Spanish.
5) "Done did" = Already have.
6) "I'll take iced tea" = Give me a cup of sugar with half a cup of tea that you boiled on the stove instead of setting outside in the sun.
7) "Yes ma'am" = Even though I'm 30 years older than you, you'll still be called ma'am.
8) Mayo goes on everything. Ew.
9) Collared Greens, Butter Beans, Black Eyed Peas. Ew again.
10) There are legit mountains here. I know. Surprised me too.
11) "Bless her heart" is not wishing someone well.
12) "Bless it" ... is.
13) In Alabama, we have War Eagle and Roll Tide. In this house, we are religiously War Eagle. Unless they aren't playing. Then we can be Roll Tide. The SEC is awfully friendly to one another.
14) Unless you're Mizzou. Then you just suck all around. :-)
15) Rock Chalk Jayhawk!! (Had to throw that in there.)
16) If you are going to yard sales, church or Winn Dixie Grocery Store, you better be dressed to impress, teased hair, serious lipstick, a monogrammed purse and 6 kids in matching outfits in tow.
17) Every other radio station is gospel. Or country. There is no rap. This is God's country after all! ;-)
18) If you spend an entire lifetime not even giving thought to the existence of Bigfoot, it will all go out the door after living in the forest. It is my goal to invite them over for tea*.
* See #6.
19) No matter where you live, you're in the perfect location. I'm within driving distance of the Smokies, the Gulf, New Orleans, Nashville and the Atlantic.
20) Life is a lot more relaxed here. It's easy to enjoy the little things because big things aren't cluttering up your life. And if they are, you can have a yard sale. Year-round in the South!
So there you have it. Just a snippet of lessons learned as a Belle so far! Every day I wake up to a scene from Steel Magnolias and every day I love it. The South is home, y'all! Come visit! :-)
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
We Aren't In Kansas Anymore, Toto
Today is Kansas' birthday! Bet you didn't know that. Unless of course you're from Kansas, in which case ... you cheated. Kansas Day was always one of those super fun days at school growing up. It usually included feeling up some buffalo fur, eating some sunflower seeds, learning all about the covered wagons & of course, "Per aspera ad Astra", Kansas' state motto, which translates to "To the stars through difficulties."
(The state flower is the sunflower, the state song is "Home On The Range", the state bird is the meadowlark, the state tree is the cottonwood and the state reptile is the ornate box turtle. You're welcome.)
(PS - I did ALL that without Google!)
ANYWAY.
I was born and raised in Kansas. I spent the first 4 years of my life in Wichita. All I remember about Wichita is a few wicked tornadoes and the awesome swing set my Dad built in the back yard with a bright yellow "slipper-slide". We moved to Topeka (the capital - BAM) before I started kindergarten and there I would spend my adolescence. The same elementary school. The same middle school. The same high school, despite moving almost every single year from ages 5-18. My Mom stayed home with us, my Dad worked for KP&L until he and my Mom started his construction business. I remember them sitting at the kitchen table picking colors for the "For Sale" signs.
I guess you could say I'm Kansas through and through. My favorite movie EVER is The Wizard of Oz. I'm a die-hard Kansas Jayhawks fan and though they are usually an embarrassment, I cheer on the KC Royals and KC Chiefs. (Even though they are technically on the MO side.) I have a crazy fascination with severe weather & if the sirens are sounding you can usually find me outside or in my car. Sunsets in Kansas compare to no other, and in the spring when they start to burn the prairie ... THAT is my favorite. The flames at night, coming to the edge of I-70. It's magic.
I'm pretty fond of my home state. I'm a country girl at heart. I love the prairie, the livestock, the fairs. All of it.
So, imagine everyone's shock when I left it all behind for a new kind of favorite. In November I left the Kansas prairie for the beautiful forests and mountains of east-central Alabama. There is no comparison. Both Kansas and Alabama are beautiful. BEYOND beautiful. No matter how long I live here, I will forever be the girl who drives 5 mph on the back highway, gawking at the mountains, the woods, the "Beware Avalanche" signs.
