Monday, September 24, 2012

remembering to trust

Two and a half weeks ago, I found out I was pregnant for the second time in my life. I was surprised at how excited I was over this unplanned pregnancy, but couldn’t quite get rid of a nagging concern in the back of my head.
When I had our first son, I had endured a very difficult pregnancy that ended in a pre-term emergency cesarean birth for my son. Only by the grace of God was my child born healthy, though drastically underweight.
Throughout the first two trimesters of my son’s pregnancy, I was horribly sick. “Morning sickness” plagued me all day, every day. At the worst of it, I was getting sick 5 and 6 times a day; I lost 8 pounds in my first trimester, which may not seem like much, but I started my pregnancy at 115 pounds, so losing 8 pounds was essentially 7% of my body weight. Around the beginning of my third trimester, the “morning sickness” waned, though I still continued to get sick a couple times a week until my pregnancy was nearly over.
At that point, I thought I could relax for a couple months until I got to meet my sweet little boy. Unfortunately, that was when other problems came to light. To make a long story short, my placenta had stopped functioning and my child was essentially starving to death in my womb. After a whirlwind of events, my son was taken from my womb in my 35th week. A little more than a month early, my little man came out weighing a meager 3lbs8oz. He was tiny. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, but he miraculously came out perfectly healthy. We were able to bring him home at ten days old and were so grateful to God for His mercy when we came so very close to losing our baby boy.
When everything was said and done, I was told by the doctors that while we knew that my placenta had failed, they didn’t know why; because they didn’t know why, they didn’t know if I would have this problem with future pregnancies or not. For years, I have secretly dreaded another pregnancy. When people would ask when we were going to grow our family, I would laugh it off and say, “not anytime soon,” or “it’s in God’s hands,” while inside I prayed I would not have to ever endure anything like that again.
However, it really was in God’s hands and here I sit, pregnant again. The joy I first felt with the positive test was quickly replaced by nausea. The morning sickness had set in even sooner than the first pregnancy and was quickly escalating to the heights of the first. Over the span of two weeks, I had already lost my appetite, multiple meals and 2.5 pounds.
By this past Friday evening, after getting sick for the 10th time in less than 48 hours, I was a mess. The nagging concern that had been in the back of my head become a screaming fear I couldn’t quiet. What if it’s happening again? What if I can’t carry full term? What if I have to have another c-section? What if this baby isn’t fully developed upon early delivery? What if this pregnancy isn’t the part of the 3% that is born underweight but the much larger percent that doesn’t survive this complication?
These thoughts made a repetitive chorus in my head, distracted only by the occasional cry to God for His mercy to not make me go through this again. Then, yesterday morning, as I was lying on the couch, crippled by nausea, I suddenly had a change in my thoughts. Even if I had to endure another pregnancy like that, or worse, is in not still in God’s hands?
The conviction hit hard. I had professed trusting in God, but in the secret places in my heart, I had allowed worry to push out the trust. I had allowed my fears to push out the truth the God does not change with my circumstances. He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow, regardless of what occurs with this pregnancy. He knew before I was pregnant exactly how this pregnancy would play out and He chose to place this life in my womb.

“Children are an heritage of the Lord; the fruit of the womb is a gift.” Psalm 127:3

How ungrateful of me to not accept this gift with open hands, but with fear and trepidation. What if it’s happening again? God is in control. What if I can’t carry full term? God is in control. What if I have to have another c-section? God is in control. What if the baby isn’t fully developed upon early delivery? God is in control. What if this pregnancy isn’t the part of the 3% that is born underweight but the much larger percent that doesn’t survive this complication? God is in control.
Late yesterday afternoon, the nausea gave way to an appetite. Today, I am feeling well again. Maybe prayers have been answered and the “morning sickness” has passed, maybe it’s just a break before another round of illness, maybe I will endure the rest of my pregnancy without complications, maybe entirely different complications will arise this pregnancy. However, all the “maybe’s” in the world won’t change the one thing I can put my trust in: God is in control.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, through prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7



Wednesday, July 11, 2012

my blog is not cool...

