I stayed in bed on Christmas morning.  Like, for a long time stayed in bed; silent tears falling into my pillow.  Like maybe if I stayed there and avoided the presents and the kitchen to be cleaned, breakfast to be made that maybe, JUST MAYBE, I could hold on to my last Christmas with my dad a little longer.  That MAYBE THAT would be the one that would stay ingrained in my memories… but each silent tear left a little more salt on my face burning a little deeper the pain of my first Christmas without my Dad… EVER.

We sat in church on Saturday night…. The whole time (through a sermon about anxiety!!) I kept thinking “the last time I was here; my dad was here too…”  But he wasn’t.  I stood there singing such praises to my God, the one who really has him (and me too, I guess), and the bottomless pain feeling so profoundly deep was covered by this multitude of peace.  My dad- singing divine praises with the heavenly hosts at the celebration of the coming of our King…and I just sat there with that…and the silent tears.

After the service, a very loved and sweet, sweet friend so brutally but ever so gracefully warned me, “tomorrow morning is going to be hard…”  I followed that conversation with others asking how I was doing; “Is that your dad’s ring”  (because I’m wearing it like a new appendage taking his eternal love with me wherever I go…) And they were sweet conversations.  Ones that I was actually enjoying.  I’ve been avoiding everyone.  LITERALLY everyone.  I’ll be honest that I’ve seen names on my phone and very guiltlessly ignored such kindness and concern because I just don’t want to face the discussions that “it’s going to be okay” and “I’m praying for you” and “I hear you.”  I’m held in such special places by so many people.  Something that just like my dad, I’m humbled and moved even sitting here thinking about…

So on Christmas morning, as I laid in my salty puddle, scrolling through my phone (because what else am I going to do on the hundredth hour of my grief, I looked through my ignorance to your love.

I laid BEHOLDING the strength that so many are giving me to rise.  And by rise, I mean literally rise.  Rising to a kitchen that my husband already cleaned, to a letter that though wasn’t from my dad, was still on the tree, to a family who has embraced me in my little land of messy and plenty knolls of illness, and lastly but most importantly, a mom who needs me as much as I need her.

And so I replayed some of these precious moments from the days before in this season of healing, beholding the goodness that’s bringing me through this…

my super sweet husband loving on my goddaughter.  btw- mistletoeing makes every.thing. better!

and puppy snuggles…

and card games with these kiddies that are patching the little infertile tears in my heart.

p.s. rice crispy treats make everything a little sweeter.

and just so you know, Mama M.E. is still smiling…

and even laughing…

Christmas mornings feel better when you hear the laughs of children…

and just a little word to the WISE (wait for the pun…) I have a husband who chose to have his wisdom teeth (there it is) removed two days before Christmas therefore enjoying a puréed cinnamon roll… don’t let the men do that.  Just… DON’T. 

I’m BEHOLDING Christmas eve’s that still have wine, and football, and little boys fighting over iPads.

and especially beholding Christmas Eve’s where all actually does happen to be calm and bright.

October 28.  256 days.  Persistence.  Perseverance.

I met Trey wearing sweats and my glasses.  Friends, I don’t know what it’s like to be speechless; to not have words… or to not need words.  But I met Trey, and Lord knows, I did NOT need words (that’s the joke- that my quiet and loving fiancé would NOT stop talking that night we met.  Literally, I got in two words, “see ya!”).  But in the 256 that have since followed, God’s given me two much better ones through him: persistence and perseverance.  I’ve had this whole new lesson on persistence.  This whole new “thanks” for perseverance.  This whole new “my life wouldn’t be here” if it weren’t for HIS persistence and perseverance.  And God said somewhere in those hard and lonely preceding days, “I will fight for your heart, child!”  So Trey did.

We’re at my family reunion in Texas right now.  A cousin asked me last night, “So did you know right away?!”  I go, “NO! I tried to break up with him 3 times!!!!” 

Persistence.  Perseverance.  It’s a beautiful thing people.  And we’re freakin’ owning it these days.

November 11.  241 days.  Scars & Survival.

Exactly fifteen days after meeting the man that was already fighting for me, I fell on my face.  I fell hard.  Not like the time I fell uphill on grass, or at the metro on our first REAL date… I fell on my face the kind of fall that had family and friends holding onto me, carrying me, breathing for me in those 37 days that followed.

These have been my words since, as I tell the survival story to others who suffer through their own anxiety and depression.  “I have two scars: one that will forever remind me that I am a survivor, and another that tells me every day is a battle that can be won through perseverance and persistence.  We are strong.  We are more than.  We are His.”

