Friday, December 27, 2019

From the Overflow, Nov 20 2019

I need to have a vital connection with You, Jesus, to be fed on truth so that I can live from the overflow, and have something real to give my friends and family and everyone else. And so as not to be vulnerable to temptation or distraction. Please protect me, fight for me, woo me, give me the peace I need to live trusting You. 

I'm Old, Nov 18 2019

I've been dithering, but I meant to write and confess some recent thoughts:
I'm old.
Am I too old? Am I beginning to look middle aged? I'm not worried about that, really. Most days I feel comfortable in my own skin, attractive. But...I've been seeing myself through younger eyes, and I might be a little fusty. Etiolated. What do I have to show for my years? Not money. Not a lot of interpersonal prowess, even. Or confidence traveling, apparently. Alas, when I begin to listen to the accusers, it never ends.

I guess I just want meaning. Love and action. And that's not wrong. It's very humiliating to be a weak human with a divided heart. Please breathe on it and form it whole. Knead it thoroughly. 

Please Help, Nov 18 2019

But really, what do I need?
To be still and know. To worship. To gather all my nourishment and inspiration trustingly from the source. To cast my cares, and take up Your supernatural peace instead. 

Tuesday, November 26, 2019

Every Which Way, October 15 2019

The discount grocery store was very nice today. Miso soup ingredients, beans, shampoo, more tea, grain for hot cereal, maple syrup, potatoes.

A young guy there seemed to be aware of me (it was mutual, although I'm far too old), and when we were actually alone in an aisle, I assiduously avoided acknowledgement and eye contact, which then made me feel brutish and dull.

Because, if I could have just been natural and friendly, I could have helped a young man have a good day. Could have helped him feel magnanimous and significant, like an active participant in society. Instead, I pretended he was invisible, because I felt awkward.

I don't think I'm overdramatizing the effect we have on strangers, by our attitudes, actions, words. Please forgive me. And help me not be such a tomb. I treat every warm feeling as danger. Help me trust You and go forward boldly, and bodily, too. Loving and unafraid. Preaching the Gospel every-which-way. 

*Note to Self*

Nail polish is a pain and you don't like it. Don't be seduced by the pretty colors. Anything other than a fast-drying clear is more trouble than it's worth.
Venture out again at your own risk. Don't say I didn't warn you. 

Tuesday, August 27, 2019

The Seed Has to Split, July 15 2019

Dear Jesus,

You are everything good, and everything I need. The real nutmeat. The presence without which everything would fall apart.

I want to say yes to You, but I feel myself aloof, guarded, wanting guarantees. What next?! Could you convince me I'm mistaken? I'm having nightmares as it is. Particle and wave.

Please show me my dreams. Could I live in one place? Home is so dear, but now and then the sound of my own chewing drives me mad. I have to be cut open and stretched apart to be useful and not rot, now that I am dead finally. The seed has to split for the new tree.

Help, Bother July 15 2019

Help, bother, forgive me.
Feeling discouraged and so wanting to keep a bitter chip on my shoulder.
It's probably a salt and vinegar chip.
I should probably eat it.

Diva, July 14 2019

I felt smothered. I waited to reply. And thought morosely,
I really haven't missed her. 
Am I a diva?

Enough of Me, July 7 2019

I'm in one of those phases. Fazes. Dazes. For days. Want to get tangled up. Go-to comfort. Probably for the best I don't have it, but help me. I want to feel more. I keep wishing something would happen. And also, feeling nothing should. I feel too old and tired for starting over. And too young and wild for settling down. I'm grinning now. There's enough. Enough water in my glass, enough oxygen, enough fish in the sea, enough of me.
Here's to You.

A Hard Time Being Here, June 28 2019

I'm worn out. Feeling like a nap, like privacy, like I need to catch up in every way. I don't feel ready for this. I just keep getting disappointed and annoyed, and being selfish doesn't help, and being a martyr doesn't help, so once again I remember the Gospel and count myself forgiven and accepted, loved and covered and OK.
Please please Lord Jesus don't let me miss this. Miss out on it, squander it. I'm having a hard time being here. I want to blame somebody for it. Please forgive me. Cleanse and heal me.


An Hour Can Topple Me, June 22 2019

Thank You for catching my heart and making it hurt. Thank You for reminding me how stupidly two-faced I am, and how You love and forgive me anyway.