...and that's ok. I have thought multiple times about putting in the time and effort it takes to make my blog up to standards for the modern blogging world. But you know what? I am just too tired to care that much. I have so many other things throughout my day that I have to deal with, so many details and choices, that I just don't have the energy to care about switching fonts and colors through my posts and having a super-cute and personalized format. I like those things and I really, really want to care about those things, but I just can't.  If I do, then I am left with no energy to compose sentences. If that happens, what is the point of my blogging at all? My blog is not cool, but it is me, take it or leave it. (If that makes me uncool, I am ok with that, too; I have never really cared about being cool...)

Thursday, June 28, 2012

sunrise, sunrise...

Have you ever watched the sunrise at the Grand Canyon? I have. It is quite possibly one of the most beautiful experiences I have ever had. It has been nearly 4 years since that morning, but the details are still so vivid in my head, it feels like it was just the other day.

When my husband and I married, we decided to take a Route 66 road trip to California for our honeymoon. Our plan was to just experience the road as it came to us, with only a few "have to do/see" things on the list. We spent half the honeymoon camping in various spots across the country (we also spent a night in the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook, Az.) My favorite spot was the Grand Canyon.

I lived in Arizona for the first 13 years of my life and never saw the Grand Canyon. I told my husband when we were on our honeymoon, we had to go because we would be so close. I wanted to see the sunset and the sunrise at the Grand Canyon.

Our first glimpse of the Canyon was just before the sun began to set. Unfortunately, our vantage point did not offer much in the way of an amazing sunset, but the scenery was breathtaking. I wanted to stay there forever. It was even more wonderful than I had always imagined it to be. I was very eager to see the sunrise the following morning.

After a wonderful evening by the campfire chatting with a lovely German couple we met, we set the alarm for an early rise and I went to bed as anxious as a child for Christmas morning. I was woken before my alarm to a horse walking around the campground. I had not realized there were horses living free in the Canyon and was very excited to be greeted by that.

I stirred my husband and we drove from our campground to a local lookout point. What we first thought would be a perfect location for watching the show quickly became overcrowded by a very noisy group of international tourists. Rather than allowing them to take away from the beauty and serenity of it all with their incessant chatter, we drove to a lookout spot that was actually just a cliff. No rails, no sidewalks, no people.

We crawled down the side of the cliff and found a rock that made for a good seat. The next 45 minutes or so were filled with awe as we watched the sun wake the Canyon. As the sun rose higher and higher, the colors became more and more vibrant, bursting with life. The Colorado River glistened in the morning light, beckoning the wildlife for a cool morning drink. The cool morning air slowly warmed as birds took flight to the sky. The only noises we heard were those from the Canyon waking or the occasional exclamation of amazement that slipped from our lips. It was as though we were the only two people in the world and all that beauty was handcrafted just for us. It was everything I had always hoped for and more. I couldn't stop praising God for the beauty of His creation and the perfection of that moment.

I was going to share a picture, but none of the ones I have do it justice. To be fair, my words don't do it justice either. It is just a memory I love to revisit often, because it is so perfectly beautiful. I pray I will again have an opportunity to see the sunrise at the Grand Canyon. (I could very easily be a morning person if I could see that every morning.)

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Tuesday, June 26, 2012. (creative title, I know...)

Back again. Staring at this empty screen trying to figure out how to reconcile my head with my heart and use it to create a coherent sentence. Fighting off the desire to excuse yet another lengthy absence. Wondering if anyone will even read what I have taken the time to force upon the keyboard.

Meh.

I hate when I don't write on a regular basis. The more time that passes, the more pressure I feel to write something amazing. WARNING: If you are looking for amazing, you will be disappointed.

