Champions

His rich, buttery voice that once brought Americans the latest happenings in Vietnam was soft, with varying gaps of time as his mind pulled just the right words off the shelf. The speed of the conversation was quite different than the ones we had during my four years of undergrad at Ball State.

"Thank you isn't even enough. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude. This is better than winning an Emmy."

This man is a legend. Ted Koppel is one of his dearest friends. But to me and my (now) husband and hundreds of other amazingly-fortunate kids he was, and forever will be, Mr. Bell.

After receiving the 2017 Indiana Broadcasters Association Lifetime Achievement Award, word spread. So, a few dozen former students took to their notepads and keypads and iPads, and let this Champion know how far-reaching that achievement really went. Together, we compiled a simple book of heartfelt gratitude for a man who so generously poured in to each of our lives.

"I really don't have the words to express how important this is to me, but can I get a copy for each of my Grandkids?"

Everyone has Champions in their lives. Who are yours?

Are they older? Younger? Relatives? Co-workers? People you see daily or interacted with only once? Who are the people that placed a seed, or watered it, or pruned the vine from which you were growing? Do they know they played that part? Have you told them?

Words are so powerful. I challenge you to tell one of your Champions just how they've blessed your life. Let them know how the interaction you had with them changed the trajectory of... your family, your career, your lifetime habits. No one ever tires of hearing these things. There's nothing more powerful than to see where you've made an indent on this world. Be sure your Champions know who they are.

Not ironically, I recently found this sweet letter in our 6-year-old's backpack, addressed to the Dad who coached his fall baseball team.

"Dear Coach Clark, 
I think that you were a great baseball coach for Tomahawks baseball, and I that that you will be a great baseball coach this year.
Love, Jack Grove"

I challenge you: Tell one of your Champions what they mean to you today.

681

I haven't blogged on this page in approximately 5 years. That was 1.5 kids ago... 3 houses ago... pre 061715 ...pretty much a lifetime ago.

Crafting words together to make pretty, thought-provoking sentences, which are grammatically and factually correct, is therapeutic. I love reading a book or article or blog post that takes me some place. I'm amazed at the ways authors can weave words together to make a word picture so spot-on. 

Over the course of the last year I trained for and ran two half marathons. During those lonely treadmill training runs (ie. death) I realized how much is bottled up and jarbled up in my brain. From goals, to real estate, to parenting, to Jesus-following... there's a a variety of things going on up there. 

So, from time to time I'm going to drop a line or two on this trusty old blog, to which by some miracle I happened to recall the password. You can read the "old" stuff  down below if you'd like. It's a former me, but it's still me. I'm thankful to be refreshed of those memories from sacred days long gone. 

And now I give you, post "681".

I love a good goal, a SMART (specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, time-bound) goal, "Wheel of Life" goals. So, as every Type-A does in mid-December, I laid mine out... some physical, some educational, some work and family related. In total, 8 goals... 3 habitual, 5 achievable.

One of my physical goals is to (again) run 2 half marathons in one calendar year. But, to spice it up and make it a new goal, my running partner and I decided our goal is to run 13.1 miles every week in training.

Week one: Done.
651.86 to go.

But, this morning on the treadmill, something hit me (and it wasn't the duct work 4 inches from my forehead.) As I was sorting through multiple offers on a property I listed yesterday (this pertains to my number-of-homes-I'm-aiming-to-sell-this-year goal) while stuffing reheated leftovers down my throat before enjoying a movie with my people, I realized that it's really not the goals themselves that are so worth achieving.

The goal, in my mind, is not short-cutting other areas of life while going for the goals. 

If I'm eating while working on my laptop at the dinner table, and ignoring the people I share a roof with, what's the point?
If I'm too gung-ho on getting my practice minutes on the piano to help an elderly neighbor shovel the driveway, what am I striving for?
If my financial goals keep me from sharing resources with those less fortunate, why has it been entrusted to me to begin with?

So, week one of 2018 comes with a swift kick in the rear.
Don't let the SMART goals become dumb rules.

Pit Stop

Being that it's almost May in Indiana, it was quite necessary to name this post what I did ;) Other considerations were:
"Here We Go Again..."
"Yes, It's True" and
"Thank God Address Books Are Electronic."

About 18 months ago, when contemplating our move from Granger to West Lafayette, I made a very, very terrible mistake. The Hubby and I were on a walk and I uttered the following statement: "I think about the worst thing ever would be to move to West Lafayette, be there for a year or so, and then move to Indy."

Why, Stacy, whhhhyyyy???

It was 364 days ago that we accepted an offer on our house in Granger. Less than one year ago we agreed to give up the home, people and life we loved. The summer was looney as we lived in a gazillion different places, finally finding a lovely little West Lafayette town home in late November to call our own.

Today, less than five months later, we sold our lovely little town home. In the six days it was on the market, we had six showings, and ended up with two offers. Yay. For. Us.

So, now, we're off to... Indy! Just as we were making friends... plugging in... and starting over, God has called us on to someplace different.

It's not devastating in terms of "oh-we'll-never-see-any-of-these-people-again." I mean, really, much of my family lives in West Lafayette and we'll only be an hour down the road. However, it is devastating in terms of "time-to-find-a-new-house/school/church/smallgroup/groupoffriends-and-hanging-with-family-will-be-way-less-convenient."

The biggest awesome factor is that no longer will The Hubby spend 70 minutes driving to AND from work five days a week. I am so looking forward to a shorter workday for him (ie. more time with us!)

God will give us the house. He will give us the church. He will give us the school. He will give us the friends. In the last 364 days I've learned to accept that those things will not be perfect replicas of what we had in Granger. That was then. But, I've also learned that He will use our family for the purpose of His Kingdom, and for His Glory, if we (read: I) just take a chill pill.

Best part of all: We don't have to pack and move ourselves. (Good thing, our small group isn't big enough for a fiasco like that...)

So, The Great Adventure continues. Who knew this was just a pit stop? Onward.

58: The Film

All I wanted was a simple cake idea. Our Little Buddy is turning two, and I want to incorporate a firetruck into his homemade cake. Where to get quick ideas? Pinterest. Oh. My. Word. Don't get me wrong, I love Pinterest, but my perspective has changed a bit.

It happened on Tuesday.

I love a good documentary. Something well thought. Something low budget. Something with heart and a purpose.

