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 ...

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 lo...

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 sof...

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 imp...