Time

It's the last day of January already. One of my hopes for the year was that maybe, just maybe, it could go by a little bit more slowly. Perhaps it comes with age, but it just seems like time ticks by so quickly and there is little I can do to keep it from unfolding in front me as fast as it does.

I've been hopeful that more days could feel longer and slower and less full. With more walks outside, more careful meals planned out and eaten all together as a family at the dinner table. More coffee and conversation with friends and more time given to develop deeper and richer friendships. More playtime, more reading, more writing - more things I just enjoy doing. And where weekends are full of the purposeful kind of activity that still allows time for rest and relaxing and not just errand running and laundry washing and church going.

And already the first month of the year has drawn to an end. And really, the first month has looked like I was hoping for it too - it's been the more I was hoping for.
But even though my days haven't felt hectic or full, time still seems to go by just as quickly. I have no control over it, no matter what I intend or purpose or plan for.

It's interesting how I still try and grasp for control all around me. Even the most intangible of things - time.

On parenting the emotions

Parenting is nothing short of interesting these days.

Tommy is learning that sometimes, it takes a little bit more time to receive something he has asked for than what he would like - and that having to wait makes him feel angry. And when he experiences any displeasure about something we've asked of him or he has to do something he doesn't want to, he freely tells us how he feels about it.

Basically, I am the proud parent of a little boy who knows what it feels like to be angry and knows how to vocalize that particular emotion quite well.The other day I asked him to pick up some toys at Oma's house, as we were fixing to leave, and he didn't want to. When he did start picking up the toys, he declared to us, "Tommy not happy anymore!"

Children have a way of expressing unedited emotions. And in some ways, it feels like this beautiful thing because they haven't learned yet it's not "nice" or "appropriate" to be nasty. And they haven't been shamed into believing that they have to cover up what they are feeling because their emotions are just too much for others around them. Kids react and how they truly feel shows - in sometimes very loud, screechy ways.

And please don't get me wrong - I'm not condoning bad behavior or saying it's right either. We need to respect others and speak to others with kindness. And that is most definitely how Todd and I want to raise our son. But maybe there's a balance to strive for in teaching our kids about emotions and how we respond to things too. That our disappointments, frustrations and hurts can still be expressed - but maybe in healthier ways? And that feeling - no matter what that feeling is - won't be met with condemnation either.

Even to this day, when my emotions feel messy and they start to leak out around me, I am often met with responses like "Keep smiling!" or "God is in control of this, so you should really give this to him and focus on Jesus." (Not said by everyone in my life - but a few).

Which how it hits me is, "You feel big and out of control and I can't handle how huge your emotions are, so maybe if I say something cheery or spiritual it will shut you up and I can feel comfortable around you again - I hate when you make me feel uncomfortable."

It feels true that most of the time, how another person expresses their feelings and emotions about life, ends up triggering our own feelings. Feelings that we usually try to keep locked away in neat and tidy packages - because well, it's just not appropriate to act or respond any other way. When someone else's anger, sorrow, or hurt rubs off on us, it's like it activates our own places of anger, sorrow or hurt that we have kept under wraps. And that is what feels unsettling for us.

There are many times as I observe Tommy's very large and ugly reactions to things, where I can see how and why it triggers me. It's a common conversation in our house for Todd and I to have. What are we feeling and what is going on for us in response to how our son is behaving at the moment?

Like I said, parenting is interesting these days. I am finding myself in this in-between place of wanting my son to act like a calm, normal, civilized little person - and then wanting him to be alive, feeling and having the freedom to express his heart too.

What--iffing

For a long time I played the "what if" game with myself.

You know that game right? The game where you imagine you had made a different choice instead of the other which seemed to hold something that you would have never imagined for your life. At times, I've lost myself in the what-if cloud of questions. The things I wondered about haunted me and brought me deep sorrow. I used to what-if myself into depression or a cycle of violence against myself wishing anything else could be my reality instead of the one I found myself in.

I used to have a lot of what-ifs.

What if my parents had stayed together?
What if I had decided to visit my Aunt in Africa after high school rather than going to college right away?
What if I had never met Aaron?
What if I had stayed there with him? Would we both be dead, or would he still be alive?
What if I had never stopped singing?
What if I had given him a chance back then?
What if I had never met him?

And there are more.

But I used to sit and obsess and wallow in regret for all of the places I felt like I had to what-if about because where I was now, wasn't where I had wanted to be. And maybe if I had just made one different choice somewhere along the line, there would be no more what-ifs.

