Last Christmas

This Christmas week, has been very merry indeed. Its been filled with family, friends, food, laughter, presents and love. But, its also been bitter sweet.

I've spent nearly 30 Christmas' in this home, and this year is the last one I ever will. My parents are retiring in 2015, and they are moving to another town to be closer to family, which is wonderful and exciting. But these past few days, as we've helped my parents clean out the attic and sort through the stuff, there have been moments where I felt nearly paralyzed with sadness as I was overcome with memories and emotions. 

My parents close on their new house on January 9th, but won't retire until the summer. But, that weekend in January, they plan to begin moving things to their new house each month, to make the final move easier. The next time I step foot in this home, there will not be a bed in my room, or things in my closet. The end is very near. 

Last night, Christmas eve, we went to our final Christmas service at church. The church were I was baptized, where I met Jesus, and went to Sunday school. The church where I made friends, played on the lawn, spent countless hours. During our final song, I stood quietly looking at the alter, taking it all in, just wanting to remember the church, because its been exactly the same since I was a child. 

And last night, I woke up after everyone went to bed, and wondered the quite rooms of this house.  A lot of life happened between these four walls. Good things and bad. Memories and moments that we treasure, and a million others that we have long since forgotten. Dreams came true, hearts were broken, fights and make up's occurred. First kisses, slow dances, parties. They all happened here. It is just a house, just brick and drywall, but somewhere along the way, it became home. A refuge from the storm, a place where love always prevailed. 

We leave tomorrow afternoon to head back to Dallas. So this, my final night, in my home before everything changes, before everything is different, before normal is no more, I will take a moment to thank this house. Thank it for always being warm and inviting. For always keeping me safe from the storm, and for being more than just a house. 

In these last few hours and days of the only "normal" I've ever known, I'm reminded of the quote by Steven Rogers. "Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but its whats in the middle that counts. So when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up. And it will."

More than whats in the bag

Philippians 4:8

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things.

Let's dwell on this today sisters. What are three things you can dwell on, think about, and focus on right now?

I Will

I will give less energy to dreading. I will trust my training. I will do my best to not be afraid.

                       Kristen Armstrong.

I am currently reading the book Mile Markers by Kristen Armstrong. This is one of the best books I have read in years. The book speaks to me on so many levels. It speaks to me about the physicality of running, the spirituality of running, the emotion of running, and the growth that comes from being a runner. It speaks to me about life, friendship, womanhood, family, and faith.

She puts into words exactly how I feel about certain situations and experiences. She is raw, vulnerable and sappy, but who said those had to be bad things?

I read the quote above and it really stuck me. One of my weaknesses is fear. I feel like I go through life trying to dodge fear, or manage situations so that I won't have to take that leap of faith into the unknown. So I won't have to fear falling down and having to get back up, or worse, falling down and never getting back up.

Earlier this week I tried to make a major rash decision based upon fear. I kept telling P I had a bad feeling and I knew things were going to be bad, and terrible, and I gave into the dread, and allowed myself to believe that I didn't have the strength, determination, or will to take this risk. So often I fear the unknown, I fear new situations and new people. When I give into fear, I lose faith in myself, and faith that the Lord will be right there with me. 

Today, I will keep reminding myself, to not be afraid. 

Finding Comfort

I have this neighbor, S, and she is great. She is funny, smart, and kind. S does not have any family that lives close by, and the family that she does have is not supportive of her at all. She is in her late 40's, divorced several times, and had some pretty rough history. She works hard to keep herself in a lifestyle that she likes.
S has these 2 dogs. She calls them her children. She loves those dogs with every fiber of her being. When the dogs hurt, she hurts. When they whine, its like her world is going to end. She loves them so much. She tells me about all they do together. She tells me they smile at her, they sing for her, and they talk to her. Hmmmm, I have to call bologna on that one, but hey, it each his own right. Who am I to judge? I have a dog and I love him, but I do talk to him like he is a person, but at the end of the day, I realize he is just a dog and not a human.

One of her dogs has cancer. He has a huge tumor growing near his hip, and he is in quite a bit of pain. His legs shake, he has no control over his bladder, and his skin is flaking off. The dog needs to be put down. The vet has told her this, her friends, and her family. But she can't put the dog down. One day she was crying to me in the parking lot (again) and I found myself getting really frustrated with her. She gripes about how she can't sleep at night because she is worried about money and the dog. She has spent thousands of dollars on this dog in the past 3 months. As she cried on my shoulder I found it harder and harder to give her comfort. All I really wanted to do was tell it to her straight, and have a little come to Jesus meeting with her. As she cried, I tried to figure out where my frustration was coming from, and why I had so little compassion.
Finally, I realized that she cannot put her dog down because that is where she finds her acceptance and her comfort. Suddenly, my frustration melted away and I understood her pain. I began to analyze what I would do if I were in her shoes.
I began to ask myself, where do I get my comfort? Where does my acceptance come from? Ideally, I want to say the Lord. I want to say that He is my source of comfort above all else, and that He is the one who I look to.
To be completely honest, I know that I cannot say that without a doubt. I get a lot of my comfort from P, my parents, and my friends. I look to them to fill me up when I am running low. There is nothing wrong with that, but I need my first priority, the first one I go to, the first one I run to to be the Lord. That is my prayer. That I continue to fall more and more in love with God. That He and He alone be the source of my comfort and my joy. For the next few weeks before Easter, this is going to be my prayer and my meditation.
Where do you find comforts from?

