Laugh Along the Way

       After having our first two girls I was convinced, when we had out third child she would also be a girl . Thankfully, for the love of sanity through hormones, God blessed us with a boy .  Once again, my opportunity to say, I am so thankful He know better than me what He is doing.  Yet, even as I went into the delivery room, I had a girl's name picked out, it was Kennedy Grace. Before the year was out, Hannah had conceived and given birth to a son. She named him Samuel, explaining, "I asked God for him." 1 Samuel 1:20          I had a boy, we named him Brice, because it means "leader of men." His father bears this middle name, and it was a way to honor this amazing man, and to rest confidently through the trials of growth, in what God will do in our son's life. I bear witness to B-boy as I watch him wrestle with many emotions, and struggle at school, and still, this young leader, has his heartbeat set to his Father. I see his compassion for y

I was pulled over today.  I was driving, admittedly distracted, thinking about what had just happened at the store, and composing my "this is not right" email.  I came down the hill, I saw the car sitting there, then watched him turn around, wondered, then assuming he was there for me.  So, I switched lanes, so did he, and then those red a blue lights of shame begin to spin. I came to an easy stop, because, of course, I was doing the speed limit now anyways.  I pull out my wallet, see my (expired) insurance card, and just sigh.  Oh well. So, this officer collects my information, thankfully trusts I really do have insurance (I DO), and eventually comes back with my ticket.  As I sat there, I stewed, and these negative emotions just swirl, and I am floored that he pulled me over, I mean really, me...  I don't speed, I don't, if he only knew.  If he had just been at the last place, if he had known what my weekend had included, if he knew I was a good person just doing

I have said many times, “ My husband married a gypsy.”   I see this as a great thing, most of the time.  Let me tell you   “ being a gypsy”  paints a beautiful story, filled with twists and turns.  I see it through this lens of beauty and excitement, and FULL OF COLOR. Wide Roots: I have been blessed to live in 5 different states around the continental US.  I attended 8 different schools from Kindergarten to High School. I remember at least 10 different homes, and when my parents said “we’re moving”, it usually meant across the country, not just to a new neighborhood. When we moved from Texas to New York I was thankful to move into an apartment complex, and I went up to the manager of the property, asked her where some kids my age lived, and, to my surprise, she actually told me.  So, I took my tiny tan self, embraced the southern twang, and marched myself to this girl’s door, before I lost my Texas sized courage, and introduced myself to her.  While I don’t know what went thro

A long term dream of mine is to write a book.  It is part of why I have a blog!  I've put this off with the ideas that  1. Other people are so much better,  2. I'm too busy, maybe later, and  3. Of, course no one would read it.   In July I turned 35, and it was great!  It was nothing spectacular, but I believe in using the excuse of my birthday, anytime within the month of July, to get what I want, do what I want, o go where I want.  (All within moderation f our family, budget, time, etc.)  What it meat this year was getting a trainer and from my 90 days with him: I have learned to work out (and to love it).  I have learned to enjoy running, (or real though, walking at a weird and awkward pace), I have re-found my desire to read, and I am expanding my reading list, even more, I remembered my desire to write! Fast forward to February, two dear friends introduced me to The IF Gathering  and this led me to Jen Hatmaker, Anne Lamott, Angie Smith, and quickly to Jamie Ivey.