Leaving Kansas wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. At first I felt guilty. But then I realized, it wasn't hard because I carry Kansas with me. My family, my friends, my favorite things. I'll see some livestock grazing the valley here and I think of Kansas. I see some random wheat and I'm right back in Oz.
I guess it's true. You can take the girl out of Kansas, but you can't take the Kansas out of the girl!
So, happy birthday Kansas! Thanks for raising me to appreciate the small things, the vast prairies, the simple silence and everything in between!
(The state flower is the sunflower, the state song is "Home On The Range", the state bird is the meadowlark, the state tree is the cottonwood and the state reptile is the ornate box turtle. You're welcome.)
(PS - I did ALL that without Google!)
ANYWAY.
I was born and raised in Kansas. I spent the first 4 years of my life in Wichita. All I remember about Wichita is a few wicked tornadoes and the awesome swing set my Dad built in the back yard with a bright yellow "slipper-slide". We moved to Topeka (the capital - BAM) before I started kindergarten and there I would spend my adolescence. The same elementary school. The same middle school. The same high school, despite moving almost every single year from ages 5-18. My Mom stayed home with us, my Dad worked for KP&L until he and my Mom started his construction business. I remember them sitting at the kitchen table picking colors for the "For Sale" signs.
I guess you could say I'm Kansas through and through. My favorite movie EVER is The Wizard of Oz. I'm a die-hard Kansas Jayhawks fan and though they are usually an embarrassment, I cheer on the KC Royals and KC Chiefs. (Even though they are technically on the MO side.) I have a crazy fascination with severe weather & if the sirens are sounding you can usually find me outside or in my car. Sunsets in Kansas compare to no other, and in the spring when they start to burn the prairie ... THAT is my favorite. The flames at night, coming to the edge of I-70. It's magic.
I'm pretty fond of my home state. I'm a country girl at heart. I love the prairie, the livestock, the fairs. All of it.
So, imagine everyone's shock when I left it all behind for a new kind of favorite. In November I left the Kansas prairie for the beautiful forests and mountains of east-central Alabama. There is no comparison. Both Kansas and Alabama are beautiful. BEYOND beautiful. No matter how long I live here, I will forever be the girl who drives 5 mph on the back highway, gawking at the mountains, the woods, the "Beware Avalanche" signs.
Leaving Kansas wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. At first I felt guilty. But then I realized, it wasn't hard because I carry Kansas with me. My family, my friends, my favorite things. I'll see some livestock grazing the valley here and I think of Kansas. I see some random wheat and I'm right back in Oz.
I guess it's true. You can take the girl out of Kansas, but you can't take the Kansas out of the girl!
So, happy birthday Kansas! Thanks for raising me to appreciate the small things, the vast prairies, the simple silence and everything in between!
Monday, January 28, 2013
That One Girl Who ...
Once again, I've been meaning to come to this place. I have about 200 ideas to write about in my head, but I'm not quite sure which direction I want this blog to go in. How much to share? How personal to make it? I want it to serve a purpose; what purpose should it serve?
Well anyway, something's been on my heart for a while now, but it's been especially heavy lately. So I figured, what the heck: I'll write it.
I'm that one girl who got a divorce.
I'm also that one girl who accepted Christ as her personal Lord & Savior at the age of 5. I'm that one girl who grew up in church, singing with worship bands and leading her friends to Christ. I'm that one girl who loved acting, and I'm that one girl on 3rd base who loved the sport she spent nearly 15 years wrapped up in.
I'm that one girl who went to Europe when she was 16 and kissed a total stranger names Michele beneath the Eiffel Tower. I'm that one girl who became an advocate for domestic violence. I'm that one girl who never smoke a cigarette or tried a single drug. I'm that one girl who went to college to become a teacher, with a double major in Spanish. I'm that one girl who has full conversations with herself in espanol just to prove to herself she can still do it.
I'm that one girl who got married when she was 18 years old. I'm that one girl who drug her husbands butt to church every Sunday morning, but sometimes went alone. I'm that one girl who went to Bible Studies, led a women's small group and volunteered for VBS.
I'm that one girl who's husband got cancer.
I'm that one girl who still praised God every single day of a suddenly very painful life.
