Out doing it

A dear friend just sent me a quote as a little encouragement for a bit of a daunting personal project I'm working on.

And she didn't mean it as an "ouch" at all.
But, it was...and I know why.
And I need to pay attention to that.

The timing is not a coincidence.
I felt like God invited me to do something else today in church.
It was such a strong invitation that I took my journal out and wrote it down; which will be ironic once you read the quote.
But, I knew I needed to commit.
In writing.

And then my friend sent this:

"There are two kinds of people: those who don't do what they want to do, so they write down in a diary [blog] about what they haven't done, and those who haven't time to write about it because they're out doing it."
-Richard Flournoy and Lewis R. Foster

So, I'm sure this break won't be for too long;
Because blogging is one of my secret (or not so secret) little joys.
But, this week is crazy anyway.
And there's a lot on my mind.

And so...for a little while at least,
just know...
"[I'm] out doing it."

Wait long enough

I put off my required Statistics Class for college graduation until the last possible semester. (Unfortunately, one of my character flaws has me often postponing things I need to do but don’t want to do. But, I digress.)

When I began the class, I was clearly reminded why I had chosen to delay the requirement. It was going to take all I had to pass this class. My lack of “left brain” became painfully obvious.

I joined a study group, which helped as much as anything could help my right brain in a left brain activity. But when the midterm came, I went into it feeling woefully ill prepared—not for lack of trying, but my brain just simply couldn’t wrap itself around the statistics.

I wasn’t in BYU’s testing center very long. I did what I could but there was a lot of guessing involved on the multiple choice “fill-in-the-bubble” test. When I handed it to the girl behind the counter, I wasn’t overly optimistic. And I still remember the almost symphonic ticking as the scanner let the world know every time my answer didn’t match up with the answer. It wasn’t pretty and I left before the orchestral performance of the scanner ended.

I walked out of the testing center and never walked back into the statistics class. I knew I had done horribly on the exam and I made the decision, almost immediately, that I would just focus on my other classes and retake statistics summer term.

But, this was no small decision. By quitting the class and taking it the next term, I was postponing my graduation...a fairly significant adjustment to my life plan at the time.

A few weeks before the end of the semester, I ran into one of the guys from my study group. He asked where I had been (certainly glad he wasn’t responsible for my whereabouts…why hasn’t he tried to track me down sooner?) and I explained my horrible experience with the midterm and that I had clearly failed and decided to just retake the class next term.

His response is still engraved on my memory. “We all failed the midterm. It got graded on a curve and we’re all passing the class. You could have passed the class!”

I still get a bit of a pit in my stomach whenever I relive that short conversation. There I was...so close to the end. And yet, I had delayed my graduation because I assumed I knew how my experience was going to turn out.
I didn’t know there was going to be a different ending to the story.
Frankly, I didn’t even consider there could be a different ending.
But, God surely knew.
And I never even talked to Him about it.
And I certainly didn't wait long enough to find out for myself.

Have the patience to wait...long enough.

Lead me in thy truth, and teach me:
for thou art the God of my salvation;
on thee do I wait all the day.
Psalms 25:5

Waiting. Patiently.

As my life’s path has crossed with other women, I have noticed a common theme among so many of us.

We are often women in waiting.

Some of us are waiting for promised children or the return of a prodigal.
Some of us are waiting for healing, whether physical or spiritual.
Others are waiting for forgiveness, either to receive it or grant it.
There are women waiting for a spouse to come to church with them (while others of us wait for a spouse to show up at all).

It doesn’t seem to matter the age or the stage of life. While our circumstances are all so very different, our life journey is so often the same. That is not to say the experiences are the same, but in the actual process of learning and growing…and waiting, we are very much in this together.

In the scriptures, waiting is often right next to patience:
“I waited patiently for the Lord…” (Psalms 40:1)
“the patient waiting…” (2 Thes. 3:5)
“waiting patiently” (D&C 98:2)

The need for these two words to act together is likely very obvious. It doesn’t matter if you’re waiting for a delayed flight or a delayed blessing; the quality of patience helps you find meaning and fulfillment in the midst of the waiting. Ironically however, it is the waiting that often most tests our patience, particularly when we are waiting for something that is important to our hearts or eternally significant to our progress.