A friend told me once that no matter what happens in life, there will always be what-ifs. There will always be paths left untaken. There will always be choices that we never made that we won't know the outcomes of. If we knew every option and where every road led to, it would probably make life a lot duller and leaving little room for surprise or adventure.

The temptation to still ask that question and wonder about a choice I made and where it would have taken me, is still there. It feels easy to want to go down that road and it's usually when I'm feeling sorry for myself or not wanting to be honest with my own heart about why I'm even wanting to imagine something different. Maybe I will always be inclined to wonder, what-if, about my past - because it feels painful and hard and tainted. There are always mistakes I wish I could un-do and always places to wonder, what-if, about.

There are other what-ifs though. I've asked myself these questions too - and maybe these what-ifs are kinder to the longings of my heart. I cannot change anything in my past. But I do get to decide what life looks like now.

What if I choose to respond another way, instead of the way I have before?
What if I stopped believing that I'm a failure?
What if I threw out all of the labels I've carried around?
What if I decided to trust God with this?
What if this has a different ending than I am fearing?
What if I really believe what God says is true about me?

Maybe it's okay to what-if ourselves when we are moving towards hope instead of sitting in regret about things we can't change.

I'm sure there might always be a piece of my heart that what-ifs and wonders about my past and some of the choices I made. But it feels good to feel present and living in the here and the now and moving forward instead of feeling lost in looking back.

I've Been

I've been feeling quiet.

I've been thinking about how much I'm missing winter and how odd that is considering it's my least favorite season. But it's a season, and I think I enjoy the predictability of change and how not having a winter wasn't what I expected.

I've been considering that perhaps most relationships are restorable and redeemable. And how I've never operated out of that belief until now.

I've been enjoying mornings more than I used to. And feeling disappointed if I've slept too long and missed some of it's early morning light and quiet.

I've been seeing myself move forward. And maybe because I spent so much time looking back, I'm finally able to go in the direction that I've always wanted to.

I've been watching my son use his imagination and helping him cultivate it. Like how he made a whole drum set out of two hampers, an ice chest, a box and plastic bowls. It was epic and awesome.

I've been amazed at how love grows and deepens, even when you can't see it. Somehow you just know that it's more than it used to be.

I've been looking at where I feel angry and bitter. At where I stay silent and where I want to speak hurtful words.

I've been more hopeful and curious. And kinder to myself with a lot more consistency.

I've been writing more than I used to. And reading too.

I've been wanting for more of God. Taking more time to read and pray and journal and I'm feeling the impact of what spending time with Him on a more regular basis does for my heart and my day.

I've been more at rest.

Where have you been?

Sounds

Rain softly hitting the roof and the windows. And being alone so it's quiet enough to hear every drop of a rain shower.

Tommy's big laughs. The kind that is so contagious that gets me laughing too. I'm pretty sure his laughter is what joy sounds like.

Ocean waves. Wave after wave crashing one on top of the other, making a beautiful noise like an endless song. I love that it's never still and always going.

Auntie Laura's singing voice. Fluid and calm, like water.

The many crackles and snaps of a wood burning fire.

Fingers moving along the frets of an acoustic guitar. It makes a particular sound and anytime I hear it, I see my dad's face no matter who is playing.

Cold fronts blowing through trees, shaking leaves to the ground.

Music. All music - loud, soft, hard, jazzy, old, new, classical, funky, sweet, angry, sad, worshipful. How it all resonates with different parts of my soul.

Autumn leaves crunching underneath my feet.

Pouring hot coffee into my favorite mug. How it sounds like comfort, warmth and cozy.

Tick-tocks of the many clocks at my Grammy's house. Time passes by more slowly when you can hear the seconds go by in the stillness sitting on her sofa with her sweet face staring back in to your own.

And the breath of a new baby. When you are holding new life in your arms, when only a week ago, he was tucked away safely in his mother's womb. Little grunts and sighs and yawns and quiet coo's of a tiny one, newly born.How watching him sleep and listening to him softly breathe in and out feels like the best thing you've done all day long.

I held my new nephew in my arms last night for the first time. Newborns make the best sounds and Cameron is no exception - he makes excellent newborn sound effects. They made me want to smile and cry and sigh all at the same time.

Today, I'm feeling grateful to be able to hear and listen and be moved by the sounds around me.