Trey prayed for me from afar.  He sent me texts that were interceded by my sister and friends.  “Thinking of you… praying for you… I’m here for you…” and even “when can I see you again?”  And sometimes, I still don’t know why he loves me so, but oh how he carries me, and He carries us…

January 26. 165 days. THIS LOVE.

I remember telling Trey he was crazy to want to be with me–but oh how he fought for me!  So on the day that I realized this was the love I’d been praying for, I surrendered….and then told him he had 101 days to buy me “one of these four rings.”  (and then like all pinterest loving un-flitered ladies would, I pulled out my “rings I want from Mr. The One” board…what can I say, I’m a planner).  It took him 70.

That night, the one when I fell on my face.  I was playing Taylor Swift.  That girl- I hate her and I love her.  And this song was on repeat as tears streamed down my face.  I get it when it’s all for me and for us, you might not.  But that night, surrendering to the ideal of other 28 year old almost spinsters… God fought for me (but more on that in my book)…and the song, oh how it just means so much more now…

“Clear blue water, high tide came and brought you in and I could go on and on, on and on, and I will.  Skies grew darker, currents swept you out again, and you were just gone and gone, gone and gone…In silent screams, in wildest dreams, I never dreamed of this…This love is alive back from the dead.  These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to me…and this love came back to me.”

He brought it back to me.  And so we love this love, our love.

April 7.  95 days.  Will you?  and Yes.

At some point my speechlessness ended and as he tells the story, “Even when I’m proposing she interrupts me…”  But after I finished my “Now?! You’re doing it NOW?!!!!” he asked me, “Will you marry me?” I said yes.  And in these days that follow, I’m understanding more the commitment in my yes, that has me living a partnership and unity I don’t think I’ll ever fully comprehend.  My yes to fall more in love with him everyday.  Like today- as he sets up the ironing board to iron his own shorts (completely unprompted so that I can finish writing.  Or yesterday, because he walks with my dad holding his hand, helping him off the curb…wait.  and even yes to the choice to fall more in love with him every day… like right now as he says, “Sweetie, I set up the ironing board, if you finish that while I’m in the shower…”

This “yes,” and the “will you?” choice, I’ll choose it forever with him.

April 28.  73 days.  Home.

When people found out we were buying a house I think they thought we were crazy.  Note: if that’s when they first started asking about our “craze” there was probably something more wrong with them.  I mean seriously, we were engaged 161 days after meeting each other.  But we wanted to build our home.  And so for 73 days, we have been.  It’s hard though; the “put the toilet seat down” (which he reminds me of)..or the “Trey?! This is the whites only basket…” and there are some “we’ll call them quarrels” type of fights.  And questions.  But they bring us closer.  every.  single.  time.

I heard long ago, “home isn’t a place, people are.”  At some point, sitting on the couch we bought together, looking at this man that allowed me to rip out a closet to install my very own shoe closet I realized, I’d been homesick for him my entire life.

May 16.  55 days.  Master.

I’m far from a Master… but I do have my Masters.  And that journey has taken me along a path that was wild and crazy and had me finding out the best parts of me and the worst parts of me.  So as I walked across the stage hearing my name and the people who were with me through it all, I got the closest glimpse of what it might be like to be a master.  Because shoot.  I mastered that shit.  Did you know that master *in verb form* means to overcome.  Master.

July 11.  Ironing.

He just got out of the shower…looked at the shorts, looked at me, looked at the shorts, looked at me and so I said, “I love you.”  We’re ironing a lot in these days.  Ironing the wrinkles out as we make our way to the smooth parts that will unite us as one.  126 days before then though…

So as he says, “I can’t wear my grey shorts because they’re wrinkled…” He irons.  (Little does he know I’m “ironing” too… and signing off for now saying, “I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”

His reply, “Good because I want to go get you starbucks.”

God- thank You for him.

—

And there’s just so much more– I could go on and on and on… but these days are holding  me and I can’t go on without writing just a little, just a little bit to remember this contentment.  This grip that I finally hold firmly to in our days.  The ones that are painting us something almost perfect.