Cards of Faith

These are my note cards, and they are one of my most prized possessions. 86 weeks ago, my best friend moved away. For 7 years, in college and after my best friend and I have picked a verse of the week and meditated on it, we worked on memorizing them, and we talked about them. But, 86 weeks ago, that got a lot harder to do. Now we no longer memorize the verses, but we still think, pray, and meditate on them.

Here is how it works. On odd weeks, I pick a verse. On even weeks, she picks a verse. When it is your turn to pick the verse, you write it out on 2 note cards, and put your name, date, and week number on the top. The back is for writing prayer requests, worries, anxieties, thoughts, feelings, and updates. Some weeks the backs are more full than others. Then you mail the note cards out to the other person on Thursday, and they have it in the mail by Monday for their week. No one has ever read these cards other than the two of us. This is something personal and private between us and we don't really share it with anyone else.

It is a fun way to keep in touch, keep us accountable to spending time in the word, and it continues to connect us even thought we live hours apart. When I get my note card, it is one of the best moments of my week!

Blessing Bags

As a couponer, I often get items for free or for pennies on the dollar. Sometimes, the items that I get are travel size. I usually hold on to these items and use them when we travel, or I donate them to the food bank.
Last week, I came up with the idea to pack little bags full of my travel items and let P, who drives around all the time carry them in his car. When he passes someone on the side of the road, who is in need, he can give this bag to them, and hopefully be a blessing.
It's not much, but it is a small gesture to be a blessing to someone else.

Home Again

We have a home. Ahhh...peace...... I never realized how much not having a home would affect me. That place to look forward to at the end of the day. Surrounded by things that make you smile, make you laugh, and bring you comfort. A place to call your own. Your environment. It is important. So here we are at home, all but a temporary one at that. We are living in our small one bedroom apartment. It is odd really, going from a home in the country to an apartment in the city. We did a complete 180 from where we were before. A small home, 30 acres, a garden, a slow meandering street with the occasional car going by. To now, a small one bedroom apartment, no yard, just a small porch, right at the intersection of the busiest highway in Texas.
Talk about different. But, it is ok. Because I know, or at least I hope, that we wont be here forever. This is just a temporary pause, a ditch, a resting place. A time and a place to stop, regroup, figure out life, make some decisions, find our direction, our path, and then forge ahead.
That is how I see our life here.
It is funny really, because I gripped, and excuse my french, bitched about our old house. I was pissed off, again please pardon the language, every time I had to get out of my car to open and close the gate. I was frustrated about the single pane windows. I was irritated by the fact that it took me a good 20 minutes just to get to the nearest store. I was annoyed that I used so much extra gas just getting home from work everyday. But, somewhere along the way, I fell in love with that life. I fell in love with that charming, quirky, messy, old house. I fell in love with the sound of the screen door banging shut. I fell in love with the sound of the kaddy bugs chirping so loud every night that it was almost deafening. I fell in love with that old worn down road in front of my house. I didn't realize it, until the day we moved out. I had a major sob fest, and I set on my front porch, legs on P's lap, and took one final picture of us at that house.
When we walked away, I realized something else, it is not the structure that makes a house a home, it is the people, and the life they create for themselves that makes it a home.
Here we are, in the big city, in the exact spot I dreamed about for years. The life I dreamed about, the urban metropolis, full of glitz and glamour, and to be frank, I am not sure I want it any more. But, again were here. Here is home. And, I am realizing more and more, that home for me is wherever P is. It is funny to me to think about when we got married, and I loved him so much, and I could never imagine loving him more than I did that day. Now, looking back, I have grown to love him even more than I did that day. Home is where he is, and where he goes, I will follow. House, apartment, trailer, or a extended stay hotel room, where he is, there my heart is.
This is where God has us for now, and I am learning to be content no matter the circumstance,-- well, I am praying that I am, and I am a work in progress, and I hope I am getting there every a little more everyday.

Book Review: Velvet Elvis

I was given the book Velvet Elvis, by Rob Bell to read. It is absolutely amazing. In the book, Bell attempts to "repaint the way we see Christianity." The book captivated me from the 1st chapter, which was entitled "Jump." Bell compares Christianity with a trampoline that he and his sons jump on. He states that the springs on a trampoline to doctrine and they are necessary, but the object of the trampoline is to jump. He then states " I am far more interested in jumping than I am about arguing whose trampoline is better. You rarely defend the things you love. You enjoy them and tell others about them and invite others to enjoy them with you."
His words had a profound effect on me. I don't want to argue with people, I want them to taste and see that the Lord is good. Living for him is thrilling, exciting, tiring, hard, exhilarating, and wonderful, all at the same time.
So come and jump with me!