My Mom

One of my first memories of my mom was when I was around ten, maybe eleven.  It was Christmas time.  I heard a knock on the door and I ran to greet our visitors.  I opened the door and there were two women standing there with gifts in hand.  Lisa and another family friend of ours.

“Merry Christmas!”  They sang out.

Lisa handed me a rectangular box wrapped up in shiny paper.  I remember wondering why she got me a Christmas present.  Who was she?  I didn’t get her anything.  I wasn’t quite sure what to make of her.

A few years later, Lisa became a more active roll in my life.  I remember when I was around 12 years old, she took me and her boys to the movies.  I can’t remember what we saw or where we went to eat, but I remember feeling special and loved that she would think to invite me to hang out.

A few years after that, I was 14 or 15 and I had a slight pretty big attitude problem…. that was probably fueled by a little bit of anger.  There was a lot going on my household no kid should ever have to face.  That’s when Lisa swooped in.  I don’t remember where we went, if it was a restaurant, a park, or just sitting in her car.  All I remember, is that she gave me a journal.  She told me it was called an Angry Journal.  She explained that any time I felt angry or upset, write it down.  Write what I’m feeling.  Use whatever words I need to use to get it out on paper.  That was probably the first time anyone had given me permission to write whatever and however I wanted.  I remember feeling empowered that day.  She gave me the gift of a healthy outlet to express myself.

A few years after that, I moved to Virginia for college.  At this point, my parents had divorced and Dad moved to D.C. to be with Happily Ever After person…. which happened to be Lisa.  I used to go up and visit them when I lived in Lynchburg.  I remember thinking, at first, “This is a little weird, not bad, just weird.”  But changes are always weird and uncomfortable.

A few years after that, I was about 20, maybe 21, I went up to visit Dad and Lisa.  We went to Baltimore for some reason.  There was a restaurant that they wanted to take me to and it was a part of a plaza with a bunch of other stores.  Lisa decided we should visit some of those stores while we wait to be seated.  By “we” she meant me just her and me.  We left dad waiting with the restaurant buzzer.  We went from store to store, talking, and laughing.  She wound up buying me two sun dresses at a really cute little boutique.  I remember thinking, “Is this what it’s like to go shopping with your mom?”

A few years after that, I was 25 years old.  I was standing outside of a hospital in D.C., crying uncontrollably and tightly holding on to Lisa.  Dad was gone.  The cancer had invaded too much of body.  I remember hanging onto her and feeling her arms tighten around me.  There were too many thoughts rushing though my head to remember any specific one.  However, even though I had just lost my dad… I don’t remember feeling alone.

I had my mom.

Mom is a special title.  It describes a woman who gives unconditional love, has an abundance of understanding, challenges herself and others to push forward despite circumstances, provides a safe space to come home to, and it describes a woman who lends a listening ear and a compassionate heart.

That’s my mom, Lisa.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

So Very Human

I always forget how therapeutic it is to write when my thoughts are racing through my mind a mile a minute.  I have to get up early and I can’t seem to settle myself.  Falling asleep proves to be a difficult task for me to achieve.

It’s just so hard for me to let go of my mistakes… even when I’ve corrected them.  Even when they didn’t have any major impact on others.  Even when I have the forgiveness of those it affects.  Why is that?!  Why is it that I am my worst critic?  Why is it so hard for me to let go of mistakes and mishaps?   Why is it so hard to accept the forgiveness of others?  Why is it so difficult for me to lay the day at rest and chose to look forward to another day?

I’m the only one that’s binding myself up with ropes of stress and anxiety.  I know for a fact that I focus on my faults and I blow them out of proportion.

I magnify them.  I place such an importance on anxiety and I give it so much more attention than it deserves.

How very very human of me.

Jesus should be the One that’s magnified.  I know I haven’t written anything about Him in a very long time.  I’m been thinking and searching and wondering and seeking and asking for a while about who God is and wanting learn more about Him.  It’s been a journey and it always will be.

As it should.

Jesus is to be magnified above my own insecurities, my stress, my mistakes, my faults, my weakness, my sinfulness, and any other traits that make me so very human.  It’s unfair for me to place something so small and insignificant above Someone so much greater and more powerful.

I have to practice, turning my eyes away from myself and focus on Him.  If I want perfection, I need to practice focusing on the One who is perfect.  If I want to be forgiven, I need to practice asking the One who can forgive.  If I truly want to be free from from the weariness of the day, then I have to seek out the One who gives freedom.

Jesus.  The answer is so simple.

Jesus should be magnified.