The Heart

I used to hate my heart for how it felt things that I wished it wouldn't feel. I hated how I couldn't seem to control it. And for how deceiving it was. Where it betrayed me and where I wished it wouldn't have loved so strongly and how I couldn't help it. And when it wouldn't stop hurting even when I tried to will it to heal somehow.

The heart is a curious thing. If my heart is this complex and full, how much more is God's full of mystery.

The hatred I've had for it (and myself for that matter) isn't there anymore. I even publicly wear a symbol of embracing myself and my heart because along the way I learned to embrace it and who God created me to be. My heart is what makes me uniquely me. God designed me to feel things deeply and I've come to be grateful for that.

Over the weekend I was reminded how big our hearts are. I felt a range of emotions in a matter of days that came in waves of intensity. Some in softer, quieter trickles of feeling that I may not have noticed unless I was paying attention.

Anger, forgiveness, joy, deep longing, heartache, sadness, thrill, excitement, jealousy, spite, peace, happiness, disappointment, frustration, love, tenderness, sorrow, grief, anticipation, elation, celebration.

I felt it all. It didn't crush me. I didn't buckle underneath the weight of emotions or feeling. Nor did I numb out with food or other vices in order to keep from feeling it all either. I have lived life for a long time allowing the things I felt to take me out. And not that they won't ever take me out again, but I've realized that it's possible to let feelings come and let them go again without doing damage to myself or keeping me in isolation for days or weeks at at time.

I'm in a new place of trusting God more with my heart more than I have before. Trusting Him in new ways somehow makes me less afraid to feel what comes. And if I can trust Him with my heart, than maybe I can fully trust His.

Snippets

I've been wanting to stretch myself as a writer. Putting words on to paper (or generating them on a computer screen), is one of my greatest passions. So I'm pushing myself a little bit. Thinking outside the box. I'm gleaning some new inspiration, reading more and hoping to put more thought and purpose behind the words I capture and write down. I'm hoping some of that shows up here.

We haven't had much of a winter in San Antonio. It feels like spring outside yet the trees and grass are dead and I'm not "allowed" to wear some of the more colorful things in my wardrobe. I'm not a big fan of winter, but I'm finding myself missing exceptionally chilly days and reasons to drink hot chocolate.

After this weekend I will be officially done with end of year tax forms for both jobs and I couldn't be more thrilled that all of that is over.

I said goodbye to my cousin on Wednesday night a she heads to DC on Sunday. Our time together was precious and meaningful. I'm aware of how empty my couch will feel without her there on a regular basis to stop by for one of our long talks. I'm still letting that goodbye soak in and I'm curious about my lack of tears.

My "baby" sister became a licensed driver yesterday. She turns 18 this August - EIGHTEEN. Other than feeling old, I'm quite proud. I've been anticipating her movement into adulthood. Maybe since I've been a "grown-up" for quite some time now, I'm looking forward to what it could look like to have an adult relationship with my sister.

My step-sister Chelsea is currently at the hospital in labor with her second baby boy. I can hardly wait to meet him and smell his new baby smell and let my heart feel what it feels when I hold newly born babies.

A friend of mine has been in the adoption process for several months. The birth mom is having the baby today and she and her husband should take home the baby girl this weekend that they have been praying to hold in their arms for years. I've had a significant amount of tears about all of this and once again I'm curious about my heart and why it's feeling this so deeply.

As for today....I need to go to the grocery store and paint my toenails. I want to do something fun with my little boy And I will probably write and drink some more coffee and prepare a scrumptious dinner for my husband. It's a good day to be feeling, present, alive and curious.

Standing Still

Sometimes I feel like I'm just standing still while watching everyone pass me by. Their lives, their movement, the calls on their life that take them to new places.

I'm left here firmly planted with roots running deep. And though parts of my heart and life move that never moved before, watching others pick up and go leaves me feeling as though I'm never really moving and never really going and maybe I missed something. Suddenly, I begin to feel more stuck than settled.

Several friends have gone. I see their faces and can hear their laughter and remember a hundred memories as I recall who they are and what took them away. Tonight, I say farewell to my cousin. Another friend will be gone by the spring.