Tuesday night our small group got together and watched "58: The Film" and my world was rocked. (Bonus: It's on Netflix.) We popped popcorn, made cupcakes and poured our delicious drinks-- and within the first 10 minutes no one had an appetite.

"58: The Film" is about a movement to end extreme poverty around the globe, through authentic Christian living, based on Isaiah 58.

In this 72 minute film you see families who live in rock quarries... working to pay a debt that's impossible to repay. You see families of eight who live in shanties... the size of my walk-in closet. You see little girls sold into sex trafficking... so their families can afford to eat.

What I can't understand is that while some kids are left to work in a quarry for the rest of their lives because of their parents desire to put food on the table, we are busy throwing birthday parties for 8-year-olds that cost as much as a mortgage payment! (C'mon, they invited 38 kids!!!)

We (Christians) are so wrapped up in who should be allowed to get married, what gender should be preaching from the pulpit and who has the right to carry weapons, that we've forgotten our mission on this earth. We're distracted.

Point for Satan.

Suddenly, my closet is annoying. My pantry is annoying. The fact that my kids DON'T share a room is annoying. I'm disgusted at my own oblivion.

Point for Jesus.

A few weeks ago I heard an evangelist talk about Western Christians being "spiritually obese." We go to church and feast... we go to Bible Study and feast... we hang out with our Christian friends and feast... but at what point are we going out and exercising our beliefs. How and when are we being the hands and feet of Jesus?

I'm guilty, friends. I'm so, so pathetically guilty. But I'm admitting it, which is the first step towards change.

Ending extreme poverty is not impossible. Changing lives from our small-town Indiana homes is not impossible.

And a simple 9x13 boxed cake mix will be more than enough to celebrate 2 years of God-given JOY.

Think. Pray. Talk.

Editors Note: I volunteered to write this for our MOPS newsletter, so this is geared towards the Mama's out there.
 
Dictionary.com defines "intimacy" as a close, familiar, and usually affectionate or loving personal relationship with another person or group.

According to Wikipedia (the source of all things brilliant, no?), there are four different forms of intimacy: physical, emotional, cognative, and experimental.

Physical intimacy is sensual touching. This is where sparks fly. It's when you get inside someones personal space... holding hands, hugging, kissing, and perhaps sexual activity.

Emotional intimacy is when you know your soul is tied to someone or something. I'd argue to say that many of us Mama's have some sort of emotional intimacy with a gal-pal, or group of girlfriends-- perhaps a group of women that are in the same age/stage of life as you. (MOPS!)

Cognative or intellectual intimacy takes place when two people exchange thoughts, share ideas and enjoy similarities and differences between their opinions. Perhaps we commonly see this amongst our family, both immediate and extended.

Experiential intimacy is when two people get together to actively involve themselves with each other, probably saying very little to each other, but being involved in mutual activities with one another. This one might be commonly found in the workplace.

When it comes to [Physical] Intimacy in Marriage, I am no expert. (Yes, you just heard my hubby shout "Amen!" from the other side of the room.) I've LOVE the emotional stuff. What can I say, I'm a w-o-m-a-n. And, thankfully, my marriage was built upon an intellectual intimacy between The Hubby and myself. We met in college, working towards the same B.A., and built a killer friendship. Sadly, I must confess that our child-rearing often looks like experiential intimacy-- working towards raising intelligent, God-fearing, kids-- without often coming together on the how-to's and why's.

Physical intimacy in marriage, I'd argue, is as a result of the other three. What do you mean, Stacy? Well, let me ask you a few questions:

Emotional intimacy evaluation- What or who is your soul tied to? Your kids? Your girlfriends? Your job? How much time to you spend tying your soul to the man that God hand-picked for you? Do you pray together? Do you memorize Scripture together? Do you still go on dates (without your kids!)? What do you do to pursue one another (yes ladies, we can pursue our men!) outside of the bedroom?

Cognative intimacy evaluation- What does your husband care about? I mean, what really gets him chatting? Sports? Politics? Business ideas? When the kids are gone, what will you talk to him about? What gets you chatting? Have you shared this with him?

Experiential intimacy- What do you agree and disagree on about raising children? Have you had a discussion about this ... outside of the time-out you've just given your child while you figure out your game plan? What do you look forward to if/when you get to retire together? When the house is quiet and the last birdie leaves the nest, what will you go and do together?

If these things are discussed and addressed regularly, I believe physically intimacy with our spouses would become less of a chore and more of a celebration! (Which, by the way, is what God intended for it to be! See Song of Solomon.) Have you ever told your Hubby what turns you on OUTSIDE of the bedroom? Maybe it's folding a load of laundry, unloading the dishwasher without being asked, or something as sacred as leading your family in evening devotions. Does he know this, or have you only been able to spill to your girlfriends what he DOESN'T know.

When it comes to Intimacy in Marriage, I'd boil it down to this: What is the ministry of your marriage? What fruit of God is seen in your marriage, because of His uniting you and your spouse?

Think about it.
Pray about it.
Talk about it.

Perspective

I love birthdays! I love cake... presents... surprises... endless FB love... singing... decor... gathering of friends and family... you know, all the things a good b-day entails!

This morning I started a new b-day ritual. I ran 3.1 miles. (Get it? 3.1 because I'm 31...) It was awesome. I'm still out of shape, but I did it. 400 calories- POOF- gone! (I'm thinking this ritual will be more impressive when I'm 65 and running 6.5 miles, no?)

About 20 minutes into this endeavor, two 70-somethings came in (wearing their jeans?) and hopped on the treadmills on either side of me. And, as I redirected my selfish thoughts ("I'm so much faster than them! Look at me go!"), it occurred to me that they're more than twice my age... and still working out. Instantly, I loved these ladies.

And, since I still had another 20 minutes of pain running, my mind began to wonder...

10 years ago I celebrated my 21st Birthday. On the one hand, that seems like an eternity ago, and on the other it seems like just yesterday. Either way, I cringe when I think about it. Some of my still very precious friends and I headed to a few of the local establishments (lots of options, thanks to Purdue), and we. got. loaded. There was a book for signatures after drinks... which were being served by the pitcher-full. There was a piano bar. There was dancing. There was fun and laughter. But, oh my word, there was more alcohol than I care to reflect upon. (This is not a judgement upon those who love this lifestyle. I'm just saying, it's not a good fit for me.)

