Joy

Mommy: "Guess who I love?"
Levi: "ME!"
Mommy: "That's RIGHT! How'd you know that?"
Levi: (With 5 year old boy exasperation) "BECAUSE, you telled it to me a million days!!"




Mommy: (laying on the bed with Mackenzie early in the morning to wake her up) "Hey, Love. Time to wake up."
Mackenzie: "Hey."

We lie there.

Mackenzie: "Mom?"
Mommy: "Yeah?"
Mackenzie: "Just so you know, you have two white hairs right there and right there on your head. Not gray hair, just white."
Mommy: "Thanks, Kenz. Guess that means we get to pick out a new hair color, right?"
Mackenzie giggles like crazy.


Thank God for my kids.

Hope Indeed

Ever feel like your emotions got hooked up to a bungee cord? I do, right now. I'm all over the place!

I had a most fabulous weekend speaking at the state Acteens conference. Brought back some good memories of being an acteen when I was younger, and I met some wonderful girls. I was a little nervous about speaking to teens because I usually deal with grown up ladies. But I forgot how much fun teens can be, how smart they are, and how they have a way of appreciating the real and raw of life. I had a few tears thinking that I was their age when Jesus swept me off my feet, and where would I be right now if He had not? Wow. I'm surviving right now, literally staking my life on something that started at 12 years old when I gave Jesus my life and at 15 when I said yes to His call. And right now I need Him so much. I know I would be suffocating if He weren't here to breathe for me. And it all started back then, when i had no idea what I was getting into. Plus, I met a totally awesome band! Check em out!


Other end of the bungee, my heart is bleeding profusely. The whole "ash heap" thing is intense enough, and some other stuff has come to light that intensifies my pain even more. And I must admit, sparks my anger even hotter. I did let it spew, directed thankfully at the appropriate person. It was a strange thing, letting myself express anger that intensely. It wasn't pretty for one thing. It was a while before I could breathe again once it was over. I suppose that was a combination of the bronchial plague I've been fighting for a few weeks and the intensity of my emotion. I can't say it felt good. It was hellish, actually. But I can say that I feel a shift in my grief. Not sure its a shift away from anger, but maybe it is. The heat is gone, but it's replaced with a sorrow and sadness that catches my breath. It is almost as if I can see more clearly, as if I can finally take in the whole of what has happened to me. I feel like a severely maimed accident victim who has just regained consciousness and looked in the mirror at her injuries. I can see it all now. And I want to scream. Not from anger anymore but because it just hurts so much.

I just can't leave you with those words. So I'll go on to tell you something that is holding me up right now. My sweet friend Alli sent me a book that I love. One of the short chapters was about suffering. It made the point that we can't understand suffering. It always has been and always will be a mystery. But the author rightly pointed out that where there is suffering, there is love. If you look at a nurse who cares for sick children, a counselor who binds emotional wounds, a missionary who sees untold atrocities, or a soldier who holds a refugee child, you see suffering countered by love. I have no idea why I suffer as I do. But I know, thank God, that where my suffering is, there is Love. There is God. And He is love. And He is the One who holds me when I cry, listens to my insides scream, and even heard the seething anger explode from me. He is the Love that is present even right now as I suffer. That is hope indeed.

Survivin'

Right now I feel like one of those guys on one of those survival shows on TV. Just me and my ingenuity against the elements. I'm having to get creative in order to make it from one day to the next. Forget luxuries like caught-up laundry, cleaned-off countertops, or home-packed lunches. We are down to the bare basics. Enough clean clothes for today and tomorrow, enough lunch money for school lunches, and enough... just enough... energy to make it through until bedtime.

So even though Martha Stewart LIVE isn't coming to do a documentary on my homemaking skills, and Parenting Magazine isn't tracking me for Mom of the Year, I'm surviving. I kissed my babies goodnight, soaking in their sweet smiles, and I'm off to bed myself. Gotta rest up for another day in the jungle that is single parenthood!!

