ForeverLOVEd

All wisdom is summed up in two words, wait and hope. –Emily Dickinson  There it sat…tucked away in the corner as I folded and refolded shepherds’ robes and angel wings. The cold stung my hands just enough to remind me that Christmas was around the corner. The hustle and bustle kept me warm as the beautiful holiday songs kept sweet melodies in my head. I can still hear them now. And perhaps in all of that madness, the madness of a holiday no one seems to have enough time to prepare for, it could have been lost. Between the turn up the heater, and pour the hot chocolate, and address one more card, I could have missed it. But there it sat, humble, and almost hidden from the world. And, in between delivering ornaments, and putting on pageants, I saw it.  It caught my eye, not for the fullness, or the promise, or the glory of the king it held. The manger caught my eye, and took my breath, because for the first time all season, I saw it was empty. The brown wood, carefully construct

For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother's womb. Psalm 139.3  The crisp morning air took my breath away that fall morning. And maybe it was that air, or the wooden pew that creaked below me, or the wise friend sitting beside me, or the warm sanctuary of the church, or maybe it was the perfect combination of it all, but that morning I had a lot to be thankful for. You know those moments...the ones where it all makes sense. Those moments that have you in pure gratitude for your life, your journey, and then every blessing from our good Lord. As my hands rested softly on the row in front of me and my knees settled into the kneeler below, I bowed my head in utter thanks to God. I think I'd like to call that moment perspective. So easy it is to notice my trials, to see my struggles, and to count my losses. Even in my thanks, I am often recounting the crisis avoided or the challenge overcome. But in that moment, I knew pure thanks, for the good. "Lord, help

"Arise, shine; for your light has come, And the glory of the LORD has risen upon you." Isaiah 60:1 We knew it was fall at our house when our mom took out the book about the little old lady who was not afraid of anything. The clomping shoes, the wiggling pair of pants, and the jack-o-lantern all came to life year after year in our living room!  And while I loved the book, I never really connected with that little old lady, because for starters, I'm afraid of lots of things. This lady, who was followed home by all these spooky items, proceeds to open her door to them.  Even at seven, no ounce of curiosity could have gotten me to open the door in that scenario.  Unknowns terrify me.  The mystery. The thrill. This momentary leap of faith. It scares me. Perhaps that's why I'm constantly declaring I am ready to fall in love, but stay, standing on the edge, afraid. Perhaps that's why I worry when I have called my mom multiple times in a row to check in, and she hasn&

O LORD, you have searched me and you know me. Psalm 139:1 I greeted my hair guru with a smile, hugged her tight and sat down in the spinning chair. She ran her fancy comb through my outgrown blonde locks. And, as she always did, asked what we would be doing with my hair that day. To which I would confidently declare, "Whatever you want."  I realize the risk I take when I sit in the chair and say those three words. And as she flips her hands through my hair and talks about color, I nod and agree. The shiny scissors quickly chop a line across my back and my hair falls to the floor. There it is, in a pile below me. And already I feel like I've shed ten pounds.  A control freak to my core, I surprise myself with this free spirit when it comes to my hair. I know it's not common for every girl to walk in and literally let the hair dresser do whatever they want; my gal confirms that truth. We laugh about the girls who come in for a CHANGE and fifty pictures of hair that loo

But now, O LORD, You are our Father, We are the clay, and You our potter; And all of us are the work of Your hand. Isaiah 64:8 They catch my eye. In the moonlight that glows against the night sky, I see them. Through raindrops that hit the pavement gently, they turn my head. As the sun beats down its golden rays, I cannot help but stop and look. In and out of seasons, in moments of my life, both good and bad, I recognize their beauty.  They steal my heart, quietly and gently, most often when I'm not looking. I love the roses that line our driveway. Sometimes a million colors are on display as they bloom right and left. Sometimes only the tiniest bud can be seen, because I am looking. Sometimes I completely forget about them, and yet they stay their growing so beautifully. I pull into the driveway, look to my right, and know I am home because of these simple and beautiful roses. There, they line the way in their deep reds, and unbelievable oranges. The soft pink, an

Give me your heart, my son, And let your eyes delight in my ways. Proverbs 23:26 I can't stand it. The click click cllliickk. The flashing light on the dashboard. The sputtering of a motor that has made one too many trips. I can't stand the car troubles that come with being a car owner.  After I send the, "I wish I had a husband who could take care of my car" text, and make the reluctant "Sure, take my entire month's pay to fix my car" agreement, I am annoyed that the car is something I just cannot fix on my own. No matter how many owners manuals I read or YouTube videos I watch, I do not and probably never will be able to fix the car. And for someone who wants instant results and the freedom a car brings, that's quite the predicament. Cars are just one of those things, unless you are a mechanic, or a car person, they require maintenance and an expert.    But to be quite frank, I hate having to rely on someone else. My trust is fragile, and even just

