The girls spent all summer watching Sing. There’s a line that I’m hearing as I write this, “Do you know what’s good about hitting rock bottom? There’s only one way left to go, and that’s up.” So there I went, carried by a bushel of balloons, just like in the movie Up. (Can you tell we let our kids watch a lot of TV?)

I decided to submerge myself in the head faith that had been cemented so deeply, and let my heart follow, no matter how slowly and far behind she chose to go. I decided to apply to grad school. I sat for hours talking to my dad about my longed-for-future-husband, and how finding someone as great as him was by far the hardest part of rising up. But in that talk, never did I think that nine years, I’d actually have found him.

I never imagined that together, we’d be soaking up the smells of baby spit-up, and her sweaty little palms.

Never did I think that I’d be braiding hair, over the taste of flat coke at 8 a.m. I couldn’t have imagined the smiles I’d see as my twin girls found their surprises from the back-to-school fairy. Hah. TWINS. Do you think I ever imagined that?? Never did I imagine that I’d get to have my mom by my side for all the great moments of this stage. I miss my dad terribly, but God, am I ever so thankful for your provision…

But here we are. And 35, is just the best most possible year yet.

I asked Trey on Sunday how old I was turning. I blame it on the mom brain because admitting how old I am (as evidenced by my memory loss) is too painful in the silliest of ways. That, and honestly, mom brain is something I never knew I always wanted. The loud screams, both theirs and mine, that make it so incredibly hard to focus on anything other than “Lord, I need you NOW.” The “hurry, hurry, we’re going to be late,” while juggling a pacifier, a water bottle, a pull-up, and a cheese stick while buckling two kids into the car seats– all things that also contribute to said mom brain daily. The “stop pulling her hair,” said with a baby on a boob while trying to break up a toddler catfight…yes, still possibly the best year yet.

It’s the year my dad rejoined our family in the form of our Robbie. The year the girls started dance. The year they started preschool. I couldn’t have asked for a better present either than the deafening silence in our home…once again contributing to my mom brain as I ask myself, “What do I do now…” to which I just looked at the clock and said to Trey… “oh no, I forgot about Robbie!”

My father-in-law texted me birthday wishes today, to which I responded, “The best gift, by far, is the quiet home.” My sister-in-law and nephew called not long after, and the first thing she asked was how my emotions were handling today. It’s funny because most of my other friends have texted to check how Trey was doing. To be honest, there were almost no fallen tears… I’ll let you guess whose tears were the ones to fall.

For me, goodness gracious of course I had tears in my eyes. How, oh how, oh how did we arrive here? Those balloons haven’t stopped floating since the moment the girls were born. I joked at the silence, but in those quiet moments (after I remembered Robbie and started to feed her), I smiled pride. The same pride, I remember my dad smiling upon me, as he watched me rise back up. Because this is their time to rise. And oh my Lord, don’t they look so good doing it…

beholding these blessings and life and redemption and these moments that are fleeting so quickly.

Like…these words resounded as my morning breath teeth radiated that plaquey, not brushed yet, white, and I just danced all over this:

Look at you now, look at you now, look at you go out to the stars…

Oh that first breath of this morning felt so good… so good that I kicked off my covers and started it with a shot of tequila.  Yes.  at 9:09 in the morning.  By myself.  Beware my friends that have stuck with me and know the deep dark secrets of that day…. you know me and my symbolic rituals- don’t worry this won’t happen every year…

Don’t judge.  Look… look at me now.

Exactly one year ago today, I was laying nearly passed out in my shower (a most humiliating look I’m sure).  Exactly one year ago today, I’m pretty sure I drank AT LEAST 700mL of Cuervo Gold (that’s tequila… that’s a lot of tequila…and it wasn’t even good tequila).

if you don’t believe me, here’s the bottle–and it’s the closest thing to proof I feel like I should include some pun about tequila and it’s 40% “proof..” but…that’s all you get..literally, I’ve got nothing…

—

And there I laid, one year ago today, as I heard the voice of my life changer calling my name, “Nicole…?” And wrapped in a towel he carried me to my bed where I cried some nasty smelling vomit breath tears over my life- the life I left behind and the life that I was yet to know.  Let me tell you something friends, those tears were some of the best I’ve ever cried, and Lord knows I’ve cried a lot, right, Jus? 

In those moments, (at least the ones I can remember), I had my wake up call–the one that was calling with this life.  I’m so glad I answered to hear the slow talking, in His timing, voice on the other end…

“Hello, You.  Let me show you something…”

Here’s my smile (which has since been smiled a million times over again!) all because of You.

Here’s me, me.  So beautiful and Yours.

and also sassy…

Here’s three of my “carry me through” loves.  Your Spirit always moving so strongly through them into me–giving me purpose, helping me know the most perfect kind of love…

courtesy of beholding you photography (raw and unedited)

Oh my life and every bit of you in it, every bit of Him…I absolutely love, deeper than your hearts might know.  With this big heart screaming, just hear me already, and LOVE SO DEEPLY– into the stars, into the goodness of redemption, the goodness of “intoxicating” richness, a life that feels rather invigorating…the bumps are worth it, so so worth it.  And here we are…

Wanna feel it, wanna feel it too…?