Please keep on, because an hour can topple me. Maybe I need to be facedown, flat, for a while. Just to know You're holding me on the firm dark floor, and I have nothing to prove. 

Friday, August 16, 2019

In the Details, June 20 2019

Thank You for answering my prayer and helping me capture that fly, so annoying in the kitchen. He bumped into my eyebrow and arm and I heard myself bluster, "This is unacceptable!" and felt myself smile. When I turned off other lights he followed me to the bathroom, where I was able to corner and catch him mid-air with a Lysol wipe. Thanks a lot.
Man. Reading L.B. talking about You, about not believing You can be involved in all the little intimate daily ways, intervening, since how could You allow genocide? makes me ask myself how I see You. So much of the reason why I believe in You and love You is because I believe we have a relationship, and that You are constantly involved in every aspect of my life. I come into trouble when I ignore or forget that. Please show me Yourself in this time; I don't want to putter, eating mustard pretzels and watching Disney movies and making a pretty picture or two. I want to be like a force of nature, changing things, helping things grow. 

What I Want, May 28 2019

Is it enough to say,
"I wanted to"?
It is not enough for me.
And so I want a reason
And a rule. It is what I want.
If that is not enough for you,
I am not sorry. 

Showing Up, May 24 2019

Does anyone fast and pray? Does anyone listen into silence, or listen while looking into the face across from them? Who pursues with love, instead of listening to podcasts and reading online articles? Who hangs out on the living room floor at midnight?
I'm not very good at being that person. Even parts of tonight's visit felt perfunctory. But I want to keep showing up, and I want You to use me.
You keep showing me Yourself as I show up. 

Saturday, July 20, 2019

Sharp White Cheddar, May 13 2019

I woke up this morning from a dream that probably took a cue from A's photography (woman, tree). Vaguely voyeuristic.
But the man, significantly, wanted pictures of the woman and not the woman herself. Also, the "pictures" became little half-bitten chunks of sharp white cheddar, and I tried to throw them away discreetly. 

Cheated, May 3 2019

I dreamed this morning about a man giving me his baby to hold. It was a dear baby, a boy, light brown and with a large forehead. But the father really wanted to distract me so he could loot my purse.

Sunday, June 30, 2019

Ketchup, May 1 2019

I woke up early from a bad dream about a slowdown on the highway, due to a probably fatal accident involving buggies. We couldn't see the worst of it, but in absurd dream fashion there was a swipe of literal ketchup on the asphalt. 

The Facts, April 29 2019

The day was tough overall. Sermon mentioning J, shot to death before he reached the island. The debate about whether or not he should have been there at all. Then over lunch, feeling irritated and even repulsed. Thinking about puppets, Creation museums, and a curled moustache.
Of course I was further disgusted with myself.

I had to stop watching TV later, just too ugly. WHY IS IT ALL SO BROKEN? Does all this really fit, God?
Why is it Your beautiful powerful gracious ways can suddenly look so narrow and unfair? Unrealistic? Eternal damnation? Fear of facts? Shouldn't we be able to observe all the data and see You? In the human body, in creation? Please protect and guard my mind, keep me from hiding and rotting there. Truth-seeking means being vulnerable and receptive, not wailing in fear. Let what stands, stand. I want real truth, after all.
I read a few O'Connor stories yesterday, which might seem correlated, but it was surprisingly comforting. A part of me resonates with O'Connor. 

The Unicorn Store, April 26 2019

We watched "The Unicorn Store", which was very weird and yet refreshing, like Wes Anderson, because anything could happen, including something pithy and tender, in all the bizarre and stagey absurdity.
If B is as young as she looks, I hope she keeps going and doesn't give up. "The most grown-up thing you can do is fail at things you really care about".

Also, I liked Virgil a lot. The scenes with him in them were all good. 

Saturday, June 15, 2019

The Same Splayed Tumbling, April 22 2019

Shortly before we stopped in Connecticut a canada goose flew into the side of our borrowed SUV and wiped out under the rows of cars behind us. I looked back and saw him rolling, flopping neck and straggled plumage, knocked off the road to the shoulder. It was horrible. And it brought me back to the cardinals that spring, 14 or so years ago, on the way to the test. The same innocent beauty and complete annihilation by the machine. The same splayed tumbling. 