Work is hard.  It’s deep and overwhelming and fulfilling and sad and exciting and so much more that I don’t even know where to start.  And so I place one hand on my beating heart and beg it to slow down.  I move my fingers over my eyes that are finally crying tears as I deal with a life I didn’t see coming, as I fight the good kinds of fear that my year of adventure in the chance and unknowns is bringing.  Because I’ve wanted this and didn’t know just how badly I did.  And somehow God’s answers though true and right, they’re not at all what I expected.  And the goosebumps that still linger after a day full of vulnerability and fear give me peace and surprisingly, more trust.  The innocent voice that spoke deeply to my devoted heart, “Miss Paullin, Miss Paullin,” gives me assurance.  And the mentors that call me their “new favorite person” give me inspiration.  The plane tickets that read my name and his, give me excitement…and the dates on the calendar that bring me to my girls are giving me support even before I am able to feel their arms holding me…

there are new things to get used to:

• voices that say, “Hi, Miss Paullin…”
• wearing heels for 7.5+ hours because the other voices will indeed say, “Did you see Miss Paullin’s shoes today?!”
• little hands begging to hold mine
• trusting eyes looking for love that I pray I’m somewhat good enough to give
• Making lunch the night before
• Picking out which shoes to wear…the night before.
• Blow drying my hair… the night before.
• kissing him…the night before….and maybe also the night after.
• fear that doesn’t chase me away
• fear that slows me down
• fear that teaches me to breathe
• fear that insists on carrying me home…

…and wasn’t there something in the mid-nineties about no fear?

but I’m sort of liking it…I like those voices in the lunchroom that are so loud I can’t hear myself think.  And I like that I heard about my shoes 4 times today..and I liked those little hands that had me tying shoes, and eyes that lit up when they heard me speak a 6 year old equivalent of “foreign language.”  And unfortunately, I’m so disgusted and embarrassed to say that I really did like my lunch of doritos and diet coke.  I sort of liked the fact that I ran late, because the shoes that got 4 compliments were exactly the right ones.  and I like that the kiss tonight was even better because there actually wasn’t one last night.

And the fear, it says, “Nic, just wait here.  Stop being the you that keeps you back there and be the you that moves you over here…breathe through that dream that’s just made you numb…and wait. just wait; I’ll carry you home.”

You know, I have this thing for middle school, pre-pubescent kids (please read that without the child-molestor insinuation I’m sure it inferred…).  But I do, this thing, this love… this passion.  And I find that the drive comes from an opportunity that is so great, the one that says, “Hey, let me let God breathe hope and inspiration into your soul..” and so I do, in the process praying with everything that I am, that these kids would find their identities with confidence and self-love, security, and a whole latta hope.

Because there needs to be more hope in every single second of every single day, to change for the better and for the now.

If you would prepare your heart, and stretch out your hands toward Him…then surely you could lift up your face, yes, you could be steadfast, and not fear, because you would forget your misery and remember it as waters that have passed away.  And your life would be brighter than noonday…and you would be secure because there is hope… (excerpts from Job 11, NKJV)

and I find love in this sweet deliverance, my life in His hands, the ones that shaped me and formed me in the most fearful and wonderful way… and this is just me, secured with hope.

You all have found me and have known me in similar ways through millions of words, thousands of smiles, hundreds of tears, and through a similar hope…but sometimes I get fearful that the writing has defined me..were there really thousands of smiles, or were there more tears?  Have I been too honest, or was I not honest enough?  These words that span across many, many pages, have they given enough of His love… not just for me, but more importantly for you..?  Wait- did I speak enough about Him?  Or too much about me??

I don’t want to be defined by my writing.  I want to be defined by my hope in Him through perseverance to victory.  I want to be recognized because I write from the heart to Him.  And yeah, it’s raw, and in the moment, sometimes dark.  But there are other times when it’s so bright.  And I’d rather be defined by that, because that’s where the hope has taken me.

So if you were to define me, I’d rather be embraced as His and not so much as a writer… I’d rather be identified as a real and genuine person that still sings a little badass every now and then because of all the spunk He gives me.  Because that’s what Hope has already defined in me: Confidence that says, look at me, I’m His and no one else’s.  And self-love that says, “you have great legs,” (actually that was someone else, but I like it, so it’s mine now).  And security, oh, it’s reassuring me time and time again that I’m in the most perfect place…

This hope is bringing me all sorts of excitement and even a few butterflies.

—

I’m bored right now.  Like, out of my mind bored.  The last few weeks with Pam gone was killing me… and my sound board that makes me laugh when I really want to laugh was gone too, and life was so colorless.  But God spoke to me through hours of prayer over them and their ministry.  He spoke about beautiful friendships and even the not so beautiful ones, ones that I question as I dig deep for tiny traces of hope that I trust are still there.  He reminded me that blessings come in the most opportune times, but also leave in the most inopportune times.  Hope is saying, “Nic, that’s okay.  You’re still mine.”