Clink your glass with me in this celebratory, “Hells-to-the-yes!”

Lift up your hearts…

We’re here, going out to the stars.

—

shout out time: I have two of the most amazing confidant type-ish loves that I know as beautiful friends…Jenn *you make me laugh the gut kinds, when your belly aches and you can’t help but lose yourself in the company of greatness.  and Jus *because you love just like I do.  Thanks for spending tonight with me making me love life so much more because you’re in it.

I’ve been saying for a long time that I’m over my quarter-life crisis…and then an extra piece of the puzzle manages to find it’s way into another opening that just needed to be closed.

Some of those pieces, most recently have been my ministry.  No.  those puzzle pieces, they’ve been redemption.  I’ll write more about my mission trip later, right now though, I can only share this part.

I am not pure.

And you probably had that figured out after I spent last summer with the darkest man I’ve ever known.  There’s a quote by Mary Oliver, MY FAVORITE:

Someone once gave me a box full of darkness.  It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.

And like I said last night, the best part of my 2012.

I keep going back to that day, that day that still has parts just one part of me smiling… I was sitting on the couch (with what he so kindly avoided to tell me until he left, tequila barf breath).  And in his Lloyd Christmas voice he said, “How ‘bout a hug….” Where then I so appropriately responded, “I hate good-byes.”

It wasn’t good-bye though.  Because for the last ten months I have racked my brain wondering why we couldn’t have our shit together enough just to be together.  And I questioned this love that so quickly developed.  The love that I choose to define so differently than he.  The love that’s sacrificial and that deep in my heart I knew he felt for me.  Why else would things end when they did?  Yet, there we were.

And oh, how I’ve come a long way since.  I’ve found the sweetest most beautiful redemption that knows the difference between real love and obligatory love.  I choose real.  I choose pure.  I choose everything in between for Him.

—

I guess maybe I can talk about the mission trip more than I intended to.  My job was to give the evening devotionals.  The ones that focused on relationships forcing me to look at my past that took me there…  The ones that made me focus on my own with the Lord (the second to last puzzle piece, for real…and it fit, LIKE A GLOVE).  So then came purity, and the release in knowing that my heart is what makes me pure.  And there I was.  Realizing that his darkness is what had made me impure…but to be with a community of believers that rise you up to the break of redemption, the place where you meet beauty, the place where you meet His definition of Love.

Meet purity.  Meet the laughter.  Meet the sunset—you’ve made it.

And then you haven’t.  That’s the thing about purity, it’s worth the fight, if only you’re strong enough to win it.

Make this your common practice: Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you can live together whole and healed. The prayer of a person living right with God is something powerful to be reckoned with.

(James 5:16-18, The Message)

I confess: I got a text…from him, reminding me of the fun that isn’t so light hearted, but as I’m finding in this great place I’m in was more like life-“hard”ed.  And somehow the purity went out the window, and his darkness had a way of revealing the worst part of me.  And Darkness found a way to separate me from those beautiful colors of redemption…I wasn’t strong enough…

Oh but friends, up until 34 minutes ago, He was painting something that I could never catch.

I’m stronger.

and so I asked him this:

Please, PLEASE, be honest… honest enough not to worry about my feelings: was there any part of you at all that actually loved me?

The quickest, easiest way for me to fill you in is to just repeat his, “no.” Like if he had said yes, it would have changed things; maybe defined why I held on to the impurities for the past 10 months and have been so rocked by the re-rise of that masterpiece of darkness….

But he didn’t say no.  And he didn’t need to.  I just needed to ask… to be sure I was ready.

And I am.  Ready to return to the purity, the one that shines a brighter light on my heart that deserves so much more than the “flirty” fun that risks another 10 months of ignorance.. for that’s a beauty that I’m now grasping SO TIGHTLY.

So I told him this:

you held too much of my heart. I won’t do that to myself again.  be proud and let that drum roll in my honor.

you’re amazing… but I deserve more…and believe me: I would love every bit of fun and you all over again.. and again and again and again if you were willing to give me that.  that’s right, it’s still beating.

and then he agreed, because he knows I do too.  But here…

That’s where I come to you darlings.  I love, LOVE that you love me so much.  I love that you’re protective and say things like, “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO GO SEE HIM ARE YOU?!?!!!!”  But I also love that you love my heart and the rediscovered purity that is buried among many more impurities.

My purity says this.  “love him anyway.”

My friends, my family, my church-mamas, and all of you that saw the love he awakened in me: pray for him, because he needs it more than I EVER will.  Oh, how I just want him to accept the love he deserves as much as I do.  Oh, how I just want him to know what it feels like to catch a sunset, to breathe it in for another person the way I did him, the way I do Him…and oh, oh, ohhhhh, how I just want him to believe he deserves it.  Because we all do.  It’s called grace.  Find it.