Three Dreams, April 24th 2019

The first night in Milford I dreamed about women on a big screen drawing on themselves seductively with magic markers. The second night I dreamed the toilets at church were all clogged and overflowing, so before I could use one I needed to clean up (then someone walked by and saw me cleaning and I felt incriminated). Last night I dreamed children in the stadium followed me around, wanting me to be their mother. That was the best dream. 

Friday, May 17, 2019

Rich and Deep and Bold, March 23 2019

I've just been reading in Writing Poems, so engrossed. And remembering things I forgot, and remembering things I still don't remember - terms I can't define.
So many terms...like lanky water birds beating the air and lifting.

I painted very little today, but I think I finished the boring piece and made it interesting. I composed it with colors I picked out intuitively at Home Depot three weeks ago. I realized all the colors where deep and bold. No neutrality, no sweet pastels, no glaring jewel tones. Rich and deep and bold. Even the green was passionate.

I met N today, and explained the painting "Bleeding Hearts". She shared some of her poems and drawings in a carefully stapled book, made of copy and construction paper. They were angsty, the work of a teenager, and I was so proud. And I couldn't do them justice. 

Sunday, April 28, 2019

Earthy Day, March 18 2019

This morning I sneezed and my lips split in two places.
Felt very earthy today. Unspiritual. In the sense of, not feeling motivated to do anything difficult. Not feeling purposeful or particularly hopeful. Begging to be distracted, to procrastinate. But the day was still shot through with grace.
Or punctured and plugged with grace, like garlic in mutton.

I managed to paint in the morning, even with a late start. And class was so sweet. We made good headway. I copied an amaryllis bud with the leftover puddles of paint, and it turned out OK.
I made mujadara, and almost cried over the aroma. I took a walk down to the hollow before dinner. I wrote friends, I remembered the anniversary.

I've been screen-hungry, impatient. But thank You for helping me reach toward You anyway. Please satisfy me on Yourself. Help me live each day with Temperance and Fortitude. 

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Conde Nast, February 12, 2019

That quote by Goethe yesterday was like a punch in the gut. About learning to love what must be done, not looking to discover what we love. Can that be true? I believe You're showing me and helping me to pursue what I love, to be who You made me to be. But I could take that too far, couldn't I?
I could decide the whole of existence was about doing what I love and staying interested, and I could begin to view life like a Conde Nast magazine. 

Spent, February 10 2019

After we dropped him off at the airport, I was spent. Thanks for helping me even in my gathering sullenness and displeasure, and for helping me get away for a while, comatose on the bed. Then I read. I browsed Facebook to mixed benefit. Reading O'Connor was probably helpful over all; her characters are so relatable and repellant. Mom made up the rest of the lamb, with stewed turnips and carrots and green beans and onions. A tasty dinner helped.

My life is not about me, it's not mine to control, and my self-realization and pleasure and dreams are not the point. Yet I have been made with particular strengths and weaknesses, particular needs, unique dreams and passions.
I should not neglect those. I should search my heart. I should use whatever gifts God has given me. I should be prepared and alert.
I should do everything in love.
I want this year to be marked by love. My life must be marked by dangerous love. Please prepare me. I refuse to die cold. 

Haiku for Omnivores, February 10 2019

TONIGHT WE ATE A LAMB
I RECALLED IT WAS A LAMB
WE WERE WEARING RED

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Haiku for a Snow Day, January 29 2019

YOU KNOW WHAT'S IN NOW?
COTTON. ALL THE TREES HAVE IT.
SNOW DAY FOR THE WIN.

Murica, January 29 2019

I live here, and I take a lot of things for granted, but I get fed up. I find so many things unconscionable. It would be difficult to live with a person like that...especially in the States. I've already admitted I don't want the American Dream! Will I be a pain to live with? Dealing with guilt, with cognitive dissonance? Preaching at everyone, judging people who, in their own minds, are living normal reasonable responsible lives?
Where are the prophets? Who will shake us up? Am I here to be comfortable, or to pour myself out?

Oh God. Keep me, keep me looking at You. You care about justice for the oppressed. You love the poor. You are their advocate. You bless those who give their lives to serve the unwanted. You want all of us. You tear down princes from their thrones, and lift up the humble. You turn our weakness into strength. You desire truth in the innermost parts. You give wisdom. You reward those who wait for You. You move mountains when we have faith, are obedient. You do not want anyone to perish, but all to live. 

