Purpose

As we start the New Year, I am reminded of years past and what I have longed for, accomplished, and have yet to fulfill. I just love the newness of a Monday or the first of the month or a January full of unrealized potential and loads of plans and goals. With each January we are given a new chance and more time and, as I get older, I am realizing that time is more valuable than money. I have a small list of resolutions this year: less sugar, less screen time, more quality in our week, more love for my husband and my kids, and leaning on my Jesus. Giving myself grace, walking daily, returning to yoga, writing on Sundays, and […]

All dressed up and no place to go. This is the dilemma of toddlers across the world. They exist in a perpetual state of readiness to go somewhere, anywhere, and not be invited to go along. I am the youngest of four children, six years behind my three siblings who are all 18 months apart. The door was always shut in my face as everyone raced out to ride their bikes, play with their friends, and do all the things I was too little and too unwanted to do. It was my eternal and infinite holding pattern. Driven to Succeed My mantra as a toddler (and sometimes still) was “When I get older, I’m gonna ____________.” When I was in elementary school,

Life can be mundane. When we are young, we anticipate the exciting, eventful, purpose-filled existence that we are told is our future. We launch into our 20s with such optimism about our life, yet it doesn’t take long for that optimism to wane. We start real life lacking the joy in the everyday. Beginning our careers, building a promising relationship, getting married, and starting a family look like exciting benchmarks to a fulfilling future. And they are. But they are also the start of real life. The Frustrations of Real Life Real life includes challenging coworkers, repetitive work that you find cumbersome, promotions you think should be yours but aren’t. Relationships that fizzle or a husband who leaves his dirty laundry on

On Mother’s Day of the year my husband died, my daughter presented me with a book by Ann Voskamp—One Thousand Gifts. Voskamp’s writing challenged me to draft a gratitude list with the goal of reaching 1,000 things I was thankful for. But how do you do that? How can you be grateful when all that is precious is slipping away—in our case, our home, all we had worked for against retirement, my live-in mom with Alzheimer’s, and my husband’s terminal cancer diagnosis?  What I learned during that season—after entirely too much whining and self-pity—was this: Even as our home and the people I prized most were no longer mine, there was an abundance of gifts to be grateful for. Even During Dark

A friend graciously let us stay in their mountain home for a week. My husband loves the mountains and has the facial hair and four wheel drive to prove it. I love adventure and so we headed north. The home, situated at the top of several winding, icy, muddy and unpaved roads  made it impossible for some of the other cars to make it up the precipice. Since ours had four-wheel drive, I often served as the shuttle, from their cars parked near the highway to the few miles up. Straight up.  I hardly minded, because every time I turned a corner (which was often), I found each view more majestic than the next. How could someone not be impressed and in awe?

We recently decided to pull our twins out of school and homeschool them for 4th grade in an effort to preserve what’s left of their childhood. After our move across the country last summer, that was the one aspect of all of it that I kept having a hard time with: I did not have peace. As I get older, I am realizing more and more our gut is our compass. So, I changed my mind, and guess what? That’s okay. We can start off one way and decide that’s not for us and turn around mid-destination. Life allows U-turns. Starting Over We arrived in our new state last summer, and last fall was the first time I worked outside the home