This morning, my almost two-year-old, and my 4.5-year-old sang "Happy Birthday" to me with their Dad. (I might have asked them to stop, grabbed my video recorder, and had them start again.) It was precious. (By the way, who added the "cha-cha-cha" stuff? My kids think it's a riot.) We were all in our jammies, possibly on day 2 without a shower, eating oatmeal and laughing at D someone who toots a lot. Cherish.

My hubby, after a loooooooong night of work, was thoughtful enough to stop and get flowers, a balloon and a card, which I saw on the kitchen table when I woke up this morning. It could have been a bag of M&M's or even a bowl of pre-poured cereal-- the fact is, he remembered and inconvenienced himself to show me even more love than he usually does. (A year ago, he did this for me on my b-day.)

In 10 more years, I will be 41. HOLY SMOKES! God-willing, I will have a 14-year-old, 12-year-old and who knows how many (if any) other kids! My parents will be in their '70s!!! THEY will be the old people on the treadmills!

Woah. Now there's a new perspective.

Her Galaxy

Some of you loyal readers (all 3) might know my mom is an outstanding real estate salesperson in the metropolis of West Lafayette, Indiana... in the shadow of the golden... er, Purdue University.

What you might not know is that in the early '90's she became a part of an elite group of Realtors from across the country who were dubbed "Howard Brinton's STAR Power Stars." Basically, Howard-- a real estate and leadership guru-- did his homework and acknowledged the top real estate sales people across the country. Each month, he would feature one "STAR of the month," who happened to be the next inductee into this elite group. For my mom, Cathy Russell, that was February of 1994. It was just after my 12th birthday, and I had no idea how it would impact the rest of my life.

Her fellow STARS were (and continue to be) some of her best friends. They've challenge her in her business as they have gathered twice a year for the last [almost] 20 years to swap ideas and inspire one another. They're also sounding boards when a "rainmaker" needs to vent... encouragement when overcome with illness... and a swift kick in the pants when one might start to get lazy [read: behind on technology].

Every summer we got the awesome experience of a week away at an incredible destination... Orlando, San Antonio, New York... and on and on and on. Basically, we'd swim all day in the hotel pool and eat great food while Mom went to sessions and taught others her trade. Then came the years that I got to go as an attendee. I graduated from college and join my mom's team. Talk about not missing a beat... these conferences were awesome! It was like standing in front of a fire-hydrant of information.

Wikipedia says, "Stars can form part of a much larger gravitationally bound structure, such as a cluster or a galaxy."

That's it. This group has become mom's galaxy!

But, as I started thinking about it, they're also part of mine...

Amy Stoehr was mom's first assistant, and left to go be Howard's go-to-gal. She was like a big sister to me! I did (and still kind of do) want to be her ;)
Randy Keys' Christmas parties at the Indianapolis Zoo were always so fun!
Jana Caudill is our next door neighbor at the lake. We live our summers with her family, and have for years!
Beth Mason and Janet Parson's helped mom get me into my wedding gown on that most-sacred of days!
Steve Westmark was at the hospital for the birth of my first born child!

A galaxy indeed!

For the last few days, Mom has been in Utah, celebrating the life lived by Howard Brinton. As I've watched the photos float across my Facebook home page, I started thinking about what Howard meant to little me. He was goofy, and smart, and made an adoring 12-year-old fan feel awesome when he gave ME (!!!) a hug at one of those annual conferences.

"For at least a portion of its life, a star shines due to thermonuclear fusion of hydrogen into helium in its core, releasing energy that traverses the star's interior and then radiates into outer space."

As I came across that statement, I couldn't help but think of Howard. For a portion of his life-- most of his life-- he shined. The thermonuclear fusion (whatever that technically means...) in his core released energy... and then it radiated! He poured into others, helping them to become the best of the best!

At church last Sunday, the pastor challenged us with this question:

Howard's seems so clear to me: Be a shining star in the galaxy where God has placed you.

Thank you, Howard, for bringing mom into your group. And, thank you STARs, for being the galaxy in which mom perfectly fits.

The War

Brace yourselves. I'm about to go on a major rant. But, this is my blog, so I guess that's allowed. And really, what better platform, right?

We are in a war. What happened in Connecticut last Friday makes it all the more real. It's not just a war of weapons, mental health or security issues. It's much, much bigger than that.

Since allllllllll those years ago when that slimy snake worked his magic in the garden, we have been in a war of Evil v. Good.

As I've scrolled Facebook the last few days, reading reactions to the tragedy of 26 lives gone in an instant, what most frustrates me is the dialogue that goes something like this:

"Dear God, Why do you allow so much violence in our schools?" -Concerned student
"Dear Concerned Student, I'm not allowed in schools." -God

Really? If you believe this, as a believer and follower of Jesus Christ, I think you might be confused.

The God I follow is omnipresent. He is God. He is everywhere, at all times. He is omnicient. He has complete, unlimited knowledge.

Laws and rules do not keep God out of schools. He. Is. GOD! He is in schools because we (believers) are in schools...
... opening our mouths to proclaim His truths...
... loving on others with self-less action...
... praying for the leadership of the school...

It's not a petition or rules that "allows" God into schools. He doesn't need an invitation.

Matthew retells a prophesy of Isaiah (about Jesus) in the 12th chapter of his gospel:

¹⁸ “Look at my Servant, whom I have chosen.
He is my Beloved, who pleases me.
I will put my Spirit upon him,
and he will proclaim justice to the nations.
¹⁹ He will not fight or shout
or raise his voice in public.
²⁰ He will not crush the weakest reed
or put out a flickering candle.
Finally he will cause justice to be victorious.
²¹ And his name will be the hope of all the world.”

People! God does not need human permission to be in schools!

Whether public school, Christian school, home-school, or any other time of educational facility (or movie theater, or shopping mall, or army base), there will be trouble/hurt/violence/thingsthatmakeabsolutelynosense! God warns us of this:

John 16:33 "I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”

"...BUT TAKE HEART..."

Ah ha! A different promise!

To me, the bottom line is this: I don't believe in a set of rules. I believe & follow a relational Savior, who loved me so much to die a horrific death on a cross by crucifiction! They'll know we're Christians by our love, not our rules... or complaining... or excuses.

 You want more Jesus in schools? BE HIM!