I have come to know for myself that God has had, does have and will always have a plan for me. He is a God of promises...my God of promises.

And while some of that plan and many of those promises have not come in the ways I would have expected or initially hoped for, I have learned to trust the path and the timing of God’s promised plan for me. And in the waiting on that plan, some of life’s sweetest lessons have become mine.

And for the next little while, I think I want to share a few.

(But I need some sleep first...so you'll have to wait a bit...couldn't resist.)

More olympic musings

That one sport where they race on skates around and around and around?
And they are hunched the whole time?
For like a gazillion laps?
Seriously...just watching it makes my back hurt.

Anyone else think the US Ski clothes look like pajamas?
No...really. They do.

I think they should cancel the race when the weather is bad.
It's only fair.

That Norwegian skater who's coach told him to go in the wrong lane when he was set to hit a world record? Yeah...there's a church talk in there somewhere.

And I know I said my fave moment was Lindsey and her hubby, but THIS was actually my favorite moment. I cannot watch any replay or story about Rochette without crying. I'm SO glad I watched Tuesday night. I hope she medals.

And yes, the Olympics have been HORRIBLE for my running schedule.
I'm going to bed now.

But....GO TEAM USA.

Good night, You.

Dear You:

It's been nearly a year since I last wrote.
And just like that one time, tonight I missed you.

You see, I've had several "big deal" dinners and banquets in the last few years...and the invitations usually says "Laurel and guest"...well, that "guest" slot means YOU. And alas, you are not here....making it just "Laurel".

Yes...I'd prefer to go stag than to have some guy by my side just for the sake of having some guy by my side. (I don't need the speculation. How does that help anybody?)

But, tonight, my dear, oh...tonight.

You would have loved it. I just know it.

The table we were assigned to?

Well, you would have laughed at my witty remark to President so-and-so (btw, he saw Invictus and loved it too...something about knowing that he saw that movie and loved it too was just really cool....oh, and I told him to see The Young Victoria and I admitted I've seen it four times. I thought I'd feel silly until Elder so-and-so said HE has seen it twice...I knew I liked him.).

We talked about my major and that one time the professor told me I wasn't smart enough to be a speech pathologist. He tried to "one up" my story (No, really, he actually said, "Oh, I've got a better one.") and told me about the professor who did a similar thing to him (Turns out he DID have a better story.)

We laughed.

He shared his full-color dream last night where he showed up at General Conference without any prepared remarks. But, he wasn't worried and yet he knew he should be. (I think when he speaks, I'll be tempted to giggle a little.)

Then he shared the best advice his dad every gave him: Discover what you think about when you don't need to think about anything and do that for a living. You'll be happier. (Don't you love that? I knew you'd love that.)

And I knew you'd love being there...And you wouldn't go just because you had to...just because I wanted you there. No, you'd actually love being there...and being there with me.

And I wouldn't have to worry about you not knowing what to say or understanding protocol...and every now and then we'd look at each other in that way we do.

But then...

I realized that I actually wouldn't have had the experience were you there. You see, I wouldn't have been at that table. Because there was only a seat for one (Elder so-and-so's wife wasn't able to make it. I told him I was sorry but to thank her for me because I knew I wouldn't be at that table were she there. He laughed and said he'd be sure to pass that along.).

And I realized that a lot of the things I've experienced...in the way I've experienced them...actually wouldn't have happened were you here. Because sometimes there's just "a seat for one". Sometimes I get to be where I am and do what I do because you aren't here yet.

And that's one of the interesting things in my life.
I have to miss you so I can have this.

But, on the drive home tonight, I wanted you sitting there talking about what we just experienced. And I wanted you to unload the car while I ran to the house to avoid the rain. And I wanted you to say, "oops. sorry I forgot to put the trash out this morning." And I wanted you. Here.

So, while I've had to miss you to have this?
Well, I think I'm ready to miss this (if I had to) so I can have you.

I know...sweet, right?

Good night, You.
Wherever you are.

Random Olympic thoughts

I don't understand 2-person bobsled.
If the 2nd person is just going to sit there hunched down, why get in the sled at all? Why not just help with the take off, let go and stay put?