Not me and my humanness…. that would only continue to weigh me down and make my heart even heavier.

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

“O soul, are you weary and troubled?
No light in the darkness you see?
There’s light for a look at the Savior,
And life more abundant and free!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

Through death into life everlasting
He passed, and we follow Him there;
O’er us sin no more hath dominion—
For more than conqu’rors we are!

His Word shall not fail you—He promised;
Believe Him, and all will be well:
Then go to a world that is dying,
His perfect salvation to tell!”

Those are my stray thoughts for the day.  I know I’m not the only one who struggles with being a broken human in a world that demands perfection.

Goodnight, World.

Retro Earwarmer – FREE Crochet Pattern



ch 5
Row 1: sc across starting in 2nd ch, 2 sc in last ch (5 sc total), chain 1, turn
Row 2: sc in each chain, 2 sc in the last chain (6 sc total), ch 1, turn
Row 3: sc in each chain, 2 sc in the last chain (7 sc total), ch 1, turn
Row 4: sc in each chain, 2 sc in the last chain (8 sc total), ch 1, turn
Row 5: sc in each chain, 2 sc in the last chain (9 sc total), ch 1, turn
Row 6: sc in each chain, 2 sc in the last chain (10 sc total), ch 1, turn
Row 7: sc in each chain, 2 sc in the last chain (11 sc total), ch 1, turn

Rows 8-35: sc crochet in each chain, chain 1, turn (The amount of rows can be increased or decreased to your liking.

Row 36: sc in every ch except the last ch, ch 1, turn (10 sc total)
Row 37: sc in every ch except the last ch, ch 1, turn (9 sc total)
row 38: sc in every ch except the last ch, ch 1, turn (8 sc total)
Row 39: sc in every ch except the last ch, ch 1, turn (7 sc total)
Row 40: sc in every ch except the last ch, ch 1, turn (6 sc total)
Row 41: sc in every ch except the last ch, ch 1, turn (5 sc total)
Row 42: sc in every ch except the last ch, ch 1, turn (4 sc total)

Put it together :-)
Line up the ends of your earband, sc across the top in order to sew them together.


I play this one by ear. so, instructions are general and adjustable.

ch 8
Round 1: dc as many dc’s as possible without over crowding or causing the circle to bend/wave, sl st in 1st dc, ch 2
Round 2: dc in every st, sl st in 1st dc of that round
Round 3: dc in every other st, sl st in 1st dc of that round

BAM! Retro ;-)


Change is One Thing We Can Rely On

Change.  It’s the one thing that we all have in common.  It’s the very thing that either pulls us together, or tears us apart.

Change is inevitable and uncontrollable.  The only thing we can do is secure any loose items, hang on to the handle bars, and remain seated until the ride comes to a complete stop… or slows down enough for you to tuck and roll and get the hell out of there!  Either way, it’s usually better to adapt to change than to try to stop it.  Trying to stop it would be like trying to paddle a raft up stream on the Amazon River.  It’s just not going to happen.  You’re arms will cramp up and you’ll probably get eaten by snakes and piranhas in the process.  Not a great plan of action…. not to mention very messy.

Change brings ups and downs and both are necessary.  You can’t go way up high without experiencing the lows…. and what go up, must come down.

Mid 2014 to mid 2016 was on the low end for me.  I was living in Georgia at the time.  In the two years I lived there I had three different jobs, three different apartments, I went into debt, drained my savings, and was battling with myself about whether I was doing what I was made to do in life.

Gosh.  It was a tough two years.  I did a lot of growing.  I think my skin got a little tougher, maybe with a few new wrinkles.  I got a little smarter and a little wiser.  I made some great friends, but I probably made some great enemies.  Yes, there were a few highlights and a handful of people I met in GA that I still hold dear to my heart.  I also met my boyfriend while I was in GA.  He is one of the silver linings.  Though those two years were my lowest of lows, they propelled me into the beginning of a major upswing.

I moved to Illinois back in May.    At that point, my life was not secured, I wasn’t hanging on, nor was I sitting down and I was thrown for a loop!  I’m just now getting myself together.  I’m finding a routine in my new environment, the dust is settling, and I finally bought a hair brush.  I mean, if my life can’t be tamed, at least my hair will be!

I keep wanting to find a comfortable groove, but I keep wondering if that is what change is really about?  If it propels us into greater versions of ourselves, then is finding a comfort zone a smart move?  I think welcoming change and the challenges it brings… good or bad… is SO vital.

Life isn’t about becoming comfortable with what changes may come, but becoming comfortable with change itself.