I, however, am amazed at how my brain seems to quiet itself only upon preparing to write an entry. Thousands of thoughts flitter through my head on a daily basis, jumping from topic to topic, but I get on here and I have nothing.

Well, nothing is not entirely true. There are still many thoughts, but the ability to share them seems beyond me at this moment. There are so many things on my heart, but I am unsure of how to share them without leaving myself too vulnerable. I do not enjoy feeling vulnerable. It scares me. If I think about it too much, my heart begins to race and my palms get all sweaty. I would rather give an impromptu speech to a stadium full of people than feel vulnerable.

Want to hear something ironic? I just deleted everything I had typed after that last sentence because it began to segue into something that made me feel too vulnerable.

Ha! I am ridiculous...

I guess I could talk about the weather. Hot.  Or baseball. Awesome. But they will cover all that in weather and sports on the 10:00 news (happening now in the Central timezone) so I suppose I will leave it to the professionals and put an end to my ramblings...

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Lessons from Motherhood

Four years ago, I celebrated my very first Mother's Day with my husband and my 12 day old son, whom had come home from the NICU a couple days prior. I will always remember my first Mother's Day, as I am sure all mothers do. I know I am still a "new" mother in many ways, but I feel I have already learned many valuable lessons over my few years as a mommy. So, in honor of all the mother's who have come before and as an encouragement to those who are following the footsteps, I share with you some of the pearls motherhood has taught me.

Being a mom has taught me...
1. ...how to love and appreciate my body.
I will forever remember the couple weeks after delivering my son. I had delivered via an emergency C-section and continued to wear the gauze "underwear" the hospital had provided to prevent irritation on the gash across my midsection, with these I was still wearing a mattress an extra-large "lady" product to catch the excess blood-flow and extra-thick pads in my nursing bra (when my milk came in, it came in,) showering was only occurring every few days, so I smelled of breast-milk and spit-up; yet, in that moment of feeling the least physically appealing I had ever felt, I was owning my womanhood. My body was amazing to me, it had produced an incredible little person who had stolen my heart the very second I met him. To this day, I have a heightened appreciation and love for my body.
2. ...there really is no use crying over spilt milk. Early in my mothering days, I accidentally spilled 4oz of milk I had just pumped. I began to cry. Then, my husband and I began laughing because I was literally crying over spilt milk. And you know what? The milk was still spilt and the world didn't end. Motherhood is messy. There are exploding diapers, middle of the night vomit-fests, muddy hands, bloody knees and countless pounds of food that end up everywhere but the mouth. In those moments, you put on your big-girl panties, take a deep breath (sometimes hold it,) roll up your sleeves and get messy. Any other response, is just wasted effort.
3. ...to roll with the flow. You can plan and schedule all you want, but you are only in so much control. More times than I can count, my plans/schedule have been messed up by an illness, an accident or some other toddler emergency. My original plan for this Mother's Day weekend: Saturday- clean house, do laundry, pre-cook Sunday's dinner; Sunday- church, relax with my boys, baseball. How my weekend went: Saturday- spend all day taking care of a sick child; Sunday- cleaning, multiple potty-training accidents (involving poo!), a steak dinner (grilled by the hubby) and baseball. Not exactly as planned, but I actually had a great weekend.
4. ...to have a deeper appreciation for my parents. This one was surprising to me, though it shouldn't have been. I have always loved my parents, but I failed to fully appreciate their humanity until I, too, became a parent. Especially during my selfish teenage-years, it was too easy to hold my parents faults against them. They were parents and they should be perfect, after all. But I have come to realize how wrong my thinking was. They are just as human as I. Not only that, but when I think about how much I love my son and how much it would break my heart if he grows up and acts foolishly, I realize that maybe, just maybe, my parents weren't all that wrong in some of their decisions and rules...
5. ...to have a deeper appreciation for Christ. "For God so loved the world, He gave His only Son..." John 3:16 I think of the love I have for my son and it is a gut-wrenching thought to think of losing him. And to give him up for death that others may live? To have him suffer for an undeserving, unappreciative world? I couldn't do that. But God could. Because He loved me so much more than I love my son. Even when I act like a tantruming 3 year old, He loves me.






