It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like…..

My heart is torn as I see the world around me unfolding into the beautiful display of celebration. For so many this is a hard season to endure. We all know them….maybe we are them… The one who’s only been sober for a week and wondering how on earth to face a holiday without alcohol. The one who can count the days since their loved one passed. The one who’s lost count of the days since their loved one walked out. So many are hurting. So many are hungry….for so many things.

I have to believe He’s bigger than this, than me, than the burdens we carry. I believe there are moments of mending. If only we are given the grace to see them. Lord gives us eyes to see Your hand during this season. Give us courage and insight to BE Your hands. Help us to love beyond ourselves. Help us to be peace on earth. Thank You….

Click here for a sweet reminder —->

Pretty, it ain’t

For the last 2 weeks, I’ve been sharing my 2 bedroom apartment with my soon to be ex-husband. His apartment will be ready in a week. I share the living room with what seems like 2 tons of boxes delivered 2 days ago. I share my bathroom with 2 cats. I share my futon with my laptop and the occasional snack. And I’m trying very hard to share the best of me with my 2 boys.

All the while, I find myself wanting to document this great, quiet, confident change, this coming of age [though middle it may be] with grace and dignity. I want to tell a tale of great balance and character as I move forward ….but you know, it is real life. It is my life and it is loud and clangy and when it IS quiet, well, it’s the clamy handed, nervous eye twitching kind of quiet. I’m constantly trying to remind myself to “cling not to the things you normally seek for security”. So, instead of buying pretty, shiney things, I just wander and wander for hours upon hours down the aisles of Target telling myself, “nope. no. unuh. don’t need it.” Instead of splurging on Starbucks, I get an empty cup from Panera for less than 2 bucks and fill it with sugars, skim milk and dark roast and act like it tastes just as good. I sip this going down the lanes of Target.

As I wait for said roomate and his belongings to move out, my sons’ schools to start, my school to start, my new church to be found, my weight to be lost, my hair to grow out,  my new “life” to begin, I find that I’m tempted to pick up old bondage and shake it like a package under the Christmas tree. Funny how waiting can make standards drop and dreams fade. 

You know, all of my life I’ve struggled with that desire for change to be “pretty”. It is what is and pretty it ain’t but maybe that’s where grace shines through…knowing it’s strong enough for my knee-knocking growth. Hoping. 🙂

click the worrier for song o hopin’