Shaking = Strength

Superman planks. Lunges & bicep curls. Dips. Wall sits... for 60 whole seconds. It didn't seem bad... and then the shaking started... and then Coach Cindy came and sat on my shaking legs.

"C'mon LADIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Shaking equals strength!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Coach Cindy has a way of saying things that make you want to hug her and punch her at the same time. But what she said this morning had me thinking something all together different.

Shaking = strength.

What makes you shake? This morning, for me, it was wall sits. Physical.
What about mental shakes? Getting ready to tell your children about your cancer diagnosis? Mental.
Stressed over a new job? Emotional.
Running out of steam to fully-commit to the year-long ministry you're engaged in? Spiritual.

This mornings comment by Coach Cindy really had me thinking. (Good thing, because thinking about the burpees you're doing while you're doing them is really awful!)

We must be shaken to show God's strength.

Sitting on the couch watching TV all night? No prob.
Eating every single item offered at the tailgate on Saturday? Gladly.
Going through the entire day without ever hugging your spouse? Easy enough.

GOD LETS US SHAKE NOW AND THEN.

I think of Noah-- probably because we're studying the flood right now in BSF. His neighbors must have thought he was nuts. Hauling huge cypress trees out of the woods with his sons to build a gigantic boat? Nutso. I see physical shakes (heavy trees) and emotional shakes (being made fun of.) Where was his strength? God's promise! (Genesis 6:9-22)

How about little David and Goliath the giant? David had to have some shakin' going on. "What was I thinking?" One. Little. Rock. One BIG God. Strength. (1 Samuel 17: 48-50)

So how is God shaking you? Where are you going for strength? Are you volunteering for every organization on the planet, and yet getting no help of your own? Are you trying to break a bad habit, without asking for help?

2 Corinthians 12:9 "For my power is made perfect in weakness."

He needs us weak, so He can show just how strong He is. We shake, so He can show his strength.

So go on, get out there. Let God shake you up a bit. Then let Him show HIS strength through you... your circumstances, your life, your RESPONSE to Him.

The Recap

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize." 1 Corinthians 9:24-27

This weekend I ran the first-ever Purdue Half Marathon, my fourth such endeavor. It was freezing. I crossed the finish line and nearly tossed my cookies (literally, I had just stuffed a Famous Amos in my mouth!) So, as a committed citizen, I feel it necessary to give the organizers some feedback. Here's my $0.02.

Event Organizers- You nailed it. For the "first-ever" I thought most everything went splendidly. Sign-up was easy. Website was informational. Signage along the course was neat and clean. Course was AWESOME! (Okay-- running UP Northwestern for the last mile was slightly death-defying, but I understand why it went that way. And sprinting DOWN the hill to the finish line was just awesome.) Perhaps reconfigure the post-finish line arrangement for next year? A thoroughly equipped water station right away would be stellar, and having the food just a few steps past that would be ideal. But, I get that you had sponsors to recognize, and you did.

Volunteers- Y'all rock. I tried to thank as many of you as I could along the way, but I know I missed many. The fact that you'd give up several hours of your Saturday morning to hand out water (and have it thrown right back in your face), or stop traffic (and take the curses that I'm sure the citizens of Greater Lafayette were spitting out), was super. At one water station I hugged a very drunk banana.

Which leads me to my next thought...

ENGAGE THE STUDENTS! All of the volunteers were awesome, but the students were nuts, and I loved it. They were jumping, clapping, high-fiving, and generally just totally motivating. Perhaps some of the fraternities and sororities need community service hours? Why not some sort of water-station cheer-squad competition? Weaving the course through a campus community of 40,000+ undergrads, there has to be a surplus of volunteers, no?

Citizens of Greater Lafayette- I am sorry. Our course wound all around town, and I'm not sure how well prepared you were. Some of you we're stuck right in the middle. Thank you for your patience... for honking... waving from inside your windows... and even coming out to cheer while you sipped your coffee. I do have to say that The Organizers had signage out all around town several days before the event, but with this being the first time you might not have realized that 2,000+ people were committed.

Team Indianapolis- Can you even believe it? MONTHS ago an idea was born... and by God's Grace and ever-abundant provision, Neelu's needs are being met. May all the glory go to Him! What a privilege to know that there were others out there training, raising money, and Trusting Jesus!

As Our Own- Your organization is awesome. I totally believe it what you're doing, and I'm so thankful for your incredible ministry. I will be praying for you!

Neelu- You are beautiful. You are SO loved. Your dark eyes and bright smile were on the forefront of my mind as I endured some super-hot training runs this summer... and even Saturday at mile 9 when my knees said, "We're done!" I never stopped thinking about you, your mother, and the incredible journey I can imagine that God has you on. Oh the plans He has for YOU! I'm so thankful to be a little-bitty part of it. You can't imagine how much you motivated me!

Mark your calenders: October 19, 2013. Lets do it!

Good night, and good luck.

And just like that, 6:28 P.M. rolls across the clock and it's over. The day is done, the week is done, and a chapter is done...

Eight and a half years ago, The Hubby started at WSBT-TV as an intern. Tomorrow, he signs off as one of the main anchors for the evening news... a dream of his since he was in 5th grade.

If I had the technological know-how, I'd digitize and then upload the hours upon hours of VHS tapes his parents have of him doing the news from their kitchen table after school. Then again, maybe I wouldn't. (He forced his sister to volunteer to be the weather girl-- complete with a map of Indiana covered in Saran Wrap so she could draw on it-- and she might not want it made public!)

Over the years, I've always chuckled a little bit when people have uttered (without knowing The Hubby's trade) something about the "biased media" or how "the media is this or that." I tried not to let it offend me because I'm also good at stereotyping and blanket statements... but I want to tell you a different side of the news media.

I want to tell you about my Husband... the story teller...
... who agonized when he had to go interview you after your high-school aged son died on the football practice field.
... who covered the funeral of your daughter that was killed after a gun fell out of your pocket, and then sobbed with the photographer in the truck afterwards.
... who knocked on your door to tell the story of your husband that died serving our country.

My Husband, your news guy, carried those stories home with him. They changed him, and they are a large part of his decision to leave the business. As hard as they were, he loved those stories... telling the legacies of those people, those places, those moments... factual, unbiased, real. He cried. He prayed. He held our kids and me a little tighter. Your lives shaped ours, and we are thankful. I am thankful.