And I think that Hope has played the strongest role in my life as it anchors my soul– maybe Hope has taken over, in it’s own way allowing the time to pass so much faster as it brings me one step closer to this greatness I am so impatient to relive.

Today my life started over again in my morning breath that couldn’t wait for the panting that would so familiarly bring my feet to pavement.  And tomorrow it will start over again as I get excited for a good kiss.  And then on Wednesday, I might just let Hope give me another new beginning as I smile over life that’s just so fulfilling in every moment.

There’s a day though that Hope can’t bring soon enough.  And these every days that sometimes carry boredom in between irreprehensible happies are working their way to another day when my life will be redefined as I get to humbly relive purpose and greatness that aren’t mine, but His…and my life will RUN into it hardly looking back as Hope moves me faster than I can even fathom!  

No, for realsies, it’s about to start all over again.  28 days people!!  And then define me by my love for others.  Define me by my heart that cries with love and passion for my students to know their worth and value, to meet this hope so great…. 28 days to 800 little giggles and tiny hands that will run for me to hold with trust.  28 days to an office that I can call my own as words are spoken inside 4 walls as Hope listens…

Then, you can define me as Hope lifts me to the Love on top.  Oh wait, I already did….

—

I won Sonic. Like legit, earned it.  Best said by cousin Laura: “How do you recover from a half marathon? Wrap a foam cup of ice around your bum knee, order a master blast, tater-tots and cheese poppers from Sonic.”

My body is sore.  Last night, I slept for 13.1 hours, and I have blisters where no woman should have blisters.  My legs are tired.  My knee has this weird, obnoxious, clicking that is more apparent with each step I take today… (which really is only to go to the kitchen for more water, to the bathroom to dispose of said water, and to bed where I lay as I write to you…and for my professors as life just goes on.  But the best pain– my heart, as it is bursting through the seams at this beautiful life.  And tomorrow, I will register for the Richmond Marathon, 26.2 miles.  Because I. can. do. it.  for me, because of Him.

And I think we need to do more things for ourselves.  Not in a selfish or self gaining way, but in a way that really, TRULY allows us to love the temple the houses His Spirit.  The temple that houses His Spirit in ME, is happy.  Like really, REALLY happy.  Not as a tall, skinny, blonde, but as a short, “thick,” brunette (with blond-ish highlights), sausage fingers and a double chin, as this beautiful woman (His masterpiece) with a genuine smile that understands what it means to house Him.  I’m me, the best me I could be, the me He created and I’m more content with that than I’ve ever been.  Because without Him in me, these pains that keep me smiling on this snowy, spring morning, would mean nothing.

Friends, yesterday, I ran a half-marathon.  Like for real.  I. ran. 13.1. miles.  and wait for it– I beat my 2011 half marathon time by 40 minutes.  40 minutes.  

And the “too many to count” likes on Facebook only make me smile even bigger.  Like, even my cheeks are hurting… and I don’t mean just my glutes.. your support has my face hurting.. that’s why I say, my heart’s hurting too.  Because this Love is overwhelming me, I swear my heart, it just might burst.  Oh and it hurts so good, so damn good.

This smile, oh just look at it and tell me you see Him in me..because I feel him radiating in this big and crazy and immeasurable way, and I just want you to know!  I’m wanting to be so beautiful, just like Him…  so beautiful.

He’s moving inside of others to Love me… I’m telling you– I can’t, I just– THIS LOVE that I’m so undeserving of, grace so good, love so big…I have a King who is moving inside of me– lifting me to a higher place, putting a smile on this face.. And I smile because I couldn’t do it without Him giving me them:

and a sister that rubbed my back when I couldn’t sleep because of nerves.  a sister who stood in the hotel hallway to pray over me as mom held our hands… that was a special moment, us 3.  she lays on the beach with me and gives up a nap to hear my jabber as together we giggle about boys, cry over losses, smile over dreams… she’s been by my side for 27 years, and my smile is more real because of how He uses her in my life.

and these girls.  They make me laugh the kind of laugh that says I should have a six pack by now.   But instead there’s a content and beautiful curve there that allows realness to live beyond standards.  Conversations that we will all regret having with our mothers, but in the end, only brought us closer…and a new way to look at horses, elevators…and I guess walk in closets too.  And I smile, because they’re building their legacies into each one of us.  Together we learn how to be them.  And He lives on.  Here–through these smiles.

Because our mothers teach us a special kind of passion.  A way to love and be loved, Loved.  They are our biggest fans, the ones that cheer us on to keep us going whether we hit a wall and want to stop, or whether we are running a race that’s already been won…amidst a race that is being won.  They’re the best part of this life…

and she’s next.