I want to clarify too, my purity is saying one more thing…good-bye [insert name that I’m never allowed to type because his nosy ass nanny maybe spying on my blog—that’s right, I just called you out…and you won’t ever deserve him… and while we’re on it, I never should have given up my writers-chance-of-a-lifetime opportunity that you stole through your own darkness…]

Where was I… Goodbye phone number, goodbye email (no really, I just deleted his contact card), goodbye facebook (oop… and there goes that “friendship”).  Goodbye my favorite what-if…

Guess what though, there are no more what-ifs with you.

Just the what-ifs of Faithfulness that honors my faithfulness.

My dad prayed these words over me the last time he gave me a redemption promise. (someday I’ll be able to open this letter without crying.  I love you, Daddy.)

“We know that He works in miraculous ways to achieve His goals, and most of the time He doesn’t give us any clues about what He is doing…we do know, however, that through our faith in Him, He will provide us with what are the best things for us.”

So through the darkness, you really were the best gift, so worth my love then, so worth His love now.

And, I love you, so deeply I loved every part of you.  But I choose purity.  I choose redemption.  I choose goodbye.

ps. this wine tastes DISGUSTING… will have to toast to heros with something else later.

reflection.

A couple of months ago, I “re-met” a hero.  The last time we sat together, we were in a van, visiting the land of heroes, the then “new” resting place home of our hero, our brother.  This time, here we were:

His name is Kurt…the brother of my other hero (Buddy), and in so many ways, he’s rising to be the brother-in-law-cousin that I will never have.  Bud, you’re brother is great.  Thanks for sharing him…

We drank to you.  Toasting to your years of greatness, your life of love, and the sacrifice of your bravery that ended all to soon.  We toasted your wife.  and then we danced.

We danced our hearts out..with no rhythm, no cares, just a compulsion to live for you this great life that we wish you were a part of, every. single. day.  We held you with us, the same way we held you when we joined hands the day we said goodbye.

Oh but your hands… oh how I’ve longed for them to carry me through my first real heart-ache, and my second, and my third…  through the triumph of getting a job, and walking away from a job, and most recently–getting into grad school.  My brother-cousin-in-law, you are still, so, so missed.

And in those precious hands that are holding his little-sister-cousin’s heart, I thought I’d had the strength to move on just as sister-cousin has.  But we don’t move on from this man, our hero.  We move forward because of this hero…

We drive the long road of life without you here, yet every part of you there.

And the tears that streamed with grief we’re buried once again as we felt you in the clouds around us.   We watched for you as the wind blew the flag of heroes so fiercly in the breeze.  and we cried the surreal tears remembering, honoring, that you really were ours…It wasn’t about the grief.  It was about living through your greatness and bravery.  

and here’s to your greatness and bravery.

Some memories of you are still too personal to share.  Someday I will, not today.  Because it’s the blissful me that’s thankful for your heart, thankful for your example, and so every bit full of gratitude for you living through your brother’s watch over me.

Then I got home… and the grief returned.  And there he was to speak sweet, sweet words from you to me as I grieved for the umpteenth-zillion time over the loss of you, wishing those brother-cousin-in-law hands could hold me through life.  And as he reached out the way you would so effortlessly do, I was reminded of greatness, kindness, and a one of a kind laughter that had become only whispers to my ears.

And his voice, it’s almost yours.

—

Oh but the way you could understand a heart like mine, and now he is too.  Sister-cousin came over last Saturday.  “I know sister.  You have a heart.” and let me tell you about this heart….and about that last blog.  It breaks for the darkness and trials that my loves face.  It longs for the goodness, the purity that is too easily stolen, and it begs to be known as truth, to be understood as reality.

and the support of you here with him, oh it’s just so great.  And the bravery in me rises… to do what’s best for me.

Look darlings, I’m not sad.  Remember it was a blissful song that held a beat of meditation and reflection…

Reflection finds, “those were the best days of my life…”

the best part of my 2012….

Kurty.  Thanks for coming back.  For buckling over with laughter when you hear a story about my dog’s chew toy or for answering to listen to a frustrated and hungry heart that longs for funness and spontaneity but is really in need of righteousness and truth.  Thank you for seeking to hold the heart that he used to during a time when it’s a little too confused.  You’re a good friend my brother-cousin-in-law-in-law.  and I’m so blessed…these can be the best days.

no that is not a cigar…it’s the booth. that’s the finger of sass…and her bodyguard….and photobomber.

—

A special note to you, darlings: thanks for reading my life and for finding out with me that it makes no sense at all…just to be a part of it when it does.  This post is the first half, and one that my heart just really needs to be done with.  peace out.

Ahhhhh!  “Mom!  MOM, WAKE UP!!! I GOT IN!!! I GOT IN!!!!”

Phone call 1, text 1…. phone call 577, text 1035.  AND YOU– THANK YOU…and you, thank YOU! and all of you DARLINGS!  THANK YOU!

AND MY LORD, RISES HIGHER… faithful to the end.

“Sister, I did it.”  and the tears flow…. and the breathing moves freely.  and satisfaction reaches new height.

Let “that” be over, finally. Let me begin….