Ice dancing.
I mocked anyone who thought it was a "sport".
And yet, last night, I couldn't stop watching it and was so excited the Canadian team one gold and the American team won silver (did you know this was the first time a North American team won? You didn't? Well, you would if you were as knowledgeable about ice dancing as me.)

Evan Lysacek.
I love him. I really do. And I loved watching him win.

I miss Michelle Kwan and I'm STILL bugged those younger whipper-snappers swept in both times and denied her of the gold. I know I need to let it go. I know I do.

I still don't understand the difference between a triple axle and a triple lutz.

But that Yuna chick from South Korea is adorable.

Shaun White is CRAZY. But so cool.

The story last night about Kevin Pearce, the snowboarder who suffered a critical brain injury during a halfpipe accident on New Year's Eve, was SO moving. He has an older brother with Downs and his mother said that she thinks raising him has prepared their family for this next life experience. I want to know that family. If you didn't see the story, you missed out.

I think Bob Costas is a tease. Why can't they just show the entire skating competition all at once? Why must they go back and forth between sports?

Ski cross is insane.
That's all I have to say about that.

Skeleton? Really? what is that? I'm not impressed. You can't even see what you're doing for crying out loud.

Favorite Olympic moment so far?
When Lindsay Vonn won gold and couldn't stop crying with her husband and he just calmly said, "you deserved it, babe." I loved that we got to hear such a private moment between them...even though I felt like we were invading...i'm so glad the mic stayed on. She was so overcome and he was so sweet and they obviously are best friends and love each other so much. It just reminded me how much I want a Mr. Vonn...someone to just say...at the end of a long hard road when I get what I worked for..."you deserved it, babe."

Yep, I can even turn the Olympics into a Jane Austen moment.

Fat don't fly.

Years from now when this phrase is commonplace, you're going to be tempted to say, "Hey! I know who invented that phrase! I heard it first from this cool girl named Laurel." But, you need to know that I heard it first yesterday whilst watching the Ski Jump competition on NBCs coverage of the Olympics (which I am LOVING, btw.)

Yep.
That's what the commentator said.

He was talking about the unbelievable leanness of these ski jumpers and how every % of body fat they have decreases their distance and amount of time they are able to stay in the air and go as far as they can go.

And, to make his point, during one of the amazing jumps, he simply said:
"Fat don't fly."

For some reason, it kind of made me laugh.
But, then, I found myself thinking of that phrase the rest of the day.
And I was repeating it in my head.
Over and over again.

And I think it's a phrase that needs to find its place in our vernacular.
You know, kind of like:
"Oh, no he didn't" or
"That's what she said" or
"Your mother wears army boots" (my dad gets credit for that one)

I'm totally going to start using it whenever I need to talk about the need for something/someone to step it up.

Speaking of which...
as I embark on a week when I am DETERMINED to kick this "I'm a runner" thing into real gear (because, I'm not gonna lie...it's not easy to change your life after spending most of your life NOT being a runner and i'm only on day 27 and I think that's farely pathetic on Feb. 21)...well, I've found one of my fave pictures of myself during my more healthy days and I've planned out my week of workouts and...

yeah...

"Fat don't fly" is nearly calligraphied on my bathroom mirror.
Because is doesn't, you know.
And I want to.

I want to fly.

Nesting?

I should NOT be this excited about plates.
I really shouldn't.
But, I think my female instincts are in a "nesting" sort of mood.
(and I'm sure it has nothing to do with all the pregnant women around me. no. nothing.)

And suddenly, nothing is more exciting to me than my new plates.
And I have to say how much I loved the "a woman can never have too many plates" comments...because I would have thought you were all crazy before. I mean, SHOES, I get...but plates?

Oh, but now I get it.
I GET IT!
Because I am oh so excited about my newest little purchase.
I dare say GIDDY.

But I'm not going to do the reveal until they actually arrive and I can take live pictures.

So, you'll just have to wait.

Oh, who am I kidding?
I STINK at waiting (the great irony of my life, yes.)









So...










without further adieu....










are you ready for how much you are going to love these?
are you ready???




