(I intended to make this cute by putting in pictures, but my blog is being difficult right now, so just text...)

Sunday, April 22, 2012

an explanation of sorts...

Been away for awhile again. There is a good reason for my absence, though it may only make sense to me.

My life is full of "fluff." My profession requires me to daily engage in superficial pleasantries and less-than-deep conversations. I have a toddler that goes 90mph from the time his feet hit the floor until bedtime. Many days, I wonder if diapers, dishes, laundry and taking care of the animals are the only hobbies I have. It is very easy for me to get lost in a routine that requires no deep thought.

This blog gives me an outlet for that. I have tried to post the "fluff" blogs and it just leaves me feeling empty. (Disclaimer: I don't think there is anything wrong with the "fluff" blogs. I just have enough fluff in my life, I don't need another spot to fill with it.)

When I come here, I desire to expose a deeper part of my heart.

The last few months, I have been processing a lot of deep thoughts. My heart and mind have been stretched and tried. Many times, I wanted to share, but I just couldn't find the words. I knew I would be left feeling empty if I posted something that wasn't on my heart, so I stayed silent.

Last week, I was listening to a sermon and heard the preacher say, "Sometimes, we need to be silent to be able to learn what we are being taught."  I feel that best explains my silence.

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

(Friday evening, I went to a retreat with the women of my church. Psalm 46:10 was our verse for the weekend.)

Thursday, March 22, 2012

long time, no write

Wow. How long has it been since I have been on here to write? A couple weeks? More? I am not sure.
I have thought about it a couple times, but it never went beyond that. I haven't been spending nearly as much time on the computer as I had been in my "Facebooking" days; with each day that goes by, I find myself with less and less desire to sit in front of the empty glow of the computer screen. The time has been filled, instead, with being more active, spending more time with my husband and son, spending more time with God and, even sitting quietly with nothing but my thoughts to distract me from the silence.
I didn't realize how deeply the Internet had me sucked in; taking a break from Facebook was just the catalyst to reveal that truth.
I was living a pseudo-life through the Internet, forgetting life was speeding by me all the while.
I am not guaranteed tomorrow. I don't want to waste today on the computer.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

lunchtime ramblings...

I am sitting at a Pizza Hut in a town I do some of my marketing. I only come to this town once a month or so, as it is one of the furthest corners of my territory and I spend a day driving to make just a few calls. I always enjoy coming to places where I don't know people, it makes for interesting people watching.

Confession time.

I often times fall victim to the sinfulness of vain thoughts. Too frequently, I get caught up in what my eyes reveal to me; more often than not it is negative observations. For example, just now, I glanced at a couple who walked in the door and was instantly drawn to the excessive amount of hair on the gentleman's shoulders. I am the person who notices body weight, acne, bad hair days and poor clothing choices. I am not proud of this trait. Many times throughout my life I have been taught that a person's beauty is not seen through the eyes, but I never have been able to successfully look at someone without seeing the imperfections of their physical beauty. This is something God has been working on me with lately.

As I was looking at this gentleman and his shoulder-hair, I was convicted. It was pressed very strongly in my heart that God designed that man and his hairy shoulders with as much care and precision as he designed me and my freckles and curly hair. All of creation has been designed by the meticulous hand of God, who am I to question the beauty of something just because my feeble mind cannot fully comprehend God in all His glory? Who am I to deem God's creation unattractive just because I do not find it aesthetically appealing? Some people find freckles and curly hair unattractive, does this mean I am not beautifully made by the hand of God? No.