—

The race was fast.  Not just because I broke my PR (personal record) by 40 minutes (that wasn’t it), but because I was reminded how fast (almost too fast) life can move.  This weekend that had me treasuring every second of togetherness, every gift of Love, it was coming to an end.  Him working in us, those small significant moments, they go by too fast when they’re moving us so big.  And I had no choice but to count each blessing right there in every stride–too many to count, so many not to; reminded that I’m alive in Him, moving because of Him (and never wanting to stop).

That’s the thing about running: your greatest runs are rarely measured by racing success.  They are moments in time when running allows you to see how wonderful your life is.

–Kara Goucher

and let me tell you, it’s something incredibly wonderful. Something incredibly real and precious.  Something beautiful.  just like me, His.

ps. someone stop me next time I try and wear a headpiece.  please.

and so I asked him, “what’s God been saying to you lately?”  I do that, anymore I don’t think he’s surprised when I do.  Not surprised, just real.  And he said “love.”  and I was moved and inspired, proud, and he’s right.  God’s speaking it to me too.  And I’m finding it deep within the souls of whom I love….this beauty, oh the immeasurable greatness of His Love in each of us……..

—

I’m in the middle of a “seven cities in seven weeks” journey…oh, and I’m in grad school.  and somehow it all seems crazy and stupid and too much soooo much planned, but it’s me.  And it’s starting to become more and more of my contentment, a rather special kind of fulfillment.  A real chance to take in the love, to do all the love, to be a really unique kind of Love…

City 1: Mercersburg, PA

….and these folks.

It’s been a while since I threw my sleeping bag on a bunk, a while since I ate cafeteria food, and too long since 2am talks about life and God and lessons and brokenness and wholeness.  It’d been too long since the hugs that spoke saying, “Your support over the last six years has meant everything to me…” Too long since prayers that worshipped a God with my kids.  Friends, they’re still mine.  

I received the most awesome compliment, “Nicole, I look at you and see you with them, and I KNOW you love them like they were your own..” She’s right.  I loved them before I knew them…and six years later, our last retreat together…  Loving them more than I ever thought was possible….. My pride and joy right here peeps! Can they really be seniors?  Are they really grown-ups now?  And why was I so dang lucky for God to let me love them?!  ps. six years ago I was taller then all of them!

That’s my thing in this perfection of immeasurable love: I’m noticing all sorts of things in my peeps.  There’s this beauty I’m finding within… and I’m reminded of God’s glory that shines through them.  This glimpse of perfect Love that we are so not worthy of but get because of Him.  And it’s unreal.  I never thought it was possible…that. much. LOVE.  But He’s showing me this one thing, the beauty of His children….

I look at these kids and I can’t help but see this genuine and pure beauty that runs deeper than the everyday life of golf, and boy scouts, and college planning, and etsy work.  It’s like God has opened my eyes to bigger things that matter…they matter, so. much. more.

Those smiles.  It’s painful in the best sort of way that has me crying mercy, MERCY, we are Yours…

#ohilovethemso

City 2: Avis, PA

“Let Your glory fall as you respond to us…Spirit rain, flood into our thirsty hearts again….”

And here we are.  Speak to us that fierce and victorious glory, Your immeasurable Love.

This weekend won us well…me at least...  “Christ is revealed.”

It was easy.  It was us together with them.  It was the time away.  and it had me begging for more.  This break in my own everyday life to be with him and with them and in the relationships that have truly been life changing.  Waiting upon the Lord for a time to breathe through the school moments that overlapped with my “them” moments.  But in the silence, a contentment that was all I needed…an assurance that my life is exactly how it should be.  A happiness that I don’t want rattled, just shared.

Starting from scratch, he made the entire human race and made the earth hospitable, with plenty of time and space for living so we could seek after God, and not just grope around in the dark but actually find him. He doesn’t play hide-and-seek with us. He’s not remote; he’s near. We live and move in him, can’t get away from him!

 

-Acts 17:28 (The Message)

And He came.  We talked and I listened and once again saw a beauty that I’m just so unworthy to know.  To see their family intimately.  To know them so deeply. To hold a precious child tightly with a buried head in the fold where neck meets collar bone.  To play legos while wearing heels….To laugh until the tears crept up in all the immeasurable Love that’s been gifted.