Having it all together seems like a faraway dream right now. I am SO not together. But I'm alive. And my children are alive and well. And I'm grateful for that. We are going to make it. We ARE making it. Thank God, we are survivin'!

The Ash Heap

So I went to counseling today. I've been trying hard to process my grief, but it's kind of difficult when I must put my feelings away for about 23 and 1/2 of every 24 hours so that I can hold down a job and be a mommy. I've had some really angry stuff that I've been needing to write out and process, but I haven't had the time or frankly the courage to do so.

But today my counselor taught me something profound. Processing the anger and pain are just part of grieving. My homework is to spend some time just taking stock of what I'm feeling. Just to feel it. Not solve it. Just feel it.

Just "sit in the ash heap" so to speak and survey the damage. And though I'm scared out of my wits to try to look at the gory scene that is on the inside of me, I'm also feeling a strange peace at the idea of having permission to simply feel what I'm feeling. I don't have to be brave, or try to explain it, rationalize it, or justify it. I can simply let myself feel it.

And though I know the ash heap is a place I'll go all by myself, I had to wonder if anyone else struggles as I do with allowing yourself to just feel what you feel and let it be what it is. I have such a tendency to try to force it to be ok. But its not ok, not at all. And right now, it's nice to know I don't have to pretend it is.

Happy Mardi Gras!

And here you have my sweet babies and some of their parade loot! We've also collected a total of 4 babies from various king cakes. A Mardi Gras ball has been attended (see below) and drunken foolishness has been observed along parade routes. We've taken in a total of 3 parades, but tomorrow, Fat Tuesday, will be spent peacefully at home.





And here I am celebrating with one of the residents at the assisted living home where I work. Mr. John and I were partying at the Mardi Gras ball. We are having just as much fun as we appear to be having! Guess it takes oh, 70 or 80 Mardi Gras celebrations to get it all down pat, since our residents sure know how to do it right!

It's interesting to think that for most of my life, January and February meant nothing much. I mean, most of Florida where I grew up is business as usual right now, and here I am in the middle of a major holiday. It's what I love about this city. You can always find a party going on.

So if you don't happen to be in the middle of it, I'll let a good time or two roll for you. Party on.

I guess we'll see...

Tonight I went out. Alone.

I saw a movie all by myself. It was strangely enjoyable. Wistfully pleasant.

It's not easy to parent solo, and I really didn't like who I was today. I don't want my pain to be dumped on my babies. Some days I feel like a total failure as a mother. So while they were with friends, I decided to have some sanity time. So I went to a movie, I even splurged on movie food and a grown-up treat.

It was a little weird. I've never done that before. Isn't that strange? Never in my life have I gone to a movie alone just because I wanted to go. Felt kind of overindulgent, maybe a little awkward.

There isn't really a how-to for picking up the pieces of yourself, but as I'm doing just that, I'm seeing pieces I didn't know were there. On the one hand, it's kind of fun to get to explore the jigsaw puzzle that is me. And on the other hand, I feel shattered into so many pieces... it's definitely not something that can be done in one sitting. I have to work at it when I have the strength, and then stop for a while. I'll come back to it later.

It's interesting to be alone for the first time at 31. I've never been alone. I shared a room with my sister and then went directly into marriage at 18. I've lived my entire life in close proximity to other people. I'm the type of person who likes people around. It's funny, though, what grief will do to you. When you grieve, isolation threatens to suck you into its black hole. It feels good to be alone. I don't have to face anyone or answer to anyone or let anyone see how not-ok I am. And some moments... like tonight... I could imagine spending long periods of time alone, never facing another individual, and be totally ok with that.

I've never HAD time alone, so I guess now that I am alone, I'm not quite sure what to do with that. At times like tonight I have an overwhelming desire to close the door to my room and never come out. And at times, the knowledge that I am alone brings such pain I can hardly stand the thought of it. I'm just not sure how much isolation is enough. How much is right for me? I suppose that's one thing I'll have to explore, until I find just the right combination of companionship and solitude. A combination that gives me enough alone time to remember who I am, and enough connection to live out who I am.