I went with these traditional white .Don't you love?
(and yes, you are correct. these are NOT the same traditional white many of you voted on...but they are lovelier and classier and more-me-er. And I love what Tammy said: "The Traditional is the Larrie (my mom, just fyi) in you. Safe, conventional, mother of four seeks solace in a good old fashioned home cooked meal and in dinnerware that compliments such ideals. These are a timeless classic and will ALWAYS work no matter the guest or the era (hmm a lot like Larrie) sort of a no brainer and very practical".)

But, instead of the ready made "set" (pictured above), I just got what I wanted.
The dinner plates (pictured).
The cereal bowls (also pictured...& I adore them...what is it with me and bowls?)
and the PASTA bowls (pictured below...which I think are cooler than the salad plates and yet can be used as salad plates...or pasta bowls...or soup bowls...SO practical!)
Well done, Laurel. Well done.

I found them, loved them and placed them in my little Mikasa cart.
And I was much pleased.

Oh, but then upon realizing I was "much pleased",
Well....

















I might have looked one more time at the plates that really spoke to me.
(Or as Tammy said: "The French country represents the Jane Austen in you. They are all together lovely and very befitting of a woman with her own means and not dependent on a man for such support (at least not yet) You really like them but aren't sure if they are practical enough and part of you wants to throw caution to the wind and just get them but is worried you will regret the decision later.")
She nailed it...but...












I have not a single regret.

Don't worry. I didn't go crazy.
This is just my new "brunch set".
Shouldn't every girl have a "brunch set"?

So, I just got the salad plates and the bowls (because I told you how I loved the bowls!...what is it with me and bowls?) and I might have gotten the darling serving bowl pictured above too.
I might have.

I don't think I should be this excited about plates.
I have NEVER been this excited about plates.

Is this what nesting is?
Am I nesting?
Should I be worried?

(I think we should have a little "just around this corner" brunch and break them in. what do you think?)

My bridal shower

This is the story of my bridal shower and my current dilemma.

A couple of years ago (okay, like 2003) I had been living in a cute little cottage in this lush backyard of a dear older couple in Holladay (a great Salt Lake City suburb). And when I say "cottage", I'm serious. It was just a big open little 400 sq ft place...with a little stream running underneath it. You had to walk over a little bridge just to get to my front door.

Oh, I loved that place.
And I loved my neighbors and the women at church.
I grew a lot there.
And I grew out of the 400 sq. ft.

But, when it came time to move, I'm not going to lie, I felt a little jipt (gipt? gipped? jypd? how on earth do you spell that word?).

You see, this neighborhood...these women...my friends...had money.
And I always kind of secretly hoped that while I lived there, I'd get engaged.
Because I knew they would throw me one heckuva bridal shower.

I mentioned it casually to one of the women at church.
I might have said something like, "I can't believe I'm moving before I get a bridal shower!" (after attending a bridal shower where the girl totally scored.)

Well...

The night before I was leaving, I was home packing and my neighbor came over and asked if I could come look at something. Yeah, you know where this is going.

And those sweet women were all waiting for me.
With the "fancy spinach salad" and little quiches and pink lemonade and eclairs all on fancy dishes with pretty fresh flowers.

And the GIFTS!
Oh, my....THE GIFTS!

I got some new towels and a crystal vase and a plant and some stuff for my kitchen. I giggled...then I cried...then I giggled some more.

I got my bridal shower with THOSE women and I loved it.
But...

I didn't get plates.
And, it's seven years later.
And I want new plates.

Thus, the dilemma (am I spelling that right? Why can't I spell tonight?)

SO...help me, will you?

Should I go...

Modern (I like to pretend I'm modern even though I'm not but there is something very sexy about this little set to me.)

French Country (I fight it...but I'm a cottage girl at heart. And the bowl!Look at the bowl!)

or

Traditional? (the pattern I think I really want...but it's not on sale. Do I splurge?)

Vote.
Please.

Pretend it's my bridal shower.
Humor me.

xoxo

Looking forward

Yesterday, a young 21-year-old guy (who's been home from him mission for 4 months) gave one of the best talks I think I've ever heard about the Atonement of Jesus Christ. And it was one of those moments when I heard things that weren't even being said. The Lord used that time to teach me...