American Football, January 21 2019

I did get invested in the game, and the last quarter (into overtime) was so intense I had to remind myself to breathe. I wanted the Chiefs to win, but the conclusion was pretty satisfactory anyway. A really good game. Tough calls by refs, but I agreed with most of them.

I'd watch more football if I cared like this, but it wouldn't be good for me. It's such a strange world. And once you buy into it, you forget a lot of other realities. You forget how messed up it is. You forget the shameful amounts of money. The toxic masculinity. The sex trafficking. The brain damage. The beer commercials - or at least, you forget what they're trying to sell you. You get a little brainwashed, feel a little more American. 

Love Letter: The Hornet's Nest, January 20 2019

I took a walk in the wind when I got home. I looked at the hornet's nest perched high in the naked branches of the tulip poplar, across from the cul-de-sac, and thought about the love and respect it symbolized.
As I approached, it blew down and smashed in a damp papery heap in the middle of the road before me. It was rather dramatic. I nudged it off into the grass, and tripped along laughing. 

Lara, Possibly a Dream, January 20 2019

I dreamed of a hub, like a subway station, with entrances on many streets. Inside were a church and a nursing home. I left my purse and coat and things in an empty room in the medical ward, and wandered and got lost. I stumbled across the church, a service just beginning. I heard a few words from the preacher and saw tidy, white, middle-class families filing in for something edifying. I thought how shallow and comfortable and blind this Christianity was, how disconnected from realities and suffering, the mess and need in the very same building. These people were here to be satisfied, to chuckle at jokes from the pulpit and be clean and reassured. The preacher was a young, pleased, popular man.

I kept walking, looking for my things. Finally I found the room, only now it was inhabited by a balding, withering, sparky woman. She had glowing bronze skin and dark eyes, and her name was something like Lara. I was hesitant to intrude, especially when I saw my belt was behind her head on the bed. But she beckoned me in, relieved to be rid of the foreign things in her room. I retrieved my purse and coat from the floor. But I was abashed, embarrassed to leave too quickly. So I started talking to with her. A friend joined me and sat beside the bed to read aloud from a book, and I took Lara's shimmering gingerbread feet, small as a child's, and rubbed them. 

Sunday, January 27, 2019

Eucatastrophe, January 19 2019

Everything can look all wrong, utterly hopeless,
and one act of love, of tenacious love and audacious hope,
of grace,
can change everything.

Don't let me forget this.
Help me to keep holding on, holding out.
In hindsight things seem obvious and effortless.

Can't Take This, January 19 2019

I can't take this much longer.

Can I?

People are rather quick to say, "I can't do this", I feel.

I guess it all depends on what we're killing in order to do something. Sacrifices are always required, though we don't always value what we sacrifice.

Temperance, January 14 2019

Remind me of the lesson I learned about alcohol?
I once thought, if you started drinking, you lost control.
Slippery slope. Chaos and disaster.

Show me the virtue of temperance, and its possibility.

And remind me what faith is.

Rarely are we given clarity; we're given faith. 
We may be given faith. 
We may be given all we need to go on.


Pretty Saviors, January 13 2019

O God.
God, I am tied to You, and I can't help it, but I am afraid of reaching out and feeling nothing. Help me to reach out anyway.

I don't like our American god. I don't like "God Friended Me" (although I watched less than 20 minutes...). You are the God in the furnace with us. So don't let me be afraid of our pretty saviors.

And also let me rage and weep with You over the horrors we commit "in Your Name", or expecting Your acquiescence.
Your justice. Your mercy.

You are jealous for Your Name. Only let me fall into the hands of God. 

Spring is Real, is Real, is Real, January 12 2019

God, I want to be ready to die.
I'm not.
My seeds are feeling choked. What am I really living for?
How can I make it easier, possible, for people to know You?
How can I know You better?
I need You. Without mediation.
Christ, I need You.

I guess two things, beauty and suffering, may be the fastest conductors.

What can I do today, to hear You and be with You and rest?
How do You want to speak to me? What do You want to say?
What does my spirit need?
Can I trust you to fill the voids that nothing touches yet?

Can I trust You to zing in the synapses, to drum in the diaphragm?
To glow in the solar plexus? To shoot out like moonbeams from my fingertips and the ends of my hair? (Thanks, George Bailey).