For a person who has never indulged before, I guess we'll see how I handle my solitude. :)

One more...

Oooo, I had one more thing to add to my list of happy things:

KICKING OFF YOUR HIGH HEELS AND PULLING ON JEANS AFTER WORK. Is there anything better than a pair of jeans after you've spent the day dressing the part of sophisticated businesswoman? I think, not.

A good pair of jeans is like the solace of a friend, it knows the secrets you are hiding, and yet still manages to make you feel ok about the size of your butt.


OH I ALMOST FORGOT!! A STROKE OF GENIUS HAPPENED IN LIVECHAT TONIGHT. We were discussing unconditional love. We were talking about why so many of us strive for perfection in attempt to be worthy of love or to earn love. Then the question came up... If perfection doesn't exist, and can't be attained by a human, then isn't the very idea of striving for perfection imperfect in and of itself? Hmmmmm.... Did you feel the ground breaking?

How To Cure What Ails Ya

Sorrow has a way of teaching us things. Right now I'm learning a lot in the school of sorrow. One thing I'm learning is that deep grief can enhance one's enjoyment of life's little blessings. And so, I'm about to publish a list of said blessings that go a surprisingly long way in making a sorrowing person smile... even if for just a moment.


How To Cure What Ails Ya:

Go to a Mardi Gras parade. With a five year old boy.
Paint your nails. With a ten year old girl.
Buy a car... all by yourself.
Make your bed.
Make sweet tea.
Hold an old man's hand.
Call your mom.
Shave your legs.
Drink hot chocolate.
Get reacquainted with your rocking chair.
Wear eyeliner.
Let an old lady pinch your cheeks.
Call your sister.
Wax your eyebrows. (Technically, have them waxed. This isn't something one should attempt to do to herself.)
Wear matching underwear. (Double points if there are rhinestones anywhere on them)
Look at hydrangeas.
Smell coffee brewing.
Eat brownies.
Look at your kids in their beautiful eyes.
Get some Zapps Cajun Dill Gator Taters potato chips, and eat them with respect.
Sleep with your Bible.
Sing loud in your car. The song "Neon Moon" works great. So does Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire." You will have to laugh at yourself.
Light a candle.
Make your brain do something smart.
Let your brain do nothing at all. Just for a while.


And so, friends, there you have just a few ways to cure what ails ya. I'm tellin ya, these work. Oh, it won't take away your problems, but this list will help you keep your joy alive when pain threatens to consume you entirely. This is hard-won knowledge I'm dispensing here... you might want to print this list and keep it in your pocket just in case you ever have the need.

The Real Deal

In case anyone ever thought that the life of an author is in some way different or more glamorous, let me set the record straight.

Today, I did a radio interview to promote my book! Sounds wonderful and glamorous and important, right? Right.

Wonder if the people listening could tell that I'd been up most of last night with two sick kids. Wonder if something in my voice gave away the fact that I had gotten up this morning, left my kids with a sitter (thank God for you, Mary Beth!) and went to work, called the doctor's office as soon as it opened and wouldn't ya know, the appointment opening they had was a mere 45 minutes prior to the LIVE radio interview I had scheduled for today? Could they hear that I'd squeaked by with an extra half hour break, made a run for it to the doc with my kids, rushed through the appointment, and then placed my kids back in my sitter's capable hands just in time for the interview to start? Did it pass over the airwaves that I was talking to the listening audience from the front seat of my Dad's truck, parked in front of a pediatrician's office and behind a McDonald's?

I bet it didn't. I bet no one who heard me pictured me interviewing from the driver's seat of a pickup. Maybe they pictured me in some sleek office or even in a studio of some kind. Maybe they pictured me beautiful and confident and totally together. Certainly, none of them imagined that as soon as the show was over, I hot footed it back to work and got on with my very ordinary day as if nothing had ever happened.