And then, at the end his talk, he said he wanted to share his favorite scripture. And I don't quite know how to explain it but I knew what scripture he was getting ready to share. It was like the spirit was talking just 10 seconds ahead of him. And I felt one of those "listen up" invitations that the spirit can be so good at giving.

"And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." (Luke 9:62)

I'm not quite ready to go there, I thought.
It's time, came the reply.

And I had to acknowledge that recently I too put my hand to the plough.
I did it because I knew it was the right thing to do.
But, I've spent a lot of time the last several weeks "looking back".
And I realized as he shared that scripture that the "looking back" is holding me back.

And then today, my mind has reflected on one of the great talks by Elder Holland that he gave a year ago at BYU, Remember Lot's Wife

"To yearn to go back to a world that cannot be lived in now; to be perennially dissatisfied with present circumstances and have only dismal views of the future; to miss the here-and-now-and-tomorrow because we are so trapped in the there-and-then-and-yesterday—these are some of the sins, if we may call them that, of...Lot’s wife..."

And while I don't think I'm "dissatisfied with my present circumstances", nor do I "have only a dismal view of the future", I have been yearing to go back...worried I made a mistake...needing reassurance that I didn't.
I've been looking back.

Elder Holland continues:"Faith is for the future. Faith builds on the past but never longs to stay there. Faith trusts that God has great things in store for each of us..."

I know that I still have some things to figure out.
I know I still have much to learn.
And I am aware I have a bit of a journey still ahead.

But...that's just it...it's AHEAD.

And so, that's where I'm going.
Because I can't look back anymore.
I won't look back anymore.

Familiar Silence.

Sometimes during solitude
I hear truth spoken
with clarity and freshness;
uncolored and untranslated
it speaks from within myself
in a language
original but inarticulate,
heard only with the soul,
and I realize
I brought it with me...
-Hugh B. Brown (The Eternal Quest)

I don't want to forget what I "heard" today
I heard it in the silence.

And it sounded very familiar.
...like I brought it with me.

perspective

[per-spek'tiv] n. the ability to perceive things in their actual interrelations or comparitive importance; subjective evaluation of relative significance; the relationship of aspects of a subject to each other and to a whole

No matter the exact definition you choose, the way we feel about our lives or our current circumstances are impacted, for good or bad, by our own perspective.

Sometimes I wonder about this blogworld of ours.

We take our own life experiences from our own perspective and share our thoughts and feelings...sometimes in the form of a release...sometimes in an attempt to be helpful...sometimes to get support...other times to satisfy some other need...with people who each have their own life experiences and their own perspectives.

There are so many difficult life situations. People experiencing gut-wrenching moments of time when their world seems too hard...too much to handle.

And whether it's the heart-wrenching sadness of disappointment or intense pain of loss or the overwhelming burden of unmet expectations, each experience is being approached with a unique perspective.

A perspective that, at times, feels foreign to me...
because of my perspective

Can the woman who lost her baby see past the tragedy to be grateful for the other three boys she gets to raise?

Can the woman struggling with infertility see past the devastation to be grateful she gets to be married to an amazing man who loves her?

Can I see past the disappointment in my own life the past 7 weeks to be grateful that I had the blessing I had while I had it?

Yes.
Because of perspective.

And what is the perspective of the heart during the wrenching is not the same as the perspective of the heart at the time of healing.

So, I find myself wondering: Which comes first?

Does the healing change the perspective?
Or does the change in perspective allow for the healing?

I guess that's a matter of perspective too.

Happy Day 'o Love (Wall Street Journal)

Okay...I just have to share one more.

My smart Economics Professor brother-in-law highlighted this gem of an article from The Wall Street Journal on his site.

Read it.

I'm one who can see the wisdom in marrying whilst "too young".
Too young to not know all the reasons not to marry.
Too young to not have yet discovered it's easier to be selfish.
Too young to not let fear get in the way.

Which, when all is said and done, is what makes you not too young.

To all of you who had the courage to make a big step "too young".
Yay you.

From the last of David Lapp's article:
"Did I get married too young? I may not have the freedom to globetrot at my own leisure or to carouse at a bar late into the night. But when I step into our 500-square-foot one-bedroom apartment, warmly lighted and smelling of fresh flowers and baked bread, I do have the freedom to kiss my beautiful wife and best friend—the woman I pledged to always love and cherish, and to raise a family with. I have no regrets."