As he has been wrapping things up these last few weeks, the emails of encouragement, support and well-wishes have been trickling in. The few he has shared with me have been precious, beautiful, sacred.

In John 15:5, Jesus said, “I am the vine, you are the branches.Whoever remains in me, and I in him, will bear much fruit; for you can do nothing without me.”

I'm hopeful that his viewers and co-workers will remember him this way... as his other childhood dream... a farmer... bearing Fruit, divine fruit.

Did he get angry and lose his temper? Sure! And then he came home and re-thought his actions and words... and how he would or should "right" them.
He wrote cards to so many of the people he interviewed... who let him into their homes, their pain, their joy.
He even stopped by and prayed with interviewees, long after the story was over and the media stopped talking about it.

Dustin- You are nothing short of incredible. You have given it your all for 8 years, and I'm so proud of what you've done. You are so good at telling great stories, and equally humble in accepting accolades. You have enjoyed your co-workers, but never let them settle for being "okay" at what they do... always trying to push the "product" to the next level. You have been in more homes in Michiana than your Realtor wife, and have more loyal followers than you or I will ever really know. I have loved rehashing stories with you... rewriting them, reliving them. You have always been way too hard on yourself. So, sign off tomorrow night, Love, with confidence and joy knowing you've been a very Fruitful Branch.

And, just as Edward R. Murrow said at the end of a broadcast in 1940, "Good night, and good luck."

Running for HER life

I've said it once, and I'll say it again: I'm a wanna-be runner. I look a fool when I run. I feel like I could die due to a lack of oxygen. I begrudgingly strap on my shoes and dream up any excuse I can to get out of it. I am not a runner, and though my Dad won a state championship that involved running while he was in high school, those genes skipped my body.

Luckily, for me, The Hubby is a runner. To him, it's a stress reliever. And, his "hobby running" is straight up motivation for my two-kids-have-been-carried-full-term-on-these-hips figure.

I ran my first half marathon when The Girl was 9 months old. I sort-of trained. My second half-marathon... well, I had no business running that one. I think I ran about 10 miles total in "training." My third half-marathon was fun. I did it with my sister. Enough said.

A few months ago some friends and I were talking about running a half-marathon together. We decided on the first-ever Purdue Half Marathon and then discovered an organization called As Our Own. In a nutshell, they rescue little girls born to women working in brothels in India... and raise them "as their own." We worked to get the Purdue Half Marathon on the list of sponsor races this year for As Our Own, and it now is! WOOT WOOT! And, we just met our girl.

We're running for Neelu.

"Neelu is 15 years old and is in the 9th grade. She has a knack for keeping things neat and organized. Neelu loves to spend time with her sisters. Here tender heart is hungry to know God through worship and the Bible, and she would like to attend seminary for a future in serving others. She is passionate to go wherever God leads her!

Once a child is rescued into our family, she becomes an irreplaceable member. She is not up for adoption, because she has a permanent place of belonging, right here with us. She's ours to love, nurture, teach, and enjoy. For life."


Neelu is a real girl. She is living a life that I cannot fathom right now, and I certainly couldn't have imagined when I was her age... headed into my freshman year at Harrison High School in West Lafayette.

I am still a wanna-be. I still look funny when I run. I still can't breathe, and I still run a 12 minute mile. But I no longer do it for me. It's not about my figure, my weight, or fitting into my "skinny jeans." Every time I put on my shoes, I think of a sweet girl on the other side of the world who needs to escape her current reality. I think of Neelu, a 15-year-old girl, whom I will likely never meet while on this earth.

She is real. I'm running for HER life.

Will you support Team Indianapolis? https://iwillrun.myetap.org/fundraiser/teamindianapolis/

Birthday Banner

There's a birthday coming, and with it comes my incessant need to create a tradition. I know. That's the dumbest thing ever. But it's true. With every event, or holiday, or moment, I find myself losing sleep over how to either a) capture the "moment" or b) to be able to recreate it. And, lets be honest, the best, most long-standing traditions are not ones that have been conjured up in someones head, or read on someones Pinterest board. They're sudden, spur-of-the-moment, not-intended-to-be-sacred, pauses in time. (Like my family's tradition to watch the very wholesome, family movie "Christmas Vacation" on the eve of the birth of our Savior every year. Don't judge.)

Anywho, as I was perusing FB a few months ago, I saw a photo of a girlfriend's daughter on her b-day, sitting in her highchair with a subtly decorated kitchen in the background. This stuck out to me because said girlfriend was preparing for the big b-day shindig... which was to be over the upcoming weekend. And then I realized, she decorated her kitchen (nothing over-the-top) for THE birthday. The actual day this precious girl left the womb was being celebrated by her Mama, her Daddy and her little sister. Oh yes, the party was to follow, but they didn't miss The Day.

Duh.

It sounds so simple. It is so simple. But I've missed it. Don't get me wrong, we have b-day morning photos, and make a huge deal out of the entire day that the b-day party is taking place, but the D-A-T-E has been overlooked. Drat.

And then came the light bulb!

As I looked back through old photos of The Girl, I realized I have a great "cake" photo of her from all 3 previous birthdays. What fun! A birthday banner!

Each year, I'm going to take that sacred "cake photo" and add it on to this simple, I'm-not-a-scrapbooker banner. And, just to kick it up a notch, a few things will be included on the backside: How we celebrated; What she asked for; and Her own signature (or an outline of her hand if she's too young to write.)

This is a great, simple way for me to catch a moment, without having to maintain a scrapbook. It will also store easily, and make for great decorations (and conversation starters?) in years to follow. To make it extra-suspenseful, I'm going to bring out each "pendant" that many days before her birthday each year. (ie. 3 days before her b-day I'll hang up her 3rd Birthday Pendant, and so on...)

Time to go and make #1 for The Boy.

Journal starter

Reflect back to elementary school. You there? Okay-- did your teacher (circa 4th or 5th grade) ever give you "journal starters" to spark a creative writing exercise? The one I most easily recall went something like...  "On my summer vacation I..." We would then be encouraged to write without stopping... to let the creative words flow.

Okay. Back to present day.

This morning at my mom's I was reading a coffee table book she got from my cousin Hasso, who is raising support to go full time with Wycliffe Bible Translators. The book is called "Worship The Global Hallelujah" and it's infused with scripture, photos, quotes and ... journal starters!