Fooled them, huh? But not you, reader. You know. You know that the life of any of God's girls who get out on the edge and do what He wants them to do is a no-holds-barred kind of crazy. You know that I'm taking each day and trusting God for my very life and hoping desperately He can somehow use me. You know that before that interview I breathed a prayer for help, because I was completely desperate for God's help at that moment.

Now you know the real deal!! I'm just out here on my edge, tryin' to do what's in God's heart for me. Ain't nothin special about me... only about HIM. THAT is, indeed, the realest deal there is.

OH! And today's bliss: Mackenzie lost another tooth, WHILE SHE WAS WITH THE SITTER, thankya Jesus!! Those of you who regularly read this blog know that I'd rather give birth than pull out a tooth. I literally cannot deal with it. And whadya know, but God takes care of ALL the details, even loose teeth!!

Wonder Woman Day

I still love Monday. It's still my favorite day of the week. What did I do today, you ask? I'll tell you.

I read today's reading in the One Year Bible.
I got two kids up and ready and to school on time.
I also got myself up and ready, complete with sophisticated businesswoman costume.
Then I came back home, turned around, went back to school and delivered the lunch and notebook they forgot.
I went to work and did my job. Well.
I wrote thank you notes and made some necessary but difficult phone calls on my lunch break.
I went to counseling and did some working and learning.
On the way home, I returned phone calls.
I went to supper with my friend who took care of my kids during counseling.
I came home and bathed two kids, signed all their permission slips and report cards, and helped with last bits of homework.
I put said kids to bed and did all the running involved in that process such as water, medicine, night lights, blanket adjustment, you get my drift.
I packed tomorrows lunches
I took out the garbage.
I unloaded the dishwasher.
I did a load of laundry, all the way from hamper to drawer.
I returned a BUNCH of emails.
I confirmed a speaking engagement.
I cleaned my bathroom mirror and counter top.
I remembered to use my MaryKay Timewise face wash.
I remembered to get my mail.
I remembered to mail off a rebate.
I located a missing charger for a cell phone.
I made a grocery list.
I looked my daughter in the eye.
I held my son for a while.
I wrote the blog you are reading now.

I did it. I functioned today.

Now hopefully my golden belt and my red cape and my starry underwear-looking things and my white boots will be sent to me. It's standard issue for a Wonder Woman, right? And Mondays make me feel like Wonder Woman. I love Monday.

Ugly...and beautiful

Last night I had a good cry. Not my first in this whole ordeal, but certainly the best one so far. My eyes are still showing the effects.

I was at Celebrate Recovery, a totally awesome place for such processing to be done. My kids are cared for, I'm surrounded by people who don't care about the snot or the sobs, and I can just grieve. Celebrate Recovery is kinda like church, only without pretending. People at regular churches have problems, but they put on their Sunday best, and pretend that they don't struggle or have faults. The people at Celebrate Recovery are over that.

And so I cried. For a few hours, I didn't have to be brave or make myself hold up. I just cried. It was ugly... and beautiful.

My counselor gave me a book called The Healing Path. There is a profound statement in the first chapter I love. "Suffering changes the human heart--sometimes for good and often for ill. We are faced with the challenge of learning how to wrestle with sorrow so it can bring about the greatest good. If we want to become more like God wants us to be, we must consider what it means to live well in a fallen world rather than scramble to escape the veil of sorrow."

I will learn to live well in this fallen world. I'm not going to run from this or choose cynicism, or anger, or false bravado. I won't skip over the hard parts. I will walk the healing path, even if it means a steep climb here and there, or a good hard cry every now and then. Me and God, we are walking this together. He is squeezing my heart with His very own hand to produce the next beat and I am learning to trust Him even more. Living well in a fallen world. It's ugly... and beautiful.