Ah...don't you love that?
I love that.

Happy Day 'o Love (Only You)

I confess.
I can't see enough of this movie.
(I've seen it three times now.)

And I can't get enough of this song.
Right now.
The words.
The sentiment.

I love the story because it's real.
And the love is real.
And I've been happy for the reminder.

(Seriously, listen to this song and just try and not run right out and see this movie.)


My love
Your love
Has opened up a world I’ve never known
All hope
Was found
A place I never dreamed I would go
Feels like only yesterday I had locked my heart away
Safe behind a castle of stone
Sure I’d always be alone
Only you know how
To hear me through the silence
You reach a part of me that no one else can see
Forever true there’s only me and only you
Only me and you

In your face I trust
With you beside me I am standing strong
One truth
Two hearts
You took my life and made it beautiful
So you dared to let me shine
Even walk a step behind
Willingly you give yourself to me
Knowing who I was born to be
Only you know how
To hear me through the silence
You reach a part of me that no one else can see
Forever true there’s only me
And only you
Only me and you

Only you know how
To hear me through the silence
You reach a part of me that no one else can see
Forever true there’s only me
And only you
Only me and you

Don't tell me it's just a movie.
This weekend I need to believe it's real.
That it can be. Real.

Happy Day 'o Love (Buble)

It's no secret I love Valentine's Day.
I always have.
(and I'm determined to love it this year too. Determined.)

And it's also no secret I'm a Buble-fan. His new album isn't my absolute fave (though there are a few great songs on there).

But, this song?
Well, the video is so borderline not good enough.
But the tune?
Love it.

However, when I first heard it, I kind of was in a place where I kind of thought maybe I HAD "met him yet". And so, I just didn't enjoy it...

as much as I'm trying to enjoy it now.



Happy Day 'o Love to YOU...
But especially to my "just haven't met you yet"...just in case I haven't.

Happy Birthday, Spirit

It's no secret that I was anxious about my birthday.
Part of my problem is that I don't often let myself have high expectations but once I get them...well...that's a problem.

I knew if I woke up expecting the birthday I wanted to have...or thought I was going to have a couple of months ago...the day would be full of disappointment.

And so, several days prior to my birthday, I made a decision.
I remembered the powerful message of a talk I had heard and a process I had experienced.
And I decided my birthday was going to be all about what my SPIRIT...the part of me that is eternal...the part of me who knows who she is all the time...the part of me who is most connected to God...well, I decided to do what SHE wanted to do.

Turns out...

My spirit wanted to get up early.
My spirit wanted to get on my treadmill.
She wanted to run faster (but thankfully not longer...I knew I liked her) than I've been running.
She didn't want to watch the news or listen to talk radio while I got ready for the day (THAT was interesting).
She wanted a scrambled egg for breakfast.
With broccoli.

But, my favorite part is where she wanted to go.

I love that she wanted to drive to Manti and spend the day in the temple.
Just me and her...and Him.
And that's exactly what we did.
And we stayed there, disconnected from the world, for a really long time.

And that's exactly what I needed.
And it was perfect.

It. was. perfect.

And while the flowers were a nice surprise
And the mexican dinner with friends was a great compliment
And the IronGirl interval training dvd and the Jane Austen treasury and the old-fashioned cake plate I've wanted since November and the secret emails and packages and texts from my family and the ridiculous number of facebook greetings and the iTunes gifts and the GNO FHE the night before were all gifts my little heart needed...

Tuesday was exactly what I needed.
He knew that...and so did my spirit.

And I think I might let her be in charge of my birthday more often.

xoxo

Someone sent this to me today.
(that's chapstick on that arrow. cute idea, eh?)

And I couldn't agree more.

I love my google reader 3

And you need to read this post from my brother before my birthday update.

I loved it. so. much.

(...and is it just me or is it even sweeter when things like this are said from a man's point of view?)

Look what just came in!

I'm sorry...but I'm kind of excited about this one.

Oh, and the birthday yesterday was nearly perfect.
Update later.

(and yes, those are birthday flowers in the background.)