We played with nerf guns and wiped boogers and drank wine and gross beer and heard wisdom from a great marriage and stories from devoted friends.  Somewhere around the Mario-kart that I just could not master, we reminisced. We worshipped.  We laughed, oh the laughter.  It wins me over.  They win me over with that immeasurable love that radiates like some sort of bright Glory drawing me further in…

#ohtoknowthatlove

“Eyes be opened, Christ is revealed…”

I can’t stop smiling.  I’m seeing, finding Him more through these intimate connections I have with others…re-realizing that nothing, absolutely nothing came into being without Him.  And here He is blessing us through the exhilaration of being with one another.  Here He is amongst those life changing relationships that are defining me…speaking to my heart.  Here He is, sweeping over my life with them, the most beautiful extensions of His heart.  Unworthy of this beauty am I… Beholding His beauty in them and these spirits, I AM.

#oh-this-laughter-that-warms-my-heart-like-a-tight-hug-that-never-lets-go

#itsmorethangood

I’m lost in the most passionate execution of worship as I adore who He is, how He loves me, and most importantly, how He’s given me so much love for these people in my life.  He’s here, revealed in this immeasurable love, showing me not just how to love, but who to love…

and life is just oh so Him in us.  He is near; Him and that immeasurable Love.

This post is that post- the one that looks back on the year to count blessings, recall lessons, grieve troubles, smile triumphs… the truth is that this is my life.  And at the end of the day..sorry–YEAR, it was exciting enough.  better enough.  momentous enough.  and perfect too.  Because I had one goal, one word, INVESTMENT.  and I did it.  (and while there were only two posts, there were actually 365 days of commitment…actually a little less than that, but who’s really really counting?)

To be honest those days were long at times, blurs other times, but mine all the time–a choice all the time.  When I started the year off, I was choosing to invest in God the way that he’s invested in me.  If I look at my “one word” from that angle, I failed–and I failed miserably.  and we go back to that search for more excitement, something better, something more momentous, and something more perfect….like a search for something that I’m never going to find.  but that’s how beautiful his grace is and knowing that I’ve invested in Him “enough” to recognize it.   “Flat on my face” honest moment- I didn’t invest in Him (as much as I had hoped).  Maybe that’s the reason for the long delay… but again, “flat on my face” moment forced me to look back and see where the real investment was:

“Does God delight in me?”  Who was I kidding, of course He does.  I am His creation, His masterpiece.  New question: “What is it about me that God delights in?”

The investment was in me.  Truth is– the why’s don’t matter, not to Him.  To Him, really only one thing matters.  That He does.  To me though– I needed to delight in MYself–and know how to in order to really appreciate His delightment.

I got the best BEST text from my friend a few nights ago:

Here’s the deal.  Something good is coming to you either way.  And you’re prettier than you ever were.  And about to graduate from smart school.  Best of all— <edited out because it’s too funny and personal to share>– Boom.  You are winning.

Investing = Wins

More exciting?  I got into grad school.  delightment.

A little better?  I got shoes for Christmas.  delightment.

More momentous?  I have a smaller family.  or is it to soon to post that…sorry was that “mean?” or does it make me “a smart girl?”  That’s one of those “lessons” I’ll write more about later………. conclusion: God’s will unfolding–delightment.

A lot more perfect?  than this love… nice try.  DELIGHTMENT, I love you oh so well.

I may still have a year before graduating smart school.  BUT I invested in my education (by giving a whoollllllllleeee lot of money to GMU).  And I’m smarter.  and more compassionate.  more empathetic.  and hell, the most confident I’ve ever been because of it.

And I’ve invested in my heart.  Cutting out what doesn’t belong, and allowing what does.  That’s my favorite part.

And my legs.  The thighs are like what, what, what… (you sisqo fans will appreciate that).  But I invested.  the time– it was worth setting new PRs.

And my smile.  I just really love it more.  Because it showed up a lot this year.  A LOT.  Look at my life and you in it.

and my love.  I’ve added a lot of loves this year.  and it’s made my heart bigger.  SO BIG!  Investing in these relationships that have changed my life…”Oh, I love you oh so well– like a kid loves candy or fresh snow…I could swear I hear you singing to me…”  So thank YOU… and You.

thanks for being a part of this year.  The investment in me…. one word.  no, two.  in me.  three actually.

I did it.

Peace out 2013.  You’ve been so good to me…and God’s been better. I love you oh so well…

Lost in the realness of my life now.  I met with a classmate yesterday for an “intake” interview to make an “assessment” about her current state..and mine.  Hah!  Friends, let me tell you about my current state.  The one that I fall in love with more and more each day..and somehow fall in hate with less and less.  I’m busy.  So I schedule sushi dates weeks in advance and last minute movie dates hours in advance, shoe shopping and snuggles with mom minutes in advance.  I schedule a paper between 11:30pm and 6am.  I schedule a run somewhere between sunrise and just after preschool drop off.  I schedule making my bed at 6:22 am.  I schedule hanging my clothes at 9:18am or 9:54 a.m. depending on the day.  And my nails, they’re getting painted in between these words and these thoughts because I have to multitask.  HAVE TO.  I schedule…I schedule… and I SCHEDULE.  My iCal is exploding blue.  But my life is exploding what it’s meant to.