Spring is real, is real, is real. It is only spring, and it passes, but it is real as winter. 

Revive Me Again, January 11 2019

We need You. You want us and will have us. Take us. Continue to pry my fingers loose from what I idolize. Relationships. Respect. Things. Security. Comfort. Pride. Allure. Control. Privacy. Beauty. Religion.

I want the real You. And You want the real me. Help me to believe that is enough. I am a naked infant kicking about in my blood, and everything I have is from You. It's all Yours. Cleanse and cover me. Don't let me neglect or abuse what You've given me. May all of it point straight to You.
Please order my life in such a way that it wouldn't make sense if You didn't exist. Let my life ooze grace. Let it drip life. Real life. Virtue. I want the virtues. Please revive me again. I know You are capable of doing so much more than I give You credit for.
Please open my eyes. Please help me to love like never before. Bring people into my life, or deeper into my life, that I need to learn from, serve, and pursue truth and vulnerability with. Please stir up my passion again. Make me willing to suffer with You, for You.
You will.


Sunday, January 20, 2019

Haiku for a Cold, January 10 2019

HAVING A COLD STINKS.
BLEARY EYES, ACHES, AND MUCUS
DRIPPING DOWN MY LIPS.

Nothing to Prove, January 8 2019

Privilege and brilliance and the sense of being conspicuous does something to you, something I can't quite reconcile myself to.

Remind me I have nothing to prove? Remind me to give Your love to every tired hurting confused broken person I meet? Every bitter, hard, numb, obnoxious person? Every fool and reject and addict and slob? Everyone who seems, or feels, unlovable?

Thank You for loving me NOT because I'm smart or brave or beautiful or gifted or charming. Thank You for loving Your creatures, Your world. 

Not to My Guns, to My Garden, January 1 2019

I loved watching L paint today. We copied a foal from my horse calendar. The strange liminal pleasure of watching her paint green grass almost made me ill.

Thank You for days like this, that somehow matter in spite of everything. In spite of not feeling correctly or acting perfectly, or knowing what's up. You speak in so many ways. Please keep speaking. Help me remember what I know. To stick to the truth. Not to my guns, to my garden.

Please help me shed and repair; please renew my mind, my hope, my drives and commitments. Don't let me moon around. 

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Haiku for Courage, December 28 2018

Why does my car smell
like catfood and bravery?
Nerves and bread and rain.


Horses, December 26 2018

I bought a calendar of horses. I surprised myself. They caught my interest more than flowers, the sea, puppies and kittens, etc.

Beauty. Freedom. Spirit. Sensitivity. Connection to the earth.
I really might come to love horses. Loads of people I love, love horses.
Horses scared me and felt cliche at the same time, for a while. I think I just need to befriend an amazing horse. 

Did I Make You Cry on Christmas Day? December 25 2018

I didn't sleep super well, but I got up before my alarm. We opened stockings and ate cornbread, I helped Dad peel apples, and it felt blissful until it felt snippy and passive-aggressive in the kitchen.
I painted, and maybe finished.

Please help everyone to be extra gentle and kind today. I think we're upset in part because we're trying to bless and impress each other, striving for perfection, and that sure doesn't make everybody happy and serene.

Here I am, needing to be Mary again. Help me to look at You and love You first, so I won't be touchy. Please make this home a safe haven. Make my heart a safe haven.



Title: Sufjan Stevens

Bada Bing, Bada Boom, December 24 2018

Let's write ridiculous words. Bugaboo. Toodle-oo. Rutabaga. Trombone. Dunderhead. Kalamazoo. Billabong. Curmudgeon. Hoopla. Incorrigible. Cumberbatch. Cummerbund. Hootenanny. Kerfuffle. Fluffernutter. Bada bing, bada boom. 

A Trick, December 22 2018

I painted more on J & A's portrait today. I guess it was progress, but they look pretty bad. So I'm letting it rest. I feel like beating myself up for painting so long, or at all, today. I tried to convince myself it would be 30 minutes. It was, of course, about 2 hours. Is this a good trick or a dirty low down trick? Is it important to trust myself? Do I need to make rules and keep them, or is this more about permission?
The first son said to his father, "I will not", but later he went and worked in his field. The second son said, "I will go", but didn't. Which son did the will of his father?