My February miracle

Tuesday night when I sat in the chair on the stand, I looked out at the chapel full of girls. Then I closed my eyes as the opening hymn started.

It was the first chance I'd had all day to stop and breathe.
I felt entirely too empty to do anything on my own.

"Heavenly Father," I said.
"Please use me tonight. Let me know I'm right where I'm supposed to be."

And then...
For an hour, I had no thoughts but the thoughts He wanted me to have.
I felt free.
I felt strong.
I felt loved.

I said things I couldn't have said even six weeks ago.
Not profound things...but truths in ways I couldn't have said them...
because I didn't know.
Not in that way anyway.

And I knew I was right where I was supposed to be.

It was a Tender Mercy to the umpteenth degree.
And I knew what a miracle it was.

I knew it.

And then this morning, when I prayed, I asked Him to help me process one more thing. And then, right before I left the office, someone who maybe at one time might have walked me through a period in my life when I needed some help, walked into my office, completely unannounced and unscheduled, and said, "Talk to me."

And I did.
And we did.

And, it was another Tender Mercy to the 2nd umpteenth degree.
And a miracle.

And while I think I'm still going to have a low-key day next week (maybe evidence that I'm growing up a little?), I know there's much to celebrate.

And I'm feeling so very grateful.

God really does give us just what we need
right when we need it.
And I can say He's been doing that every day for the past year.

I'm so okay.

And that's what we call a February miracle.
MY February miracle.

(I am so tired...long week...but in many ways and for many reasons, I'm grateful to be getting back to this. The timing is good...and "hope" means something a little different to me now.)

Happy February.
xoxo

My February dilemma

It started out as just a day thing.
But, as I got older, I realized it was more fun to go for a week.
Then I realized it was easily a 2-week commitment on my part whether I wanted it or not (ahem).
And then last year, I had to acknowedge it had turned into a month-long experience.

But, darn.
Things feel different this year.

Maybe it's because I'm turning 38.
Maybe it's because I've been feeling the need to grow up a little.
Maybe it's because I've had so many full experiences, I'm feeling satisfied.
Maybe it's because I'm not nearly as needy as I used to be (ahem.)

Maybe...but I know that's not really it.

Someone asked me last week what I wanted for my birthday and though I didn't say it aloud, I knew exactly what I wanted.

I don't mean to...
and I know I shouldn't...
and I know I'm the one that changed things...
but...
I remember in December when I let myself think just a little bit about my upcoming birthday and I had this sense that it had the potential to be the best one yet (which is saying A LOT because I've had some stellar birthdays.).
And what I thought and who I thought I'd be with?
THAT is what I want for my birthday.

But, I changed things.
And the timing of what I did stinks...
(who does that before New Year's Eve and birthdays and Valentine's Day?
Me. That's who.)

And now I'm left with the pieces to sort out.
And I'm supposed to have a birthday in the midst of it?
Really?

I guess I'm just wishing there was a way the universe could pretend like I didn't do anything. That nothing's different...just for a day...
on February 9th.
(oh, okay...and maybe since Valentine's Day is practically the same time as my birthday, let's just pretend for a few more days after too. Then on Feb. 15th we can go back to just as things are right now. Promise.) because for the first time in my life, I'm not really in the mood to celebrate and get all the attention.

Because I really just want to get attention from one.

Wow...is that pathetic? Am I so sad? Am I such a girl?

So, forgive me if I don't feel like planning any celebrations right now.
And understand if I don't want to thoroughly enjoy all sorts of evil desserts for a full month.

Don't misunderstand.
I'm grateful for this life of mine in so many ways.
I just would be more grateful to not have to face a very different birthday than the one I let myself think I was going to have...just a month or so ago.
It's just a little too soon.

Yeah...
probably a little pathetic...
I'm in a tich of a funk.

And thus, the February dilemma.
My February dilemma.

(PS We've got our first event this weekend and there is so much to do, I think I can't breathe...so unless something hilarious and worthy of a post happens, my focus will be that event...oh and keeping at this running thing...which I will continue to post peer-pressured updates on facebook. Be. Back. Soon.)

(PSS I'll snap out of this birthday dilemma funk. I know I will. I'm not going to ruin 37 previous years of great tradition. No way. No how.)