I'm that one girl who have God the glory when a very sick man was healed. And when all he had left was bitterness, I was that one girl who continued to pray through the brokenness.
I'm that one girl who left, for some "room to think."
I'm that one girl who's husband filed for divorce on Valentine's Day.
That was not the defining moment of my life. No, the moment I had in my bedroom 20 minutes ago when I, with small yet powerful words, asked Jesus to live in my heart - THAT defined my life. That set the stage. That built me into "that one girl" and how I would take on every single second of my life.
I've lost dozens of friends, Christian women in my life, because I'm "that girl". The one with the big red "D" on my forehead. I must be so dirty and unloveable, right? What has happened to us, women of Christ? When did compassion and love and understanding go out the door to only be replaced with a finger pointed at someone other than ourselves?
A woman is divorced? Surely she can't be close to Jesus! All those convictions of her life and intimate moments where she HEARD God speak must have just gone right out the door. Right?
God hated my divorce. It hurt Him, and if you have a conscience, knowing that something you did hurt the Father is a tough reality. It will break you to the core. Especially when you realize how many times a day our sin, big or small, breaks His heart. But I speak from experience: I believe God uses us, dirty 'ol sin and all. I believe The Word speaks truth; that when we ask for forgiveness, He will cast our sin as far as the east is from the west. (That's a really long ways!) I'm not saying there won't be consequences, because hunny there were! But when you're broken and at the bottom and approach God with a "use me" heart, He WILL.
Now, I'm that one girl with a heart of compassion for "those women"; Divorce, Abortion, etc ... I'm that girl who never assumes I know where a woman's heart is. I'm that girl who worries about her own relationship with Christ instead of others.
Suddenly, all the things I mentioned above that I "was", don't matter. All that matters is that night 20 years ago.
I'm that girl who became a Christian at 5 years of age. And she's not looking back.
Be kind to one another. And show the compassion you hope would be shown I you.
Till next time ....
Well anyway, something's been on my heart for a while now, but it's been especially heavy lately. So I figured, what the heck: I'll write it.
I'm that one girl who got a divorce.
I'm also that one girl who accepted Christ as her personal Lord & Savior at the age of 5. I'm that one girl who grew up in church, singing with worship bands and leading her friends to Christ. I'm that one girl who loved acting, and I'm that one girl on 3rd base who loved the sport she spent nearly 15 years wrapped up in.
I'm that one girl who went to Europe when she was 16 and kissed a total stranger names Michele beneath the Eiffel Tower. I'm that one girl who became an advocate for domestic violence. I'm that one girl who never smoke a cigarette or tried a single drug. I'm that one girl who went to college to become a teacher, with a double major in Spanish. I'm that one girl who has full conversations with herself in espanol just to prove to herself she can still do it.
I'm that one girl who got married when she was 18 years old. I'm that one girl who drug her husbands butt to church every Sunday morning, but sometimes went alone. I'm that one girl who went to Bible Studies, led a women's small group and volunteered for VBS.
I'm that one girl who's husband got cancer.
I'm that one girl who still praised God every single day of a suddenly very painful life.
I'm that one girl who have God the glory when a very sick man was healed. And when all he had left was bitterness, I was that one girl who continued to pray through the brokenness.
I'm that one girl who left, for some "room to think."
I'm that one girl who's husband filed for divorce on Valentine's Day.
That was not the defining moment of my life. No, the moment I had in my bedroom 20 minutes ago when I, with small yet powerful words, asked Jesus to live in my heart - THAT defined my life. That set the stage. That built me into "that one girl" and how I would take on every single second of my life.
I've lost dozens of friends, Christian women in my life, because I'm "that girl". The one with the big red "D" on my forehead. I must be so dirty and unloveable, right? What has happened to us, women of Christ? When did compassion and love and understanding go out the door to only be replaced with a finger pointed at someone other than ourselves?
A woman is divorced? Surely she can't be close to Jesus! All those convictions of her life and intimate moments where she HEARD God speak must have just gone right out the door. Right?