Goodbyes are hard. They feel easier somehow when you know they should be leaving and it's good for them to go. But then they feel hardest when you know that maybe you're still supposed to be where you are too - left in the known and the familiar and the same. It's difficult watching others begin a brand new chapter of their life that takes them on a grand adventure outside of the place you've always lived life together. Their adventures take them away from my own familiar way of living and doing. It changes my normal and I'm left in the same place, and then I'm left with less because all I have is the void and the space that only they filled. All of this leaves me disrupted and unsettled as though I was the one packing up and moving away.

It struck me the other day that Todd and I have lived in our house longer than we've lived in any other place together. The carpet is worn and some things look tired and nothing is crispy and fresh anymore. It's home though and I'm happy it's home. Yet part of me wishes it was our turn to be taken somewhere new too. For home to take on a new form.

I've always wondered what it would feel like to be the one that was leaving. I wonder how it would feel for others to be saying goodbye to us. To be the guests at the going away party. To be the one seated in the chair as others prayed over before we headed off into the unknown. Those things feel intangible and hard to imagine.

I'm grateful for home. For permanence, for routine, for family close by, for long Texas summers and the comforts familiarity brings. And I long for more. I long to be moved, to change, to go. I long for newness and the glorious discomforts of being stretched by changing surroundings and circumstances.

Our roots aren't uprooted...they remain. I'm curious what new chapters of life might look like when so much stays the same.

Number Two?

The question seems to be coming a lot more frequently now. Probably because Tommy is two-and-a-half next week and maybe because I will be THIRTY-ONE in March. The question often unsettles me when I've just come to peace about it and I've realized I have to go to God every time I feel unsettled - because I'm not sure where else to go with the question either.

Probably, because I'm often asking the same question of Him.

"So, is there going to be a number two? Any more kids for you? Are you planning on having another? Are you going to give Tommy a little sister or a little brother? Are you hoping for another baby? You can't have just one - when are you going to get started on another baby?"

Maybe you've even wondered....is there going to be a number two?

The question is often asked as if I have complete control over the outcome. As if it's entirely up to me if or when we will or we won't have more kids. The people closest to me ask in the kindest ways possible...."Are you hoping for more? Where are you in wanting for more children?" Regardless of how it is asked though, the asking feels hard still.

I've tried to be as gracious with myself as I am with others in responding to their questions about whether or not there are more kids in our future. Because the real answer is simply: I don't know.

It's a complicated matter. There's the sex part of course - how the baby is made in the first place. And there's my crazy body whose PCOS numbers seem to go up and down. It is very possible that we could have another baby. And it's very possible that we couldn't too. And then there's God. As I see it, a lot of it is up to His design.

At the end of the day, I do feel at peace about it. I've come to a point where I've realized that God really does have what's best for me in mind. And I really and truly want His best for me, even if His best does not include another baby.

Just last night, Todd and I caught ourselves dreaming about a second baby. We talk about names and what it would be like to have another boy. Or what it would be like to have a girl and what would I do with the nursery and can we settle on a name for her? It feels both good and painful to dream there. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be.

Honestly, I am okay here. I am more okay than I thought I would be - even watching friends go on to have their own number two's. I'm really at peace and rest here. I am enjoying life with my one. I make special note to enjoy everything with Tommy because there is a very real possibility it's the only time I might ever do any of this. I am aware of my hopes and longings for another baby, a girl specifically. I cry when I need to cry about it, but I don't spend my days and nights consumed with wondering what will happen if there is really never another. It's where I am it. It's where God has brought me to.

I suppose as time goes on, I will change as will my heart about the issue. It may feel harder later if I don't get pregnant again anytime soon. I may not feel peace or at rest about it later. That is also true.

But today, I'm okay. Today I'm waiting and hoping and resting. Today I'm a working mom and enjoying my very chatty and active two year old. Today I am playing with fire trucks and sitting a big boy on the potty. Today, I am only dreaming about girly nurseries and kissing tiny feet in footie pajamas again. Today, I just don't know what the future holds or if there will ever be a number two. And today, I am okay with that.

Change the world

It has been my experience to encounter few people with passion and fervor for government and politics. A lot of people have opinions and knowledge, yet aside from voting, there are really a select few who feel called to go make needed changes for our country.

I happen to be related to one of those people though who has passion and fervor and wants to be a part of seeing this country make changes. My cousin Anna is heading of to Washington D.C. this coming Sunday for an internship there. And no telling where it will all lead, but it promises hope to open the door for a bigger something in her future.