I walk into a room to shake the hands of two well-known faculty members and this is my chance to prove myself.  Who am I?  What is about Mason that attracts me, and why this program?  And my weakness, not just any weakness my “personal/professional weakness.”

To my left sits the man making the decision.  Then a girl, a little younger than me, freshly out of undergrad.  Next to her, a kind man, he’s a veteran, quiet but bold.  There’s a woman who I’m impressed with (seriously..I would choose her for the program before I’d choose myself.)  Then there’s her.  The woman making the decision, and oh my word, she is gorgeous, inside and out…I want to be here when I grow up!  Next to her is a young man with a heart as big as mine, his voice though, not as big as mine… define that for yourselves my darlings.  And another sweet girl, she’s still in undergrad but is so ready to be here (I say that like I’m already here…oh gosh I could really be in for a heartbreak…).  My “competition,” these five, but oh how I wish that instead they were my colleagues.  We have something in common us “born counselors”: passionate hearts that dream big– we will change the world.  We will.

…and that’s who I am…a passionate dreamer.  Little do they know, my dreams WILL become a reality.

My name is Nicole Paullin.  I have a passionate heart that dreams big.  I want to redefine success, my own success included.  I spent 8 years in youth ministry and took the last year off from life to travel and redefine my own life.  It all comes down to this moment…

My heart cries for the generation of today.  If there is any program that is going to help me make an impact, it’s this one.  I need to be here–it’s not a want, or desire.  I NEED to be here.  So here I am.

Mason’s passion to seek social justice, to take social action–THAT is what I am about.  “This” is at the core of my calling.  Social justice isn’t just seeking equality for immigrants or homosexuals.  <–and yes friends, I’m speaking out about my liberalism….ps. I voted for Obama (TWICE!)…no darlings I did not add this footnote to my answer….because Big Sister, I know you just gasped…

In a school setting, there are too many injustices.  Sitting in my youth ministry chair, I felt limited.  <–yes darlings, it’s all coming together.  I heard about the kids who sat alone at lunch tables because they were “tards” that had b.o.  INJUSTICE-BAM!  I heard about kids who were denied a place on the team because their parents weren’t involved enough.  INJUSTICE-BAM!  and… I saw tragedy,  experienced  tragedy as students, children, took their own lives because they were overwhelmed…overwhelmed because of academics, 6 AP classes, overwhelmed because of soccer, chess club, pressure to have sex, pressure to want sex, pressure to be straight, pressure to come out, pressure, pressure, pressure… to succeed.  And this is our chance to redefine success, with JUSTICE for these that are oppressed!  <–these are just a few of my words.  Here are others.

‘So Nicole, why counseling and not pastoring?’

Because Dr. “Woman,” I’ve done that already..and while I succeeded at redefining success for many of my students, I want to go on to make an even bigger impact.  I don’t want to be held back. <–and not that anyone has ever held my back in any of my previous positions, it’s the title….  So here I am.  I want to work with other oppressed that make up the great population of Northern Virginia.  We live in one of the richest counties in the country and what are we doing with these resources??  How are we using this privilege to help the underprivileged?  What can I–one person do in a private entity with 600 members?  I dream big…  I need big, not better, but better for me and for this heart of mine….

My weakness is my empathy.  I’d be lying if I didn’t say that’s what chased me out of ministry.  Though I had help from my mentors, when it came to setting boundaries, it became extremely unhealthy–never for my students or their families, but for me and my family.  I took on their problems as my own– I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that I can’t fix everyone.  It took me a year to realize that…and again, it comes down to this moment.  This moment where I can be completely honest with you, Dr. “Man” and you Dr. “Woman” to say, it’s scary getting back into this field that I know I’m called back to.  We can’t fix everyone, but if we can fix one, we’ve won.  Here’s the thing, Dr.’s, I’m on a mission to work myself out of a job, I know it’s not going to happen overnight, and in reality most likely not in my lifetime.  But, if I have the opportunity to change one life, just one, I’ve succeeded, and so have they.

So choose me, dammit!  I want this.  I’ve drank myself to the floor and traveled across the country this year.  I’ve journeyed through my heart, wrestled with my faith, loved, lost, gained…and now it’s time to win.  CHOOSE ME!  it comes down to this moment…and the next four weeks as the admissions board continues to interview…

Only 50% of all applicants were fortunate enough to even be interviewed.  Only 25 of those will be admitted to the program for School Counseling.  25.  25, that’s like 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… yeah, 25.  And my Lord, I pray, please let me be one of those….

—

Thanks for your prayers sweet friends.  Thanks Rob, Michelle, and Dr. Ramsey for your recommendations that have brought me this far…honestly, it wasn’t just your recommendations, it was your teachings, your belief in me, and Sharon too.  And Mom and Dad–I don’t want to let you down, but I’m still scared.  I take peace in knowing that you have defined success for me in showing me that I’ve already made you proud.

I love you all.  Thanks for being a part of this journey to redefine my own success.  Stay tuned though, because I have faith that together, we’ll redefine success in others too….

behold Him and live blessed my darlings!

love, nic

ps.  have to share some of my favorite texts of encouragement.