I suppose all these years I have been wrong. I knew it wasn't about looking at the exterior (even though I still did,) but thought it was about looking at what was on the "inside." That was also the wrong view. My eyes should have been focused on God; when I look at the world and the people of it through the lenses of His love and mercy, I can clearly see the beauty in all the works of His hand.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

an update of sorts...

Wow. I knew I hadn't written anything on here in a while, but I just checked my last post: February 1! I haven't written the entire month of February. I have wanted to a few times, but this month has just been a little crazy. A few things worth noting:

1. Last week, I had a blow-out on Tuesday. Then, the spare we put on to get us through until Friday decided to throw it's tread and go flat as I was pulling into the drive a day later. =( I got to spend the remainder of my week using my hubby's work van to do my marketing in... Fun stuff. =)
2. I have given up facebook for an undetermined length of time. It was just becoming too much for me and I realized it was stealing from my family and my relationship with God. That was an unacceptable situation, so I cut myself off last Wednesday. It has been difficult and I am realizing just how much time I have spent on facebook. More than I am proud to admit. I intend to go back on, eventually (it keeps me in touch with so many of my family members,) but my time will be very restricted when I do.
3. My husband and I celebrated our 9th Valentines' Day together. I made him his favorite dinner, we shared a wonderful bottle of wine and spent the evening playing chess. Yep, my husband and I play chess; it's one of the reasons I married the guy.
4. My son's language devolpement has taken off. Every day he is saying something new. Communication with him just keeps getting easier and easier. He is still learning sign language to help supplement the verbal and it is just amazing how well he can communicate with us compared to 7 months ago, before we had his tongue fixed. He has also taken off in learning other things (which he never had a delay on...) He can identify, by pointing and naming, the colors Red, Green, Blue, Yellow, Orange, Brown, Black and Purple. He can repeat to us all of his letters when we go through the alphabet, can identify by pointing and naming all of his letters and he can identify numbers 1-20. He has shown an interest in learning Chess and can identify by pointing and naming all the pieces; he even has taken to "playing" Chess and will get the board set up by himself (not all the pieces in the right order, but a good try.) He is very creative as well as athletic. He loves playing baseball and has shown a natural ability in the skills necessary for the sport (a huge joy to his father and I who adore the game.) He regularly takes batting practice off his tee or just in the hallway by throwing a ball in the air and trying to hit it before it hits the ground. (He can even hit the ball when we soft-pitch it to him.)........ oops, I didn't mean to make a huge paragraph about him... just wanted to mention his language developement. I just got so excited about everything else going on with him. The kid regularly blows us away.
5. My husband has a motorcycle for the first time in ten years. He has wanted one the entire time we have been together, but we haven't been able to make that expenditure until now. The thing that finally helped us make our decision that the time was right is the gas prices. We did the math and realized that the money we would spend on a used bike will be what we save in gas in 6 months! Wow. That's a lot of $$ we will not be giving to the oil companies, but  be able to use elsewhere in our budget.
6. Had my yearly eval with work. Not a single negative comment on the entire thing. (Yay, me!)
7. We have a new nephew. Born 02.10.2012. I should be meeting him in a month or so and this makes me very excited. I currently have 11 neices and nephews, all but three of them are under the age of 4! It makes family gatherings so much fun. I love my neices and nephews.

There is plenty of other stuff that has happened this month, but those are the big highlights...

Monday, January 23, 2012

a Love that humbles

Earlier I was thinking on love and the effect of its power. Now, I am not talking about the "happily-never-after" fairy-tale junk I used to fill my head and heart with as a little girl, but real, honest love; the kind of love that is written about in 1 Corinthians 13. This love is incredibly powerful.

Today, I was thinking about how a genuine love can be so humbling. When people are filled with a genuine love for other people, they are able to lower themselves. Until today, I believed that when you genuinely loved someone, it gave you the strength to humble yourself to that person. Today, I realized it doesn't give you the strength to do it, it takes away the option to not.