So in meeting with Lindsay, my “presenting problem” was time management.  Ironic because it’s not much of a problem.  It’s just how I get lost in the moment with you–living as though today is the last and no, I don’t just mean that in the cliché form it may come across as.  I mean it in that, my life is too busy NOT to cherish each little moment with you.

YOU, this LIFE-this LOVE!

five mile runs around burke lake.  without them getting lost would take on a much different meaning.  yet with them, getting lost means handling the stresses joys of schedules, schedules, and more schedules.

and shoe shopping.  I think of the three pairs I bought this month, these are by far my favorite.   (The others are navy also, flats from Nine West…and since they were BOGO 50% off, I also got red ballet flats).

THE BATHROOM RENOVATION! click here to get the details and see the after pictures.. still not quite done, but somewhere between the running and shopping and traveling I managed to change that into this!

..while still finding time for this!  Marisa signed up for Amari to do the Marine Corp 1 mile fun run.  I bought her cute running clothes (of course) and the girl conquered.  Strength, Endurance, and most importantly, FAITH to run the race set before us.

 ps. it cracks me up looking at her right shoe… what kind of Auntie doesn’t fix that for her girl?!

My heart melts for this little man.  We get a little closer everyday, what between our dolphin kisses and eskimos and “targuts” runs before or after preschool.  In case you need a translation those would be Starbucks runs…yes, those are scheduled in too.

As was the Great Pumpkin 5k at Reston Towne Center with my two favorite running buddies.  Note: repeated Starbucks (forget gold member, I’m working my way up to platinum).  There’s something so therapeutic about the goofy…

and something so special and therapeutic about being with them.

And as good as it is this scheduling– you have no choice but to crash… after talking the Wendy’s drive thru guy into giving you 50+ chicken nuggets for free while barefoot because those hot cheetah print heels beat up your feet with all those mad dance moves to Daft Punk and Build Me Up Buttercup…

must mean it’s time to recharge.

and then get excited for the next adventure!

because New York City, here I come!

This is Maggie, Katie, and Molly.  I helped potty train them.  And now they’re 16, 17, and 18.  And God knows these are my girls!  Surprising Molly for her 18th birthday was by far one of the greatest surprises I’ve EVER been a part of.  Seriously.  THE GREATEST!  Gosh I love this spontaneous life I lead.

Remember that one time I met Mr. Producer Man (Alex) and flirted with him until the girls had to tell me he was gay?  oops.

Or the time that I complimented Natalie Morales’ shoes and so she took a picture with us… AND thought that I was 18 (and Molly)?  This life makes my cheeks hurt.  

And remember the time that Jill told me to make-out with boys because it’s fun?  Yes, friends, life is SO FUN!

Because she’s a part of it.  Teaching me what it’s like to be a woman, but instilling in me what it’s like to be His woman.

Hey Katie, remember when you were 3 and I was swinging you around and your elbow popped out of joint….yeah, not my best babysitting moment (remember how I was 12?)

those eyes may look tired, but they’re not closing yet.

Remember that part about winning $50 but only taking home a nickel?  I’m coming for you Atlantic City…

Dear A.C., We thought you needed to prepare for us and all our funness.  We were wrong. PS I continually think that God’s gift to me is my twenties when I get to look pretty with a drink in my hand and a high five in the other.

You ate us alive Atlantic City.

but all good fun must come to an end… momentarily at least.

I don’t know if I talk about Jenn enough but she is seriously one of the sweetest women I know… can I get an amen?  She has this gentle soul and this witty boldness that can send me into giggles and tears all at the same time.  and I just really really love her…and the fact that I got to watch her teach as part of an assignment of behavioral observation.  This is getting real friends, I’m going to be a school counselor… wow!

I want to be as peaceful as him.  When the moments get too rushed.  When I’m sleeping in naps and not talking in complete sentences.  When I’m overwhelmed, Lord just quiet my soul.

and then just let me be.

Yes!  Let me be.. with the one who makes me smile, who brings out goofy, and who houses MY COUCH!  Let me be with him, and the POPCORN, and the WINE, and the TV.  and let me breathe vicariously in an apartment that I can pseudo help decorate.

let me just love. let me just love in excitement…

with her.

and with him…

and with no make-up….

as we wait for THIS!