J- “Nic, you’ll be FINE.  Just do what I told you to do and take a shot before you go in.  If that doesn’t work, tell them about your unhealthy obsession with Michael Phelps.”

C- “Will say a prayer but you know you rock.  Just be your warm loving self.  Can’t wait to hear how great it went.”

M- “Good luck today, Sister!  I know you will rock it!”

J- “We are on the slopes-literally.  Ryan and I just stopped to pray on the snow.  Good luck!  May God give you peace and calm and clear answers.”

P- “Thinking about you and praying for you this morning.  Let me know how it goes!”

K- “I hope your interview goes well.  You’ll nail it!  After all, you ARE a Paullin.”

H & S- “PRAYING!!!!!!!!!!”

T- “You’ve got this girrrrrrl!  They will fall in love with you within 5 seconds!”

Hey!  It feels so good to be loved.  And I love you too.  But friends, God loves you more.  He’s on our side.

Me: Guess Who?!
Student: Nicole?
Me: WHAT?! How did you know it was me?!
Student: Because I could smell you…
Me: Ummmm?! *sniffs breath and armpits*
Student: No! NO! NICOLE!!! I meant I could smell your purfume and it smells lovely…
Me: Mmmhmmm… Right…. Nice save…

He’s right though, my purfume does smell lovely. “Lovely” being the opportune word.

Lovely…ahhh..
“I know you like to write your feelings and all, but…” words that are not so lovely. Words that stole a little piece of my glimmer and writing mojo. Until “lovely” insisted on returning. When I could smell you…

Why is smell the biggest memory enhancer? at least for me…

Like cucumber melon, 7th grade. Columbine.

Or sweet pea, high school.

and then it turned to Old Spice and those high school butterflies and first love.

or Ralph Lauren Polo and that college fling

and then Adidas Moves…. and a little too real of life…a little too lovely to be real.

But then there’s these, baby shampoo. and no more tangles. Those are the ones that make my heart melt in the loveliest of all loveliest ways. They make me happy, they make me ready…almost.

The smell of a hypnotic martini that screams friendship and support and first *adult-ish* love, answered prayer, God’s work… and here’s where my thoughts go back to being a little scattered and you have no idea what I’m talking about…

There’s the smell of dust and gravel roads, freshly mowed grass covering up a distant cow manure that’s accompanied by the sounds of roaring wind as you drive with the windows down blaring a little Rascal Flats. “Some say, we’re a couple of crazy kids…”

And then I just smell you and your support that’s got me here. hahaha, annndddd you still have no idea what I’m talking about. I smell me. And yes, it’s lovely.

A little over one year ago today, I stood in front of fear and hesitation and gave in to the best journey God has ever taken me on. And it’s over. and yes, I’m fully aware that every day of my life with Jesus is a journey…just a new one. Seriously this one is OVER!

I traveled in my home. I drove for miles and days. I left tears on the side of the road and questions with random gas station attendants. I embraced deep friendships over margaritas and wine (not glasses, BOTTLES). I laughed some fierce giggles….I fell in love…and then out…and then in again…and then out. AGAIN. I started a business. I kissed boys, a lot of boys. I even kissed a man. and then I failed, majorly. I fell asleep half dressed in my shower (covered in vomit). I snuggled with my sister. I went back to school. I moved. I celebrated. I lived and became me, the best me I’ve ever been.

Justin asked if it felt like I’ve been gone a year… “Sometimes.” I actually feel a world and a half apart from where I was then. I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time. The strongest too. And baby, look at me now! Smell this lovely fragrance and with it enjoy the memories that make my heart jump. They return with innocence and confidence. They remind me of the fighter I am, and the passionate soul that no one will ever steal (or miss) again. And they just make me love, love life, love you, love me.

And now I have it all—and keep getting more! The gifts you sent were more than enough, like a sweet-smelling sacrifice roasting on the altar, filling the air with fragrance, pleasing God no end. You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus. Our God and Father abounds in glory that just pours out into eternity. Yes. (Philippians 4:18-20 MSG)

Dear Jesus, pour your fragrant offering upon me, let me wash Your feet with mine. And let me love You more today, more tomorrow. Let me smell You more than cucumber melon and adidas moves. Let me smell you like the dust that was a part of my journey. Love, nic

and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (Ephesians 5:2 NIV)

So today, NOW, I do my thing, I love from the core, my soul dances in adoration and I write this passion.  I do my thing, and I wait for Jesus to do His.  I TRUST Him to do His. 

And all God’s people say, We love You.  We love You.  We love You, Lord!  We love You.  It’s the beauty of simplicity that brings me down to my knees.  I’ll praise you for eternity.  I love you, because You first loved me.

—

But before I get to loving, let me hate.  Oh there’s a lot of hate today…

I used to get in trouble for saying “hate”.  My moms all reminded me how strong and ugly the word is.  I don’t take it lightly, and I refuse to waste any energy on hate.  But sometimes, it just fights a good fight.  Let me tell you the things I hate.