Lest my whole blog be overtaken with a shroud of blackness, today I write about nothing much. No delving into the depths of my heart this day. How about I share with you some things I've enjoyed lately:

I like to work. I've always liked to work. Granted, my heart's dream is to be speaking and writing full-time, but right now I must work at a secular job. The one God has provided for me (Marketing Director for an assisted living facility) is worthwhile, enjoyable, challenging and meaningful. I like the tap of big-girl shoes on the floor, I like being a professional woman. I like engaging my brain and interacting with people. I completely enjoyed the days when all my clothes had breast milk all over them and I had a baby attached to me or near me somewhere at all times. And I also enjoy stepping into the work world, which is where God has me now.

I like chocolate. In most any way, shape or form, except tootsie rolls. Tootsie rolls are a poor excuse for chocolate flavor and a complete waste of time in my opinion. This evening I'm enjoying it in its Chunky Chips Ahoy form.

I like cherry pie. I just do. It's my favorite pie and I like it. Simple, sweet, yet bold and bright. Cherry pie is good.

I like Psalm chapter 71 and Isaiah chapter 40. I'm also fond of Philippians 4, Galatians 6, Ephesians... well ALL of Ephesians, Ecclesiastes 3, Romans 8, BOTH of the Corinthians, Isaiah 6, especially the first 8 verses, Psalm 100, oh and 23. I also chose to have 2 Corinthians 5:17 tatooed on me, though I think all of the above scriptures are tatoo worthy. Were I to get started, I could easily cover my whole self with His words. Oh yeah! Psalm 46 too.

I like my laptop. She works for me.

I like my phone/pda thing. She works for me too.

I like pedicures. Might have to avail myself of one in the very near future.

I like peaceful, restful sleep, which is what I'm hoping to have in the next few moments.

OH! And I also REALLY like people who read this blog! That'd be YOU. (cheesy smile)

Living

Today is a swirl of emotion. The good and the bad have train-wrecked into a big pile of joy and sorrow. Today is my 13th wedding anniversary. Except how do you celebrate an anniversary when a marriage is ending? That wound hurts so much today.

But guess what else today is? Today is one year to the day that I survived pulmonary embolisms!! I wondered last year why God asked me to spend my anniversary in the emergency room, and now I'm so glad He did. He gave me something to celebrate this year on what He knew would be a sad day.

So on an anniversary that is reminding me that life is hard and often full of pain, another anniversary occurs that reminds me that for some reason, last year, God WANTED me to live. He made sure I survived something that kills most people who encounter it. He wanted me to keep on going, keep on living.

And I will. In the hope of the life He bought for me, I will live. In spite of how I hurt today, I will live.

I WILL LIVE.

What I Love About Sunday

Sunday has always held significance in my life. In my family when I was growing up, unless you were seriously ill, church attendance was mandatory. And in my adult life, all I've ever been is a ministry wife, so again with the mandatory church attendance. There are traditions and precious things about Sunday that are pivotal parts of my life.

All that is changing now. Sitting in the pew alone is a new experience. It's hard to feel right, since I don't really know what I am. I mean, I'm not a staff wife anymore, but I don't feel like a regular church member either. Where do I fit now? I'm not exactly sure, but I do know that in the piece of God's family that is Riverside Church, I fit. I fit before, and somehow I still do. This says amazing things about the Christ following that is happening at this church. Most others would have rid themselves of me, and yet my Riverside fam is holding me still.

Today I cried through church. That isn't unusual, since interaction with God often causes my eyes to leak, but today I cried out of pain, sorrow and loneliness. We sang a song about bringing an offering of worship to God. And I brought mine, broken and pitiful as it is, I brought it. I sat there telling God that I am all His. I told Him that whatever He is doing with my life, I will follow. That's all the offering I have now. So I suppose some of my tears were ones of joy too, knowing that my God and my brothers and sisters didn't care that all I brought today was pain.

So I guess more than all the traditions and hugging and kissing (it's a New Orleans thing, the kissing) and smiling and connecting, and all the stuff I love about Sunday, what I love most of all is that moment of deeply intimate connection with God that is somehow made meaningful because it happens alongside the rest of the family, whether they are aware of it or not. It's a mystery. I can't quite give it words, but that something about Sunday is still there. I sure am glad it is.

