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Showing posts from April, 2013

on the catwalk

I am afraid of heights. I close my eyes on roller coasters. I spend most of my time on a ski lift trying to decide If I fell off if I would survive. I choose an aisle seat on an airplane over a window one - even if it means that my big toe will get run over by the beverage cart or I will get woken up every time my seatmate needs to potty. The London Eye made me want to hypervenelate...and didn't feel the need to linger too long on the observation decks of the Sears tower, the Space Needle or the Empire States Building. The Capilon Suspension bridge in Vancuver almost made me throw up. It didn't help that my husband and brother tried to make it sway and bounce as I attempted to make it across while not soiling myself. In the rain.

When I was 11 my parents sent me to camp. Sleep away classic summer camp for most of July. I loved it so much that I went back almost every summer until I was 21 and still keep up with some of the people I met there. I vividly remember pulling in th…

second grade setup

I have some great and amazing friends. Ones that will bring me a meal when I'm sick, flea bomb my house, split their fries with me or listen to me not make any kind of sense for long stretches at a time and laugh at my jokes. Even when they aren't all that funny.
But sometimes I still long for something a little bit closer. In proximity and intensity.
A best friend. Even though I am probably already blessed beyond measure in that department.
I know that I am too old for this, but I long for a BFF just like I did back in the 2nd grade. When everyone else showed up to school on Fridays with a sleeping bag and a note to go home with a friend.

I can not stress enough, how great my friends are. How I've found a solid group of 4-5 girls that I can ask the hard questions to -- like what to do about my kid's rash, if my outfit looks ridiculous or what kind of wine to buy. And as a grown up, well...i just don't have the kind of time that I did when I was younger.…

more or less

We live in a culture that is always telling us that the answer to everything is more.

Get more.
Do more.
Pray more.
Give more.
Make more.
Work out more.
Volunteer more.
Buy more.
Work more.
It is no wonder we are all walking around feeling like we are never enough, trying so hard to be more.
Or maybe that is just me. But I doubt it.

Or we hear the exact opposite. Less is more.
Every January 1st I pledge to Eat less. Spend less. Procrastinate less. Yell less. Drink less.
And I rarely live up to those promises.

I am no good at being more. Or doing less.

But what if the answer, the new goal, was to just try to be enough.

To see ourselves as enough.
Each other as enough.
Our bank accounts and closets and all the things we seem to collect more of. As enough.
Our God as big enough for all the things we lay before him and eventually pick back up because maybe we don’t really trust him. Or maybe we aren’t really sure that he is paying attention. Or sometimes occasionally doubt his goodness …