Let me love this girl who got me through high school.

Let me love the real example of family.

that travels halfway across the country to help hang twinkle lights…

they get the preciousness of life.  the moments we can never re-live.

they honor the legacy of life.

and giggle through the silliness of life.

They get it.  and they get us.  so much more than anyone could.

Family is friendship.  And grace.  And a love that sacrifices over and over again for…wait for it, others.

we dance.  and smile.

we stop to be together.

to laugh together.

to commune together.

and to twinkle a fabulous life together.

such a gift we have in one another.

Oh what a gift this is…this one wild and precious life I have.  I couldn’t love it more.

I said this in my Facebook status earlier this month:

It’s like Fall has swallowed up my life and spit out something spontaneously gorgeous and wonderful. #reallyhappygirl

really. happy (and somewhat tired). girl.

October, thank you.

—

I’m noticing a trend here.. it begins with “I miss blogging.. I miss my words… I miss letting my heart bleed a little of my thoughts into yours…”

A few weeks ago I was talking to my dear, dear friend about it.  She, having already completed grad school said, “I kind of wondered if you’d keep up with your blog after you started your classes…”  I mean, I would like to… I just haven’t.  It sucks, me coming here once more to say–I’m back, I’m ready to race these fingertips (with pink nail polish) all across Airy into another deep and intimate moment in which I try and share some other piece of my giant heart that is “content” with perhaps a little “discontentment.” …but here I am.

I really do love writing.  I love going back years (now) and seeing that God’s plan is continually unfolding in each step that I take from my front door to my car, outside of my car and onto campus, into other lives, and through these pieces of happiness (and not so happiness) that I am finding along the way.  And oh it’s so, so good my friends.  

and then it’s not.  Because all I want to do is sit and let these words ooze over like a freshly poured beer on a summer night…but I can’t because “I have to be up at 5:30 tomorrow for work, and then I have to finish reading those 100 pages of multicultural theories, and write that lesson plan, and run somewhere in there, and oh yeah, _____-I miss her, I need to call her,” (but do I? no, I get by just thinking of her and life goes on MY life goes on)…and the same goes for you, and you, and you, and you…

Pam told me it must be a good thing though–means life is going well.  True.  For ME.  But in there I see this selfishness that misses the considerate phone calls, the spontaneous dinners, the squeaky laughter…and I really don’t like it.

I have 24 days left of my summer break (and well deserved after all the stress and hard work that brought in an A and A-..ps grad school grading scales are a lot less lenient than they were in undergrad, A LOT…).  24 days with so much to do that catching my breath is hardly at all what I have time for.  I have to be up at 8am tomorrow and run to Lowes to get supplies for a chair project that will leave my mom smiling and my aunts impressed.  I have to send those emails that needed to be sent months ago (probably pay a bill or two too).

..And this is just my life now.  And it pleads with me to hit the pause button.  But I choose not to.

This is my life.  And instead I choose to move.  BE MOVED.

[quote]Come and move me… In a holy dance, through my circumstance…[/quote]

So I move slowly into a promise.. maybe I should call it a commitment to keep the things that I love ever so present in this life I’m lovin’… because the relationships with you feed me.  and the running next to Him exercises my soul.  and the writing supplies my thoughts.  And I just can’t NOT go through the next two years living like this.

So here- tomorrow I’m watching the Bachelorette with one of my church Momma’s.  And on Tuesday, I’m chillaxing with my favorite (don’t tell the others) cousin.  Thursday I’m meeting my sweet, sweet friend and her little guy that I intend to snuggle up with until he gets sick of me.  AND GUESS WHAT!  Friday calls for some b-day celebrating.  It’s the movement that centered around the relationships I’ve been most blessed to have.

The fulfillment of Scripture that says we NEED to be with one another.  And oh sweet darlings, I need you most!

I’m trying to really get published on blogher.com.  And, I’ve committed to being a part of the Influence Network where I can make my online “life” mean something.  I’ve meshed my quiet time with #shereadstruth (an online Bible study- first up, SOUL DETOX!).  Oh and whatever happened to my oneword365?  Something about Investment? …and didn’t I have that “Desire to Inspire?”

Move me somewhere into there.  Somewhere that my life meets busyness with gratitude and balance and stillness that creeps into the fast paced moments when I get to be with you.

Come and move me in this place where I’m rooted so deeply in You and this amazing life that I’m not nearly loving enough…help me soar.