Saturday night was an evening to honor her, pray for her and celebrate her before her departure - in complete patriotic style of course.We began the night in darkness. Life can feel dark. Often times the things going on in our country and our world can feel dark too. And sometimes, things inside of us can feel dark and hopeless. As we all went around the room giving Anna words of encouragement and vision for the next six months of life, we each lit a candle, watching the room come to life and light slowly. The time was precious and sweet and very tear-filled as all of us present not only had impact on Anna's life - but recognized where she has had impact on ours.
Anna is a world-changer. It was an overriding theme all night mentioned by several women there. She is most definitely one of those people who is called to more in this specific place. It has been quite something to watch this dream slowly unfold for my cousin-friend.
The night left me feeling filled with emotion. Pride, sadness, excitement, hope, curiosity, longing. Her absence leaves another hole in my life, and yet I see where it's time for her to go and time for me to feel that void.
The three of us cousins grew up together. We grew up closer than most cousins might get to. Our closeness is just a result of how God knit our stories together and how He continues to. I am humbled at how God has weaved our lives into the other. The tapestry of my life has Anna colored threads in it because of how her beauty has touched my life - where her words and tears have had impact on my story. I couldn't be more proud of the woman she has become and the woman she is still becoming today.

Go Anna. Go change the world. You have already changed ours.

When words are few

My week has been full. My heart has felt full. And it's hard to capture anything cohesive to write out. It makes me sad when things get to me and those keep me from writing - I love to write. Sometimes life seems to squeeze out the parts of me I wish it wouldn't.

I only have a few words of what my week has looked like and I'm hoping the later part of this weekend will provide me with some rest and quiet.

Rheumatologist.

Bloodwork. X-rays. Fun times.

Hope.

Healing.

Disappointment.

No internet at work.

Tax forms.

Unexpected bills in the mail.

Going to the gym.

Vegetables.

Planning a party.

Toddler sized meltdowns.

Guilt.

Honest conversation.

Real friends.

Holding things in.

Conflict.

Resolution.

Heavy, heavy traffic.

Frustration.

"Keep smiling."

Another friend moving away.

Lonely.

Needing more stillness.

Blah.

Work chaos.

Tommy caught shaving. Oh Lord.

Errands, busyness.

Winter. Cold. Wanting for warmth.

Aching, longing, waiting.

Friday.

*sigh*

Tommy Conversations

Conversations with a two-and-a-half year old are the best. Case in point - this morning:

"I gotta go work mom and make a thousan dollars."

"You do?! What are you going to buy with your thousand dollars?" I ask.

"Um, diet coke and fen fies."

I laugh out loud and he says, "You cack me up!"

Also, he woke up one morning and suddenly was the king of making sound effects. He can make car crashing noises better than anyone I know. How do boys pick this stuff up?

Either way, I love it all.

Happy Tuesday.

All of Me

My heart feels heavy today. And it's not just the cold and the rain and the gray skies, though they feel fitting in a way. But my heart feels heavy when it's holding on to things.

A friend's marriage falling apart. Another who's husband has had something else show up on a scan and it could mean more cancer or more surgery - more pain for their family. Conflict in friendships that remains unresolved for now. And then own things that just remain unwritten here.

Over the weekend I heard a song that spoke to my heart and left me in tears. I will always love how music has the ability to reach into my soul and give words to things my heart just can't explain on its own. For today, I only have this to share. It's my prayer to God. It's the prayer for my marriage. It's the prayer of my heart.

I want to give all of me. It's where I'll start....

Go here to listen.

All of Me - by Matt Hammitt

Afraid to love, something that could break
Could I move on if you were torn away?
And I'm so close to what I can't control
I can't give you half my heart and pray He makes you whole

You're gonna have all of me
You're gonna have all of me
You're worth every falling tear
You're worth facing any fear
You're gonna know all my love
Even if it's not enough
Enough to mend our broken hearts
But giving you all of me is where I'll start

I won't let sadness steal you from my arms
I won't let pain keep you from my heart
I'll trade the fear of all that I could lose
For every moment that I'll share with you

You're gonna have all of me
You're gonna have all of me
You're worth every falling tear
You're worth facing any fear
You're gonna know all my love
Even if it's not enough
Enough to mend our broken hearts
But giving you all of me is where I'll start

Heaven brought you to this moment, it's too wonderful to speak
You're worth all of me, you're worth all of me
So let me recklessly love you, even if I bleed
You're worth all of me, you're worth all of me

You're gonna have all of me
You're gonna have all of me
You're worth every falling tear
You're worth facing any fear
You're gonna know all my love
Even if it's not enough
Enough to mend our broken hearts
But giving you all of me is where I'll start

Movement

The parking lot was a familiar one. I've been here before, it's just been a long, long time. I gave my pony-tail one last check in the mirror, grabbed my water bottle and headed for the double doors.