God hated my divorce. It hurt Him, and if you have a conscience, knowing that something you did hurt the Father is a tough reality. It will break you to the core. Especially when you realize how many times a day our sin, big or small, breaks His heart. But I speak from experience: I believe God uses us, dirty 'ol sin and all. I believe The Word speaks truth; that when we ask for forgiveness, He will cast our sin as far as the east is from the west. (That's a really long ways!) I'm not saying there won't be consequences, because hunny there were! But when you're broken and at the bottom and approach God with a "use me" heart, He WILL.
Now, I'm that one girl with a heart of compassion for "those women"; Divorce, Abortion, etc ... I'm that girl who never assumes I know where a woman's heart is. I'm that girl who worries about her own relationship with Christ instead of others.
Suddenly, all the things I mentioned above that I "was", don't matter. All that matters is that night 20 years ago.
I'm that girl who became a Christian at 5 years of age. And she's not looking back.
Be kind to one another. And show the compassion you hope would be shown I you.
Till next time ....
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Life.
I had plans to write a lot sooner than today. In fact, the goal is to write daily. After all, if this blog is going to grow into anything, I've got to post something. Si?
But, life got busy. Actually, life happened. Literally! On Friday, January 11 2013, I became an Aunt for the second time! Cayden Mathew joined the party and I gotta say ... He is perfect!
I first became an Aunt on May 4, 2012 when JaColby Alexander was born. Though now he is a wiggle-worm, curly-haired, smart and beautiful toddler he continues to change my life daily. I suppose I had a passing thought that second time Mothers have - "How will I ever love another baby like I love my Colby?!" but Cayden came with a great healing power, and with it he changed my life too!
Some women (more than you think) have mounds to cross when it comes to "the f-word" - fertility. Others have mountains. I face Mount Kilimanjaro when it comes down to me getting pregnant. (More of that on another day.) Because of this, I felt pretty sorry for myself; the chances I me ever seeing life enter the world, a childbirth, were slim pickins'. Colby came in unexpectantly. 14 hours of a non-progressing labor led to an emergency C-Section. When we knew Cayden was coming, I had already taken my spot in the shadows. My youngest sister is a very private, very modest person. So imagine my surprise when I was told to "sit on the bench and don't speak!" Ha!
So I sat. I didn't speak. And I watched life.
I was NOT prepared for everything that happened, nor how quickly it would all take place. Right before my eyes, my baby sister became a woman. She had a "pushing face" ... serious, determined, focused. Her cries at the end were enough to break my heart every time I revisit the moment. And finally, through a final scream came a breath. There he was. A gasp for air, a newborn cry and a just-as-excited doctor holding up life proudly so I could snap a picture.
Oh. My. Lawd.
They wrapped up life, put him immediately to his Mothers chest and he knew. He knew that was his Mommy.
It was hands down, one of the most memorable moments of my life. It changed me, in a big way. It healed me. It rocked me. Best. Gift. Ever.
Thank you, sister.
I'm back from Oz now in the Deep South. There are stories to be told here, in my new home. I'll be back regularly, now that life has begun.
But, life got busy. Actually, life happened. Literally! On Friday, January 11 2013, I became an Aunt for the second time! Cayden Mathew joined the party and I gotta say ... He is perfect!
I first became an Aunt on May 4, 2012 when JaColby Alexander was born. Though now he is a wiggle-worm, curly-haired, smart and beautiful toddler he continues to change my life daily. I suppose I had a passing thought that second time Mothers have - "How will I ever love another baby like I love my Colby?!" but Cayden came with a great healing power, and with it he changed my life too!
Some women (more than you think) have mounds to cross when it comes to "the f-word" - fertility. Others have mountains. I face Mount Kilimanjaro when it comes down to me getting pregnant. (More of that on another day.) Because of this, I felt pretty sorry for myself; the chances I me ever seeing life enter the world, a childbirth, were slim pickins'. Colby came in unexpectantly. 14 hours of a non-progressing labor led to an emergency C-Section. When we knew Cayden was coming, I had already taken my spot in the shadows. My youngest sister is a very private, very modest person. So imagine my surprise when I was told to "sit on the bench and don't speak!" Ha!