Bittersweet

I started a new job today. This job is a blessing. The pay is good, the hours are perfect, the environment is friendly, and it's not a hard job. This job is a blessing. It really is. Are you convinced yet? I'm trying to be.

See, this job for me is one more unwelcome change in a few weeks that have been full of unwelcome changes. It represents a new reality that I must live with. Single moms have to work. They have to do more than my fledgling speaking and writing income is able to provide. I guess today, my first day at work, made me feel more officially alone. It was one more step out of shock and into reality.

It's not that God has even asked me to set Woman on the Edge aside. I'll still be keeping my speaking engagements, and writing, and accepting more as they are provided. God has provided a job that allows that. It also allows me to keep my children as close as possible to their normal daily schedule. It was one more gift of love from my Father whose provision has sustained me thus far and will continue to sustain me.

So today was bittersweet. Sweet in the peace that God is taking good care of me and my children, and sorrowfully bitter in that I desperately wish not to be in need of this provision... and today is tangible proof that I am in need of it whether I want to be or not.

I am grateful. For a God who will never reject me. Great is His faithfulness. For a job that I can do while I still keep my heart's passion alive. For two amazing kids. For freezing weather... in New Orleans of all places. And for the hilarious writing that I'm certain will come out of this church girl's first encounter in a long time with the day to day business world. I'm on an unplanned adventure, but an adventure, no less.

(Deep breath.) A blessing indeed.

Soaring

Isaiah 40:28 Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.

29 He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.

30 Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;

31 but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.

As I enter 2008, leaving behind a year that ended in sadness, I'm reminded by this passage of something I think God is really teaching me right now. HE IS IN CONTROL, and furthermore, I AM NOT. All my trying and struggling and working didn't stop grief and loss from entering my life. All my hard work and all the brainpower in my head isn't enough to accomplish everything I feel the need to accomplish.

The end of 2007 and the beginning of 08 find me weary indeed. Weary, and bewildered, with questions and fears and frustrations and loneliness.

The opening words of this passage spoke right to me. You see, I DO know, and I HAVE heard about God's unfathomable understanding, and His amazing power and His unending love. I know very well that He is the source of strength, and that hoping in Him will enable me to soar, to run, and to walk without weariness taking over. Isn't it interesting how we can know something so incredible and yet forget to walk in it? Isn't it strange, this tendency to settle for weary when wonderful is right in front of me. See, in the fog of sorrow I've been trying to medicate my hurt. I guess everyone does that. TV going way too late because I can't sleep, keeping my pj's on all day because I can't bring myself to get out of bed, cleaning house so that at least one thing in my life is under control. When I read these words in Isaiah, they immediately fell over my heart as the soothing medicine I really needed. The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of Heaven and Earth doesn't get tired. His understanding is unsearchable. And girls like me who dare to put their hope in Him can let it all go, and leave it up to Him.

It's time to soar, my friends. What do I have to lose? Here goes!!

Happy 2008 to you and yours!!

A Light Has Dawned

Isaiah 9:2 The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death [a]
a light has dawned.

3 You have enlarged the nation
and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you
as people rejoice at the harvest,
as men rejoice
when dividing the plunder.

4 For as in the day of Midian's defeat,
you have shattered
the yoke that burdens them,
the bar across their shoulders,
the rod of their oppressor.

5 Every warrior's boot used in battle
and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning,
will be fuel for the fire.

6 For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, [b] Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

7 Of the increase of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David's throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.


MERRY CHRISTMAS!! The Dawn from On High is here! The yokes of bondage are shattered, the bloody battle clothes can be thrown away. FOR UNTO US A CHILD IS BORN!! He is the Hope of All Ages, the Captive's Deliverer, and the Great Healer. He is indeed my Wonderful Counselor, my Mighty God, my Everlasting Father, and my Beloved Prince of Peace.