To tell. them. Truth., December 22 2018

It gives me a sense of wellbeing to see all the fat squirrels in the yard.
They are ready. They've been fed.

But, God,
the E's must be devastated right now. Please please please hold them. Speak through something, everything, to tell. them. Truth. Don't let Satan turn this into a vortex. Pour in Your blood. Pour in healing. Pour in forgiveness, desperation, hope, comfort, peace. Communion with You. Connection with others. Speak the Gospel here. Redeem, please, Lord Jesus.
Thank You for counting the hairs on our heads. For not letting anything slip. Don't let me become small and tight and fake. Please keep bringing me back to the REAL. To You on silky black nights, back roads and watery reflections.
The breathless proximity to death. The breathless proximity to heaven.
I glimpsed the moon tonight. It is almost full. Fill my mouth. Fill me.
Squeeze me. 

And Ellipses, December 17 2018

Please, Lord, don't let me get so wrapped up in my own performance.
Let me be present.

Oh, the puns are killing me.

Oh, the hyperbole hurts.
Oh, the alliteration aches.
Oh, I better stop here,
because I could go on and on, and ellipses...


Monday, January 7, 2019

What is it? December 12 2018

You gave Your Son, Your life. How will You not also graciously give me all things? Whatever I need to live in a way that honors You. Whatever I need to know You better. Whatever I need to survive.
I think I will wear my plaid dress today. And choose gratitude. And choose joy. And choose to believe in your abundance, because You can bring money from a fish's mouth. And choose to let you wring me, drop by drop, because that's what I asked to be: used. And because something about that sounds like Your beautiful holey hands holding me.
I don't actually want to be independent. (Freudian slip! I wrote "dependent" first). I want to have to ask You for bread. I want to wake every morning to manna, in wonder. What is it? This is my body, broken for You. Give us today our daily bread. Create in me a clean heart, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. 

Sprout, December 10 2018

My efforts were imperfect today, and yet things worked out. Please keep me trusting you. I do feel discouraged about money and damnation and romance and winter and bickering. Please pour Your soft soft water over everything. Make everything sprout and grow. Help me see what You are doing. Help me live into each messy complex day. 

Mourning & Feasting, December 8 2018

It was a leaden weight in the conversation. No one felt comfortable eating, there wasn't much to say. But the sweet thing was, we all leaned in. We all cared, and it was OK. Because, what else do you do if you've lived through hell? Pretend?

Ignorance, December 6 2018

Please keep me looking at You and not fretting.
Please keep making me laugh.
Please make my heart strong and humble by what I suffer.
Help me to know You. Help me to learn obedience.
Help me to learn wisdom.
Ignorance is not bliss, but it is sometimes Hobbiton. 

Wednesday, January 2, 2019

Trail of Blood, November 27 2018

I followed a trail of blood most of the way home from C's. Like some animal was hit and caught under the truck (who else could be oblivious?) and was dragged for miles and miles. I kept expecting it to end. It was spattered in places, then it slowly thinned into a faint line. It went on and on. I didn't see if or when it ended, because I turned off 23 onto Hoover Road. Poor creature.

Also, what am I dragging along without realizing it, leaving a trail of blood?


Letter to Self, November 24 2018

Hey Sweet.

Don't be afraid of being sweet. The world needs that. Take a deep breath. You take a lot seriously, and that's good, but don't let it paralyze you. Remember Mary. Remember what she chose, what was better. Sit at Jesus' feet and listen.

Pray. Love well. Don't lose hope - you will be blown away by the provision of God. Yes, monetary. But also relational, and spiritual. You will see lives transformed. You will love more deeply than you think possible right now. You will be given strength for every new day, every necessary endeavor.

Be humble. Be teachable. Don't close off or get proud. Your friends are there for you. Your family is there for you. Even strangers are, sometimes. And God is, always with you, your Emmanuel.

Keep creating, keep basking in beauty. Keep finding silence. Keep learning practical skills. Keep traveling. Keep open to new people, new experiences, and to the hard work and dedication of commitment to the familiar places and people.

"Don't try to swallow the ocean, keep doing one day." Don't give up on romance. Speak truth in love. Be an encourager. Be real. Dance. Get outside. Be a mother to anyone who needs one.



Quote: "One Day", Christa Wells