I HATE that donuts go straight to my butt.  I HATE that Fossil purses cost $$.  I HATE that my bathroom is a minky color with a green tub.  I HATE that at 5am when I would love to talk on the phone with my best friend, I can’t because it might wake up my parents.  and I really, REALLY hate sleep deprivation due to stress and emotion.

But then– I really don’t.

I LOVE that donuts have a special kind of Friday taste.  I LOVE that Fossil offers a certain retail therapy satisfaction.  I LOVE that my bathroom is mine with that little retro feel okay–there I’m lying, I actually really do HATE IT.  I LOVE that at 5am my best friend will text me for hours because she understands.  I LOVE that my mom is in the next room and I can still snuggle with her through the sleepless nights.

So this morning, this SATURDAY morning, at 5am I woke on my knees figuratively speaking that is…as I let LOVE win over that HATE.  God is drawing me back in with each investment I make in Him.

I’m falling in love with Him all over again.  It’s sweet but far from satisfying because I just want more and more and more.  I woke up yesterday after a much needed nap to hear these lyrics in my heart: “His love is waking my heart to life.”  and THIS is the best Love I’ve ever known.

His Love is deep, His Love is wide, it covers us.  His Love fierce, His Love is strong.  It’s Furious.

Sweet Jesus, give me more.  And as I invested a little more time in worshipping this Love, He did.  In this:

Before they call, I will answer, while they are still speaking I will hear. (Isaiah 65:24)

Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)

Because this was all that I could take right now.  Though I so soooo want more, His Love has this way of overtaking us, just enough.  Falling in love this way is painful.  This way, it grips you tightly, and never lets you go.  It’s so painfully good.  Today, that pain comes with a grip of trust.

I am scared to death to death that I will not be accepted into my program at Mason.  I cry when I think about it.  I wake up in cold sweats in the middle of the night dreaming about it.  I question why God would “prevent” me from being accepted…and yes I know how ridiculous that sounds.  Thanks for rolling your eyes.  I laugh at the thought of more failure and not that I need to add this, it’s not a joyful laugh… This is my focus right now and there is nothing simple about it.  Or is there?

I met with Michelle on Wednesday to do life.  This woman needs every word of hers recorded.  My mind recorded just one.  “Trust.”  Yeah, that’s real simple.  It’s the “beauty of simplicity.”

I completed my application today.  More than anything, it’s time to be still and know a God who answers my call before I ask; time to trust.  Trust in this love.  Fall in love with You.  Trust in You.  Trust in Your ways that painfully hold my heart as they write a perfect plan in me.

I’m falling in love with You.

and I just love this: knowing love, writing love, feeling love, cherishing love and being submerged in love.  I love being held in love.  investing in love.  trusting in Love.  oh this love is loud, and it’s mine.

I’m bored.  No really, so bored.  Like, the kind that is so bad a game of sudoku, words, and tetris won’t come close to curing.  Bored.  Like enough to sit and read until I remember that I don’t really like reading unless it’s the Carebears, Charlotte’s Web, & Jack and Annie go to Camelot for Christmas to my buddies.  Side note: I have now started Mocking Jay 3 times.  THREE TIMES!  I have a shelf full of other books that I’ve read…. ahem…the beginning of and never finished.  I have a stack next to my reading nook that I plan to get to…at some point in my life.  And…I just bought another.  Two.  But no, I can’t read.  No, not when I’m bored………..of course not.  No, not when I actually have the time to….of course not!

—

I don’t think I’ve written about it before, though many of you know I have been seeing a therapist since July when I decided to retake control of my life after wild and scattered soul searching and heal.  My dad will probably read this and think to himself “I really wish you would stop wasting your money on that…”  and my mom will read this and say “don’t be so quick to share everything…”  To which I say–my life is in order and progressing because of therapy…and God (Sunday school answer).  Here’s the best way it is.  Oh, and let me also add that when the new year began I decided not to write about the “bad year”…ever.  But this is too good not to at least reference it.  Let me also add that when I started therapy I was so overwhelmed in every aspect of my life, filled with anxiety of the “what’s next” questions and the “how to’s” and the “what ifs” and a lot of “crap, I’m scared…” answers.

In one of our first “meetings” Miki <– (that’s his name) said these words.  “Bored is a good thing.  Work on getting ‘there’.  That’s when you’ve done everything you can in that moment, and you’re just waiting contently.  It’s not bad–that’s a misconception.”  Guess what!?  In the words of Lloyd Christmas, “we’re there!”  Praise the Lord….PRAISE HIM!

I started doing this “to-do” list.  It’s rather special (notes and printables below).  I mean, completely unique from your to-do lists.  ENTIRELY…. NOT!  I started it in December so that by now, today, I’d be so into it that by next week, when school starts, it will be just another thing on my list.  And while some mornings I wake up completely overwhelmed, most nights I go to sleep completely anxiety free.  Last Friday and Saturday and Sunday and Monday and Tuesday… you get it have been those “most nights.”  and praise the Lord!  …again.