So I sat. I didn't speak. And I watched life.
I was NOT prepared for everything that happened, nor how quickly it would all take place. Right before my eyes, my baby sister became a woman. She had a "pushing face" ... serious, determined, focused. Her cries at the end were enough to break my heart every time I revisit the moment. And finally, through a final scream came a breath. There he was. A gasp for air, a newborn cry and a just-as-excited doctor holding up life proudly so I could snap a picture.
Oh. My. Lawd.
They wrapped up life, put him immediately to his Mothers chest and he knew. He knew that was his Mommy.
It was hands down, one of the most memorable moments of my life. It changed me, in a big way. It healed me. It rocked me. Best. Gift. Ever.
Thank you, sister.
I'm back from Oz now in the Deep South. There are stories to be told here, in my new home. I'll be back regularly, now that life has begun.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
New
I love brand new things. Often times new is associated with extravagant, but it doesn't take much to make this girl happy. A new bottle of lotion from Bath & Body Works. A new book with it's fresh, crisp pages to be turned. The overwhelming scent of a brand new candle, and perhaps my favorite "new": A brand new notebook. Do you remember being dragged to the store by your parents as a child and hearing "If you behave, you can pick out one thing."? I was the kid who picked out a new notebook. Sometimes, Mom would throw in a new package of pencils or pens too. My "pencil zipper pack" in the front of my school binder laying perfectly on a 250 count package of lined notebook paper may as well have been gold.
I used to dream about writing. I wanted to write a book. I'd practice my signature over and over, to perfect my autograph for the hundreds of book signings I would have. I wasn't sure what I'd write about, but surely whatever it would be someone would read it. Right?
Somewhere along the way, the word "blog" was introduced to society. When I was in high school, I was bullied for having a blog. I didn't like being made fun of, but knowing that I had my own little corner in the ever-expanding world wide web was comforting. Somebody was reading. Somewhere.
Flash-forward 15 years and we have "professional bloggers". Eat your heart out, bullies! Though I've had my own private blog for almost 10 years, I've always dreamt about the Major Leagues. The Blogs I read belong to incredible women: Women who have faced trials and overcome, adversity and persevered. They've done great things with their "Blogosphere Fame" - they've truly changed the world, one "hit" at a time!
And yet, here I am. I'm no one incredible. I've got no special story to tell. Still, I've been encouraged for a while now to begin blogging publicly. I've got to admit, though I have no idea where this blog will go or what it will become, the blankness of it excites me. It's new! It can become whatever it wants to become. Maybe I will become a peer to the "Blogging Goddesses" of our generation; maybe I'll slip quietly into my own corner and simply write.
Whatever happens, I haven't been this excited since I had my own Lisa Frank Folder full of college-ruled paper and a pack of matching mechanical pencils!
I used to dream about writing. I wanted to write a book. I'd practice my signature over and over, to perfect my autograph for the hundreds of book signings I would have. I wasn't sure what I'd write about, but surely whatever it would be someone would read it. Right?
Somewhere along the way, the word "blog" was introduced to society. When I was in high school, I was bullied for having a blog. I didn't like being made fun of, but knowing that I had my own little corner in the ever-expanding world wide web was comforting. Somebody was reading. Somewhere.
Flash-forward 15 years and we have "professional bloggers". Eat your heart out, bullies! Though I've had my own private blog for almost 10 years, I've always dreamt about the Major Leagues. The Blogs I read belong to incredible women: Women who have faced trials and overcome, adversity and persevered. They've done great things with their "Blogosphere Fame" - they've truly changed the world, one "hit" at a time!
And yet, here I am. I'm no one incredible. I've got no special story to tell. Still, I've been encouraged for a while now to begin blogging publicly. I've got to admit, though I have no idea where this blog will go or what it will become, the blankness of it excites me. It's new! It can become whatever it wants to become. Maybe I will become a peer to the "Blogging Goddesses" of our generation; maybe I'll slip quietly into my own corner and simply write.
Whatever happens, I haven't been this excited since I had my own Lisa Frank Folder full of college-ruled paper and a pack of matching mechanical pencils!
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