Every year on our birthday we could count on one thing. No matter how old we were turning, or how busy our day was, we expected a special phone call. I still hear his voice singing over the phone as I sat in the living room in Seattle and on the front porch in Texas. Grandpa made birthday phone calls. And grandpa made birthdays special.  There's really nothing I like less in the world than talking on the phone. Even growing up as I chatted with my sweet grandparents, I got anxiety. It made me uncomfortable to carry on a conversation with someone who's facial expressions and gestures I could not see. The mystery scared me.  My heart even beats a little faster just thinking about it. But year after year I heard on the phone my grandpa, expressing his authentic love for me in the most beautiful version of happy birthday I have ever heard, because a birdie told him it was my special day.  September 9th will never roll around again without me thinking of this man. And more important

TJ11  "So will My  word be which goes forth from My mouth; It  will  not return to Me empty,  Without  accomplishing what I desire,  And without succeeding  in the matter  for which I sent it." Isaiah 55:11 The first book I ever read by myself was called "Itchy Itchy Chicken Pox".  It was one of those books that only had a few words on each page. It was a book where all the words had the same root; itchy, twitchy, yucky, mucky. I read it so many times I could have recited it to you verbatim. The book was about Chicken Pox for goodness sakes, and yet I read it like it was the most amazing thing I had ever heard. I was proud. And with that pride came a feeling of endless possibility. If I could read these words, on this page, perhaps I could read anything.  Everyone say a quick prayer that when your kids learn to read they will pick a more entertaining story, but for my parents, Itchy Itchy Chicken Pox was their daughters pride and joy. I instantly wanted to share thi

“The greatest love story of all time is contained in a tiny white host.” Archbishop Fulton Sheen I remember my First Communion vividly. Baby's breath floated delicately through my braided hair. Light pink nail polish gently shined from each finger. I remember a pretty cake. And the moment I got to process in with the wine to turn into Christ's blood. I remember the special pictures and big celebration after. That day was different. That day was special. And while I didn't necessarily recognize it, in that moment, I do not think in my own life I will ever have a day quite as special. The day I made my First Communion, was the day I got to walk down the aisle for the first time and see my life alive, because of the man who sacrificed His life for me.  As spring rolls around, and First Communion's take place in churches around the world, I'm reminded of the wedding feast. For as long as I can remember, I have loved weddings. There was even a time in my life I thought t

Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the AUTHOR and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him  endured the cross,  despising the shame, and has  sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:2  Being an adult is hard work. Every time when I think I am getting close to considering myself to be grown up, life shows me otherwise. Because working a job is not enough, pile on bills that need to be paid, toilets that need to be cleaned, and food that needs to be bought. Not to even mention, the relationships you are trying to build and figure out and maneuver as you grow from daughter or son, student, sibling, to peer in so many ways. And then the taxes, oh the taxes. And the credit card company who charged you wrong, the insurance that got screwed up, and the little issues that plague our minds and our time.  So when I look at the piles and piles of "to do" that await my adult life, it's a wonder that I even have a moment to stop and think about the real problems a

The For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. 1 Corinthians 1:25  I can't take anymore advice. Yes, I know, I am old, clearly single, not producing babies, and quite frankly not even exactly sure of my purpose in life. But I might be sick if I read another blog on how to get the guy or see another article on the top ten ways to seal the kiss. I get sweaty just thinking about the 50 I'm engaged, just got married or pregnant Instagrams that flood my feed every day. My heart melts a little every time I get asked about when I am going to FINALLY find my man. And perhaps I bring it upon myself, because I want those things in my life too! I ask you for your tips for love. I want to hear your fairytale. I want someone to look me in the eye and say you will get your turn, and actually believe them. But, suddenly I realized what I want more than that is to stop listening to everyone else's advice and just be mysel

"And the tree was happy."  My favorite book of all time is, "The Giving Tree". This story chronicles a journey between a boy and a tree. As the boy grows, his needs for the tree change. And as the boy comes and goes, the tree's love for the boy remains. The tree offers every part of its being to serve the boy. And the boy needs every part of the tree; branches, apples, trunk, and stump. I have read this story at least 100 times. And every time I pick it up, I am in awe of the love of the tree. To give your everything for the life of someone else, that is love.  The week of thanksgiving my Grandpa passed away. He had been sick for awhile and we were all as prepared as we could be, but it's never easy to face the end. A couple weeks ago we said our last goodbyes at his funeral mass and burial service. In between readings and songs, I looked to the pew in front of me and saw my grandma. Then I looked to the right of the alter where a picture of my grandpa stood