Walking in I wondered if anyone noticed me. Or judged me. After all, it was the first Monday of the new year. I'm just another one of those people trying to make a new years resolution. I made eye contact with no one, and maybe even hung my head in shame a little bit. Something about being there felt embarrassing. As if I should be humiliated by being there.

Making my way up the stairs, I kept my eyes to the ground. Everything was still where it was a few years ago.

I made my way to my own spot, settling my keys and water into their place. Feeling nervous, not wanting to attract attention to myself. Wanting to blend in and disappear at the same time. But I got moving. My legs pushed the pedals and may arms held on to the handles that move back and forth. It feels like running, but it feels better. It's easier and smoother and kinder to my knees.

The movement felt good. And the movement hurt.

Taking in my surroundings with one deep breath after another. The men wearing tight sleeveless shirts beefing up their muscles were still there. The girls in their sports bras and tiny shorts were there too - one right next to me. The other people there clearly there for the same reason I was. I tried to focus on myself - what I was feeling, the pace I was keeping.

Music. I need music. Will definitely be asking for some kind of iPod for my birthday this year. I can't work out without music. More thoughts ran through my mind about work and Todd. I prayed some too.

Before I knew it, 35 minutes had passed. And I felt good. I felt strong. I felt relieved and refreshed. The movement felt good. And the movement had hurt. The movement was good for me, and even though it had been awhile, my body felt like it always had after a workout.

I walked back down the stairs, sweat still dripping down my forehead, water half gone. But without feeling the shame. Holding my head up high.

Movement.

My prayer for this year is to move. In body, mind and spirit. I hope to see and experience much movement in several areas of my life this year. And for God to move in me and for me to move with Him.

*This post is dedicated to my friend Trish. Movement was her word of the year last year and it felt fitting for me and my heart as 2012 begins. She is one inspiring lady and her own movement has had much impact on the heart and journey of others.*

Heart Questions

It's that time of year again. I'm lost in filing and paperwork and end of year entries and lots of accounting work. So today, I'm quite literally boxing up 2011 and creating space for 2012. I enjoy the busy work and often times it becomes overwhelming too.

There has been a lot on my heart and mind and I hope that something spills out of my heart onto here this week. After reading some friend's blogs and just spending some quiet time with God, I'm sitting with some questions. I don't have many answers for them yet, but these are just some of the things I'm pondering this early January.

Where will I be with God this year?

What is my "word" for 2012?

What does it mean for God to be my portion?

Where am I willing to risk?

Why am I afraid to dream?

What are my dreams?

How would I see myself if I threw out the "failure" label?

What does it mean to really be a friend to someone?

Clean Slate

The first week of the new year feels so filled with hope and promise. It feels that way every year. Christmas has been celebrated well. The after-holiday blues have passed. And the new year is waiting to be lived.

I love how clean my house feels with all of the Christmas decorations packed and back up in the attic. I love the feeling of normalcy and freshness and familiar routine. I love writing new events in my crispy new planner. I love filing last year's paperwork into boxes and making brand new files for the current year at work. I love how things turn over and start again. It's as if the first few days of the year are like one big huge clean slate.

2012 holds a lot of potential, as I suppose any year does. I guess I'm looking forward to this year with a lot of hope for what might change and what could be.

I don't really make resolutions, but below is just a list of some things I am hopeful that this year might look like.

In 2012, I want to get more organized.
In 2012, I want to make-over our master bedroom.

In 2012, I'm looking forward to a possible job change for Todd.
In 2012, I'm looking forward to a trip to visit Bethany and her new baby.

In 2012, I hope to take a "honeymoon" with Todd.
In 2012, I hope to be pregnant.

In 2012, I plan to live healthier and take better care of my body.
In 2012, I plan to pay off more debt and be smarter with our money.

In 2012, I desire to experience more in my marriage.
In 2012, I desire to experience more of God.

So here we go. Another year, another list of hopes and dreams. I wonder what God has in store for life this year!

NEW

New phone.
New planner.
New book.
New dishes.
New flowers.
New determination.
New year.