I've lamented over the last few days that such grief came into my life at Christmastime. No more. In the midst of this grief, I will celebrate the fact that the One who will overcome my every hurt was born for me. The Light that shines in my dark times has come. His birth set in motion the ultimate victory for us all.

Peace and joy to you and yours this Christmas! I'll "see" you when the celebration is over.

There's this thing...

There's this thing about blogging... It's just so... well, public. I've debated with myself about how much information to put on this blog about what I am currently experiencing. Part of me argues that my pain is not for public scrutiny. The other part maintains that pain is a part of life, and Woman on the Edge isn't about to back away from life, even the pain. I'm still not sure which part won. (That's the thing about debates... you're never really sure of the winner.)

But for now, I'll say this: I am experiencing and grieving a great loss in my life. For the protection of everyone involved, the specifics of that loss will most likely not be discussed on this blog. What WILL be discussed is the part that matters: Woman on the Edge is indeed on the edge, and GOD IS TAKING CARE OF HER. Wonderful, amazing, vivid, incredible life on the edge with God is worth it. Even in times of pain. I'm starting to realize another dimension of God's massive love, and I invite you to explore it with me.

My counselor sent me an email saying, “God’s arms are around you. He loves you.” I replied to her, “I know He loves me… I’m starting to think I’m His favorite!”

It’s true. God is overwhelming me with love and comfort through Riverside Church, through His provision, through His presence. Today I stood in my kitchen making Christmas cookies. I just stood there doing a normal activity as if my heart wasn’t broken in a million pieces. I stood in a contented peace that I simply can’t explain. It’s that peace that passes all understanding. How can God be so good to me?

I don’t understand where the ability to get up in the morning comes from, but its there. I don’t understand where the ability to make the hardest decisions of my life is coming from but its there. I only understand that I’m God’s girl. I’ve put my little hand in His great big one, and we walk on.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving present your requests to God. And the peace of God that transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4)

Thank God for His peace standing guard over my injured heart. He will hover over yours, too, in your times of pain. My Prince of Peace rules and reigns in peace, and will give it in generous amounts to those who trust in Him. If you don't believe it, keep reading. I'll be doing my best to let you see it happen in me.

Favorite Things Continued

OK, so I still need it, so here are some more:

My ALABAMA CD collection
Josh Turner's voice
Dark chocolate
Friends who let me cry
Paula Deen's Home Cooking on Food Network
My ear piercings. I'm actually considering another one.
Christmas movies
Christmas cookies
The way God takes care of me
Absolute Truth
Did I say dark chocolate?
Christy's tattoo
Sweet tea
Psalm 71
Willie Nelson singing "Pretty Paper"
Peace


OH! And the white dress with the blue satin sash thing... especially on my little girl.

Raindrops on Roses

In the spirit of Christmas, as Julie Andrews' voice rings in my head "When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeeeeeeeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don't feeeeeeeeel SOOOOooooo Baaaaaad!"

Here are some of my favorite things right now:

A FABULOUS girl named Mackenzie
An AMAZING boy named Levi
Riverside Church
Movies with a friend
Friends who love me so much they cry when I hurt
Peanut butter fudge
My worn out copy of Streams in the Desert
My worn out NIV
A good manicure
My tattoo
Mudslides
Starbucks Dark Chocolate Peppermint Frappucino
Oranges from my Daddy's grove
Orange juice from those oranges
My girl in ballet shoes
Drivin' my Daddy's truck! It smells like him, and is all marked up by him inside. The arm rest has an indention where his arm fits. Driving it makes me remember who I am... who I'm proud to be.
Christmas red nail polish (only in December)
Long, hot showers
Good fiction novels
Phone calls from my sister
My little girl's laugh
Apple Cinnamon Febreze
My boy on his bike goin' full speed ahead
Did I say peanut butter fudge?
LIVEChat
Friendships. Deep, meaningful ones.
HOPE.


OH! And I'm with Julie on the brown paper packages tied up with strings, too. Bright copper kettles aren't so bad either.