I think I was fourteen the last time I uttered the words, “Mom, I’m bored.”  I got to say them for the first time in twelve years last Friday…and again tonight.  YES!  My, my, my, I’m there.  It’s so surprising that I actually forgot what real contentment feels like, like I just cleaned my reading glasses, like my sheets are clean and the bed is made and I just want to lay on it, like the smooth sand right after a wave that washes away the ugly version of your footprint, like the first breath coming out of water when you thought you were about to drown.  Do you get it yet…I figured maybe you had forgotten too..

Here’s what I’ve been reminded of.  Disappointment and discontentment are not the same thing.  Disappointment is a part of life…definitely was a part of mine last year and it just happens.  But discontentment is more because of me, I let it happen.  I sought for more until I couldn’t take it anymore.  I turned to being “me-focused” instead of being “God-focused.”  I chose not to wait on him and His timing just because I was disappointed in it.  WRONG!  WRONG!  Big fat ‘F’ in catering to my spiritual relationship at that point…and I hate getting anything less than an ‘A’.  Right–back on topic.  Stay with it Nic!  

In being discontent, I missed out of the present moments when God was pushing His way into my life.  The me, ME, I preferred pushing Him out…  But He was actively pursuing me, shuffling things around way around, pushing me to make His work in me perfect.  And I missed out on that perfection, until now… because instead of being disappointed, I am bored!  He’s been so deeply invested in me that during the waiting (i.e. my disappointment), that’s where the best investment took place.  Praise God…. yes, again.

Love this.  SO MUCH!

Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.”

Isaiah 64:4

I have a new definition for boredom.  I learned it at church in a series called “Rescuing Ambition“.  Too bad I didn’t feel the Spirit’s movement then, but so glad I feel it now!  Ahh Nic!  Stay focused!!

Definition of boredom: hungry for more, content with less.  Thank you Rod Stafford.

Thank you to-do list.  So back to that.  Promise it all ties in.  PROMISE.

I sat in my chair/my nook.  And I looked around my room with nothing to do.  Seriously, nothing.  Every to do was checked off.  Every chore completed.  Every piece of clothing folded neatly and put away (in case you forgot, I have 240+ items).  In all honesty, skip over this part Dad, I had an urge to move, because things were too still.  I sat with this realization of being done for now.  I was suddenly very aware that this is my home for the next two years, and I really wanted to move again.  I felt the hunger for more.  Then I realized what I was thinking and came back down to earth.  I’m trying to stay away from 20th move before 30 (let’s add that goal to the list).  Instead, I chose to be content (kind of) with the “all of the above” nook, and the tiny pocket of space that my bed fits in, the four homes of the Shoe family…it’s less than my two bedroom apartment with the Farmers Market red, and comfy make-out couch, and Michigan Avenue home office, and 21st century bathroom, and walk in closet (can’t forget that!).  IT’S A LOT LESS.  But that’s okay because with less, BECAUSE OF LESS, I am able to feed this hunger for more.  I want to I have my life back.  I’m on my way to changing lives again.  And in the waiting and journey there, I’m no longer disappointed.  God’s doing the perfect thing in me now.    In this waiting, He’s still invested.  How could I, why would I be disappointed?  I’m bored.  Praise the Lord.

MERCY!

no go, be inspired.

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This is by far the coolest app I have ever, EVER used for productivity.  Spendy, but worth it!  It’s called Things.  I have it linked on my four apple devices (did you know yet that I am an apple-junkie?!).  Macbook, iMac, iPad, and iPhone.  Each “check” syncs to every device.  IT’S SERIOUSLY GENIUS!  It even works with Siri reminders.  Genius I tell you!  If you like crossing things off with a pen or don’t want to spend the money, you don’t need the app (unless you want to go hardcore like me and be bored).  Read through my notes and then download the printable.  Fill in accordingly–and feel free to copy my daily schedules!

It looks like this:

I love that I can separate by category and organize repeating events and due dates.  You can even create projects, i.e. GMU application with specific to-dos.

My categories include: Blog, 30 Day Organization Bootcamp (another post another day), Home, Work (BYP), Volunteering (FCC).

My repeating events are the standard unlikeable chores: Hold on to these notes..and don’t judge my cleaning schedule.

• Daily: fold/hang/hamper clothes (because with so many, it really is a daily task), pick out tomorrows clothes (saves at least 20 minutes every morning–and I need that when I am at work by 6:30 a.m.), even medicine reminders, yoga, make bed (for the record, my bed has now been made 27 days straight)!
• Every 3 Days: clorox bathroom counter (you can include kitchen too), 45 minute clean-up where needed (bedroom, office, kitchen, etc) This one has helped to keep my “area” clean since December, #soproud
• Weekly: Spread out the chores so that you’re not overwhelmed!  Sunday-print sticker charts (a work thing), Monday-Volunteer work (a reminder to text my small group girls, review curriculum, etc.), Review weekly projects, goals, and areas, dishes (mom, dad, and I split these. don’t go thinking they only get done twice a week–although sometimes true).  Tuesday- <fill in what’s needed>, Wednesday- Photo journal entries (another post another day).  Thursday- volunteer work, dishes.  Friday-laundry.  Saturday- clean desk, photo journal entries, volunteer work.
• Bi-Weekly (I intertwine these so that they rotate with each other i.e. A weeks, B weeks): Sunday-A-clean car (because often mine becomes a dump of my life), Tuesday-B- dust, Wednesday-A-vaccum, Thursday-B-mirrors & toilet.