This one caught my attention, and I plan to spend time pondering it: "If at the end of my life God showed me what my worship of Him looked like, here is what I'd want to see..."

I can immediately think of what I don't want to see. It's selfish. It focus on MY wants, MY emotions, MY needs. What I want to see when worshiping the Author and Creator of my life should have nothing to do with me.

In their book, Wycliffe suggest worship is:
-what we were created for.
-expressing our love to God.
-God's children gathering to proclaim His faithfulness.
-both quiet trusting and loud proclaiming of God's eternal Word.
-the flow of God's Spirit through lives of those who depend on Him.
-welcoming God to change us.
-surrendering our will to God's will.
-both a personal experience and a shared experience.
-proclaiming the victory of Christ in the midst of difficulties.
-praising God no matter where we are or who we are.
... just to name a few.

So I'll ask you again, "If at the end of my life God showed me what my worship of Him looked like, here is what I'd want to see..."

Boys and girls, you have 15 minutes to complete this task. I should hear no talking, and your pencils should keep moving the entire time. You don't have to write in complete sentences. Just jot down whatever comes to mind. You may stop writing when the bell rings.

Our current reality

We have a really good gig right now. My gracious MIL & FIL opened their home to allow the four of us to move in while we hover between old life and new life. (By move in, I mean utilize 2 of 4 bedrooms, an entire playroom and most every inch of closet space in the house.)

About a week before we moved in, they started on a dream they had when they purchased this home... an awesome, gigantic family room addition.

Here's what it looked like about 3 weeks ago...

Last week, The Girl and I spent a few days in Lafayette, as she had a very important event.... "Pretty Princess Dance Camp." Before we left, The Hubby & FIL started dismantling the wall between the kitchen and the dining room portion of the addition.

Here's what it looked like when we left...

And this is our current reality...

There is no denying that this is going to be one SWEET hang out when all is said and done. However, there are some minor pains along the way. Namely... well... see that plastic wall in the photo above?

Check out what's on the other side of it...

That would be the oven and cook top. :)

Now, in God's sovereignty, this is all going down in the peak of grilling season. And, FIL loves himself some grillin'. I also happen to be very fond of my crock pot, so that's great. And, MIL woke up yesterday and remembered she has an electric skillet. SCORE! So, we're inconvenienced... for a 2nd week.... and all a little edgy when there isn't marked advancement at the end of a days work... but we're not going hungry.

And, we're starting to see the beginnings of many family holidays come to light in one, special room...

940 Saturdays

Friday night in my most-recent Readers Digest, I read this:

940: The number of Saturdays between the day your child is born and the time he or she turns 18. The phrase might serve as a reminder to cherish the time you have with your child and use it wisely.
-From No Regrets Parenting by Harley Rotbart, MD

Wow. Only 940? That doesn't seem like many!

When we got pregnant with The Boy, The Hubby started a Saturday morning tradition with The Girl in which the two of them went on a doughnut expedition. Each Saturday, they'd wake up and ditch me to go and find the most wonderful of puffy, filled, iced confections. Not only did I get an hour or so to myself, but they got their much needed one-on-one time and most of the time they remembered to bring me one, too ;) In the end it was a win for all parties involved.

Now, it's a family affair. Most Saturdays, no matter what city we're in, we get up, get dressed, and let the hunt begin.

I did some math after reading this statistic (don't worry, I used a calculator) and discovered that we only have 732 Saturdays left with The Girl. WHAT? How is that even possible? In four short years we've whittled away more than 200! (Hold in the tears. Hold in the tears. Hold in the tears.)

Immediately, I was convicted (once again) of my selfishness. Just that morning, The Hubby had been invited by my FIL to go play a round of golf. SELFISHLY, I wanted to cross my arms, stop my foot and say, "I've been here with these yahoos all week... the three of us REALLY need you here... for our sanity... and you want to go be away from us for 4.5 hours of swinging a stick with your Dad?"

And then it hit me.

"... with your Dad."

You see, the thing is, even though they've already had their 940 Saturdays, I had the opportunity to allow them both #941 or #1265, or #1560. It wasn't about "leaving us." It was about time away, not working, to unwind, exercise, laugh and talk ... with his Dad.

So ... what are you doing with the 940 "Saturdays" you've got with your kids? Are you making memories? Are you doing chores as a family? Are you realizing there are only 52/year? (Lets not get all legalistic here, your "Saturday" might very well be Thursday, or Monday, or whatever day works into your family schedule!)

The point is will your son or daughter one day want to come back to your home and continue to have that special one-on-one time? Will they crave the warm feeling in their heart when they think of the fun, silly, spontaneous, ritual, SACRED things you did together at least once a week? Will they want to build those moments into their family life someday?

I hope so... for both your kids and mine.

Embrace The Pace

So as I was running last week, I realized that the motto of the town we're currently living in is "Embrace the pace."

This is not a coincidence.

Then, I started to look around. Everyone really does "embrace the pace." (Did you know that was possible?) Maybe it's summer... maybe it's the average age of town residents... or maybe it's just small-town Indiana... but whatever it is, it's therapeutic.

Anywho, you know you're Embracing The Pace when you find horse and buggy parking at your favorite hometown grocer...

And anyone who has time to shingle their mailbox is certainly Embracing The Pace...

My Father-In-Law, henceforth known as FIL, delicately Embraces The Pace as he gives his grand kids "tractor rides"...

And I have found that the world's most gigantic playpen will allow me to Embrace all sorts of Paces this summer as The Boy is trapped in one location *insert evil laugh*...

I don't know if it's a Pace that we're Embracing as MIL and FIL do this gigantic addition on their house (aka Temporary Dwelling #1), but we're certainly enjoying watching the daily progress...

And, how can you not Embrace The Pace as you watch your laundry spin in the sun?

Life is good. I'm Embracing The Pace.

It is finished

It's hard to believe we've been living in our new digs more than a week already, and yet at the same time, it's hard to believe its only been a week. Youknowwhatimean?

Anyway, the move was quite eventful...

At first we were being cute and silly

Nothing like some Martin's doughnuts to energize you on moving day!

Then, The Hubby pulled in with the BIG truck.

(FYI- It did not have the air-brakes he was hoping for.)

At this point, the piano movers hadn't showed up, so there was still time for cute photos.

Fast forward about four hours. So many of our dear small group friends showed up and we unloaded the house in nothing flat! Unfortunately, we loaded the truck in nothing flat and realized we'd have to make two trips to West Lafayette. That wasn't on the weekend agenda, but we were thankful for unlimited mileage!

So, with tired kids ready to sleep their way to Memaw's, I took off in our fully-loaded van (not fully loaded as in DVD players and automatic doors... think over sized framed art). I was about 7 minutes into the 2+hour drive when Hubby called.

Hubby: The truck is stuck in the driveway.
Me: That's so funny. What did you really call about?
Hubby: I'm not joking. I can't go forward or backwards. It's wedged in.
Me: So..... what are we going to do?
Hubby: You need to come back here and we need to start unloading the truck.
Me: ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? We just spent 4 hours loading it with the help of ten people!
Hubby: I'm not sure what else to do. Just come back.

This is what I saw when I pulled up. An exasperated Hubby... and Neighbor Man with a jack.

 It wasn't looking good, no matter what angle one chose....

That would be the divots in our CONCRETE driveway from our weighty load. 

Well, in a short 6 minutes, one very wise neighbor came up with the idea of putting something under each rear tire to give it just enough lift that when Hubby gunned the engine the truck would come loose. (All I could see was the rear bumper coming off the Penske.) Luckily, Neighbor Man was much smarter than me and we were FREEEEE. On the road... again... for real...

I'll spare you ALL the details of the unloading in West Lafayette. There were three different drop off locations (everything is in storage) and minimal helpers. Needless to say, when our 14-hour day ended at 11:30pm we fell asleep quickly.

At 8:30 Sunday morning we were on the road again. We were on a mission to be at 11am church (our last time of worship with our peeps) and then to a sweet, sweet going away open house. I will never forget the words that our friends spoke to us. So much encouragement and truth and Jesus.

But enough of that... time for truckload #2 to be loaded. There's not much, I thought. Thankfully some dear (ie WISE) friends showed up to help us a second day in a row, and we packed the truck again... full.

 Meanwhile... the kids found places to nap...

And, for the second time in one day, I saw SR 25 from Rochester to Lafayette. Trust me, this is not something to put on one's bucket list.

Here's drop zone #2 of three...

The hilarity came at 11:30 Sunday night, as me and The Hubby made our way to Embrace The Pace at our temporary home #1. There was quite a lightening storm going on in the distant countryside around us (think summer storm, fun to watch on a porch.) It was super windy, but not raining hard. As we slowed on SR 25 to turn on to US 31, I asked if Hubby would mind taking over the wheel. Without hesitation, we did a Chinese fire drill. However, we forgot to establish who would be taking which route around the exterior of the car and then ***BAM***, we cracked heads. I'm talking full-on, no-time-to-stop, leave-a-goose-egg-or-black-eye contact. We both climbed back into the van with a hand over an eye, and laughed. We gut laughed. We could hardly breathe because of the hilarity of that moment... or that day... or that weekend... or that event.

God was faithful in providing help... safe travels... and moments to cling to Him.

He. Is. Good.

So tomorrow, it is finished. We officially close on our house and walk like the Israelites did. No home. No certain future. Just us and the Lord.

The Great Adventure is in full swing.

the Real me and the Purple Dress

I was invited to speak at our final MOPS meeting of the year last Thursday, and this is the message God laid on my heart to share. It's just a glimpse of the real me...

I am obsessed with time.

I am a planner, and I’m pretty sure I’m OCD- a lethal combination. But this year, God has been refining me in this area.

In August, after months of prayer, with a 3 month old and 3.5 year old, God called me into full time ministry as a full time mom.  This was not an easy decision to come to. Not only was our household income going to be cut in half, but … What does that even look like? I don’t know how to be a full-time stay-at-home mom. I remember calling a girlfriend and asking, “So, what do you do all day? What is your routine?” Some women are born to be moms. They’re cute, and crafty… they’re the ones behind Pinterest! And, though I like to be cute and creative with my kids, I often need an example of what or how.  

Ez 36:26 says, “ I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” What I didn’t realize was happening this year was divine heart surgery.

I  had established myself as a Real Estate expert. I thrived on a full schedule of showings, closings, listing appointments, training new agents… and then came everything else… including my husband and kids. I didn’t realize how stony my heart had become until I was asked this question: For what kinds of satisfaction are you investing time, energy and money?

What kinds of satisfaction? Well, honor, name recognition, prestige… everything was about my three favorite people… me, myself and I. It was about the business I had built… the connections I had made… the clients I was taking care of… the money I was bringing in…  

2 Chronicles 7:14 says, “If my people will humble themselves & pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” I wanted God to hear me and I wanted to be forgiven and healed, but I didn’t want to be humble, pray or turn from my selfish ways.

I decided I needed to make more of an effort in scripture memorization. The first verse I chose was Philippians 4: 4-8, which says, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your request to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” Let your gentleness be evident to all. I am anything but gentle! I'm not super compassionate, busy, forward-focused… no time to slow and certainly no time to be gentle.

Shortly after starting to pray about this decision to be home fulltime—before the actual decision had been made—I went to a conference in Indy with some girlfriends called “Women of Faith.” One of the speakers talked about the pain of staying same v. pain of change. I had never thought about that. We all think of the pain of change… like I mentioned… giving up income… giving up business suits… and luncheons. But what about the pain of staying the same? If I kept on, I would miss so much more… and things I had never even considered at that point in my life. Another speaker at that conference talked about “pruning your life.” Stepping back and looking at everything and then asking yourself a tough question… well, tough for someone like me who wants to be involved in everything and not “waste” a moment of the day. The question was: What is God calling me to end?

Okay, okay, Lord. I’m getting it. I don’t have it yet, but I’m getting it.

I had asked for a lot of people’s wisdom and advice as I was making this decision, and someone told me this: Watch out for compulsion, God’s ways are orderly. That was so good for me to hear, as I’m a very quick decision maker! Then I read Ecclesiastes 3:1, which says, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven…”

Okay, Lord. I got it now. I have my whole life to work… and make contacts… and do what I’m passionate about outside of the home. But right now, there are two little people that are growing up and I’m missing it.

This decision to stay home was confirmed later into the fall as I started a bible study on Acts with a group called Bible Study Fellowship, or BSF. It has had a HUGE impact on my life this year—and my decision to be home full time. As the teaching leader gave her introductory lesson on the book of Acts, she said “Acts is about ordinary people doing extraordinary things for God, empowered by the Holy Spirit.” She then posed two questions: Am I so busy that I miss what God has for me? Um… yes! And, what am I busy doing that will last for eternity? Ouch. Not much.