Setting up the list is a little time consuming but stick with it.  After a week, I promise, you’ll notice a difference.  Just try!

Begin with the daily, weekly, and bi-weekly tasks.  Here are the cheat sheets:

Dailies

weeklys

bi-weeklys

Next, sit down and think through your projects. (Keep this download handy!)

projects

Lastly, transfer to your to-do list.  This is the MASTER sheet.  You’ll use this every week.  I suggest printing out 4 and working through the month.  This will help you with project due dates and letting you know what is coming up.  Be sure to fill in your tasks that come every other day, or every three days, etc.  There wasn’t a cheat sheet for those.

Master Sheet (to-dos)

email with questions!  ps. how pinteresty am I?!

So, in the mean time though I’m introducing you to this:

The bed.  The rest.  The love appreciation.  Oh how it’s just so so perfect after the whirlwind of this:

Guess what darlings?! I am a FANTABULOUS baker… says my familia… well most of them…. except for my madre.  “Mija, I hate it when you bake.. you are SO MESSY!  Clean up after yourself!”  at 26 my mother still hasn’t stopped telling me to pick up after myself…it’s not ever going to stop, is it!?  

So this is a pumpkin caramel blondie— not too bad.  I got the recipe off of pinterest (where I get most of my dessert recipes).  I need to make this one again.. add my own touch to it, I will eventually.  If you just can’t wait until then, go to my pin (and check out some of the others too– your butt is about to hate me.  And yes, I know I get an F in comparative presentation….

I have this thing for baking.  But I also have a thing for this family and beholding them.  I also have this thing for smiling with them whenever I can!  I was on a mission this Christmas and that was to be in photos.  Seriously a downside of being a photographer–you’re never in the family photos.  and for you, family, darlings, that are laughing because I always have to be in a picture, now you know why.  PS. You LOVE delight in seeing my face plastered against another’s in the classic iphone selfies.

my dad.  does he not have the cutest “crack up” face EVER!  Seriously, LOVE idolize this man’s laugh.  It’s the best, most sweetest, most sincere, most comforting giggle I know.  He was in his element here at the Paullin Christmas dinner.  Complete with a brand new homemade ice cream maker!  How many Paullin’s does it take to put one together……?

guess what, Darlings?!  It’s all about family…and sweet baby Jesus who gives us Joy.

so as family, we gathered around the Christmas tree, cozied next to the fire, and loved no really, loved a sweet and special Love.  Love that recognized the hearts God has created each of us with.

My dad has started this new tradition with me that I LOVE you like how I’m needing a few different versions of the word ‘love’ because I just have so much of it?!  Right now I choose to replace it with the word “ADORE”.  Because I totally do.  My dad– the one with the most amazing laugh, he’s also the best penny pincher I know.  Seriously, it’s his thrill of the week to go to Harris Teeter on Senior Citizen Day to see how much money he can save… and then he comes home and mom and I are “so excited”…… SO EXCITED.  Which is why this new tradition of ours is that much more perfect being from him.

This is the second year he’s gifted me a letter.  and for the second time, I played bad ass fighting back sweet, thankful, and so so blessed tears and a quiet voice that said, “Oh, yeah.. thanks, I read it already.” because I know I’ll secretly reread it, alone, later, again and again until the creases in the paper are weak and fragile….that’s me going off of last years letter…. 

I never wanted to let him down, remember?  Here’s what he was seeing, the whole time:

2012.  Things are constantly changing….Somehow you find the time and effort to apply yourself (with full force and speed ahead) into healing activities and items that are focused not inward and personal but outward in directions and for purposes meant for others not only near you but also distant from you–not yet known to you.

I think I get the writing gene from him.  All that time I felt selfish.  All this time I felt like I was failing him.  But I’m not, I haven’t been.  And he’s still believing in me, he’s helped to heal me….to deliver me from that God-awful Quarter-Life Crisis and into THIS.  My real life.

Ahhh, this life of mine is a precious gift of love perfection.

Such a perfect gift.  My life.

It sparkles extra radiantly.

It takes pleasure in being a part of a BEAUTIFUL legacy.

It partners with those that care, those that support, those that love comfort.

and then it stops to breathe in the innocence.  the laughter.  the youthfulness.  the goofiness.  the happiness.  the beauty.

and it smiles.  because each day Life unwraps more unknowns.

It teaches more lessons.  Writes you in another story.and calls you away from annoyance…. more on these stupid bears later…

and into serenity.

because love, “love,” actually, is all you need.

peace.  LIFE.  CHRISTmas.

—

With love endearment this special Christmas season, Nicole and Sasha (Bellagio) Paullin.