2 Timothy 2:21 says, “If a man cleanses himself from the later, he will be an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.” I had made my decision. I wanted to be ready to be used—can’t be tired, over committed or distracted.

So this last year has been incredible. God has used my husband, our kids, my girlfriends, our financial situation, my calendar, and so many other means to speak to me and remind me of His presence. I read this quote somewhere, and I think as moms it’s so true: Great opportunities may come once in a while but small opportunities surround us every day.

Let me tell you the story of the purple dress.

One day, I revealed to The Girl my stash of bridesmaid dresses, which I keep in our guest room closet. She absolutely LOVES to dress me up in them. She would pick out the whole ensemble and then we'd pretend I was going to a "ball" or we'd just dance around the room. This was fun for a bit, but tending to an infant in that get-up was nearly impossible, and oftentimes I cut the game short. One night she was insistent that I go and put on "the purple dress." Over and over she talked about "the purple dress." Well, I don’t have any purple bridesmaids dresses and just couldn’t understand her persistence. It ended in tears when I told her to stop asking me… it was time for dinner… then bed. We had had fun in the other dresses. End. Of. Story. Or so I thought....

That night I walked into my closet and saw this:

Shoes, necklace, headband and ring…. all perfectly laid out under my purple dress... in my closet.

All I could do was sob, and beg God for forgiveness. And the worst part was I couldn’t undo it with The Girl. She was asleep and by morning, being a 3.5-year-old, she would have completely forgotten it.

So, I’m learning. I don’t have the full-time stay-at-home-mom thing all figured out. I’m messing up daily, like I did with the purple dress, but I’m learning from my mistakes.

About two weeks ago, The Girl started begging to paint my nails. I was always finding something else to do that required dry fingernails… make dinner, change a diaper… clean the house. Suddenly, I thought of the purple dress. As soon as I got Jack down for a nap, I told The Girl to go get the nail polish. She was so pumped. And then, for 20 short minutes, we sat in the kitchen as she delicately held each of my fingers and toes and gave me a manicure and pedicure. I will never forget that.

Luke 9:23 says “Then he (Jesus) said to them all: ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.”

What really matters to you? When Christ’s return is near possession, status, power mean nothing. It’s all about relationships. Who are you influencing?

The Influencers

Things are winding down. The "Michiana" chapter of our family book is coming to its completion. It's so deeply saddening, and yet so confirming as well.

This September it will have been seven years since we purchased our first home in this area. A home we planned to live in two or three years, not because we'd be moving a block away, but because we'd be moving to Indianapolis. But, God, in his infinite wisdom, had something far better for us here. And now, 6.5 years later, I can see it too.

Our lives have been deeply impacted by so many different people. Here, we went from young marrieds to a young family, and God strategically planted His people along the way to encourage and bless us.

Neighbors- Helen, Roger, Gary, Tom, Barb, Muff, Kim, Jason, Holly, Joe... I could go on and on. How is it possible that in owning three homes we could have been blessed by such amazing neighbors?? You cut our hedges that were on your property... made dinners for us as we attempted parenthood... mowed our grass just because... and showered us with free babysitting and endless children's clothing. In a nutshell, you taught us, mere children, how to be great neighbors. We will carry your friendships with us throughout our life.

Pastors- Rick, Brent, Kyle, Jay, Collin... you guys are so amazing! God put us under your wings to learn what it means to be members of a church. You shepherded us through periods of incredible growth in our individual walks with the Lord, and as we figured out what that meant as a couple. We are so thankful for each of you, and pray God's richest blessings as you continue in your various calls to shepherd His flock.

Uprising Class-  Our first friends as Mr & Mrs. We never treasured enough our short time together-- especially those days pre-kids. ;) Game nights, cross-country skiing, dessert at Yesterdays- we cherish the memories. And now, even as we're scattering to all parts of the country, we remain thankful in our prayers for you. Those that are still here, we've clung tightly to... and those that have already moved have given us hope for what's next for us on this earth. We love you.

Grace Church Family- You are our people. You are our family. What can we even say to express how much we love you. You have encouraged us, prayed for us, spurred us on, loved us. We have loved serving with you and for you. Granger is being touched by you. Blow the walls out. We can't wait to come back and worship with you. Pray for us.

Small Group Peeps- Past and present... our brothers and sisters who know our deepest grime, yet still love us and want to be in relationship with us. Tuesday nights have always been our favorite. Doing life with you all has blessed us more than words can express. Thank you for your prayer covering as we go forward.

MOPS gals- It has been a mere two years....not nearly long enough. However, you have taught me that I'm not insane. I walk into that room on Thursday mornings, and instantly I'm normal. Thank you for your willingness to come alongside me.

BSF women- How good is our God? I just had to look around my discussion groups to be reminded. All different walks of life... all different past experiences... all learning about the same God. God used you to teach me so much. Genesis, Romans, Isaiah, Acts of the Apostles... four incredible studies that rocked my world.

Cressy & Everett Associates- Why you let a cocky, young know-it-all like me in to those doors is beyond me. You are professional, courteous, educated, wise... I could go on and on. Six months ago I hung up my Michiana Real Estate hat, but it will forever hang on your hook. You taught me, and even let me train you. What a blast. And Sue, you're one in a million. There are no words to express how thankful I am for your leadership and example.

WSBT co-workers- In nine years, there have been many of you. Thank you for taking my Hubby in, allowing him to do what he loves, and sending him home relatively unscathed. He has been challenged and grown, and remains passionate about good journalism. Thank you for never making me feel like an outsider... and for trusting me to sell so many of your homes. ;)

Boyfriend, turned Baby-Daddy- You are my very best friend. We started this journey as individuals, and are on to the next adventure arm in arm, and with two beautiful Blessings in tow. How are we this deserving? Thank you for your encouragement as I've attempted to figure out what it means to be your wife, and the mother of our kids. I thank God for every single morning that I get to wake up next to you. My only expectation is that you please keep pointing me to Jesus. If anyone knows how desperately I need that, it's you. Okay? Alright. Lets do this, Love.

Michiana, you've been good to me. My life is different because of the 6.5 years I've lived here. Thank you.