This Love of which I speak does not give strength, it takes away selfishness and pride. The further in Love one is, the more impossible it is to refuse humility. This is the Love that enables a mother to spend her days changing diapers and washing dishes with a song in her heart. This is the Love that enables a husband to see beauty in his wife when her hair has fallen out from chemo. This is the Love that enabled a God-man to crawl upon the cross and give His life for a diseased race of sinners, that we may know Him and His Love personally.

This is a Love that humbles.

For God so loved the world, He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believe in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16

Saturday, January 21, 2012

I sit here staring at a blank screen. Desiring to write something, but lacking the energy and creative thought process necessary to produce something from the many contemplations that have been swirling through my head this week. My son has been under the weather and our lives have been affected accordingly: tantrums, screwy sleep schedules, clingy toddler wiping tears and snot into my hair multiple times a day... It has been an tiring week and my mental capacity is shot.

Maybe tomorrow my brain will catch up.

Monday, January 16, 2012

a perfect view

I love watching the sun set. It is always so beautiful. Sometimes, it is a simple beauty with subtle purples and blues slowly fading into each other. Others, it is a dramatic beauty, with bold reds and pinks crashing off perfectly scattered clouds. It is never disappointing. I can remember many times throughout my life wishing I had somewhere to watch the sun set.

My home sits slightly elevated, on a small hill. My kitchen window looks directly upon the western horizon. Every evening, I have a perfect location to watch the sun set: standing before my kitchen sink. As I stand with scrub brush in hand, scouring away the evidence of our full bellies, I am able to look upon God's creative glory with awe.

My home is humble, but I have a perfect view.

Friday, January 13, 2012

planting trees

My husband and I planted a tree together when I got home from work today.
(Just wanted to record that.)

The following song was in my head during that time:

"Planting Trees" by Andrew Peterson

We chose the spot, we dug the hole
We laid the maples in the ground to have and hold
As Autumn falls to Winters sleep
We pray that somehow in the Spring
The roots grow deep

And many years from now
Long after we are gone
These trees will spread their branches out
And bless the dawn

He took a plane to Africa
He gathered up into his arms
An orphan son

So many years from now
Long after we are gone
This tree will spread its branches out
And bless the dawn

So sit down and write that letter
Sign up and join the fight
Sink in to all that matters
Step out into the light
Let go of all that's passing
Lift up the least of these
Lean into something lasting
Planting trees

She rises up as morning breaks
She moves among these rooms alone
Before we wake
And her heart is so full; it overflows
She waters us with love and the children grow

So many years from now
Long after we are gone
These trees will spread their branches out
And bless the dawn
These trees will spread their branches out
And bless someone

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

and you thought it was just clipping nails...

Well, I am definitely not as diligent about posting with this blog...
I have wanted to a few times, but I really haven't had much to say. I have been very tired and feeling kinda junky the last few days; when I feel that way, I certainly don't feel like having to make my brain work to form coherent sentences. I am still not feeling back to normal, but I am going to make an attempt this whole writing thing...

This evening, after dinner, I started to trim my son's finger and toe nails. He is still a few months from turning 3, so you can imagine how this could go. Over the past couple years, we have developed a system for doing this that, while still challenging, makes the whole thing go much more smoothly. Tonight, though, something strange happened.

I went into my son's room with the little case that holds our nail clippers and announced what time it was. Rather than the initial run down and wrestle onto my lap that he usually forces this event to begin with, he very gently held out his hand to me; allowing me to clip each nail quickly and without fuss or fight. He repeated this with the other hand, and after a small amount of coaxing, held out both of his feet. It was nearly unbelievable how well it all worked.

Moments like these find me conflicted. On one hand, I am so proud and thankful that my son is growing; on the other, I am saddened by these moments because I feel him slipping away. I know that is how it is designed, and I really don't want to spend the rest of my life wiping his bottom and wrestling him over grooming habits, but I know with each moment of growth, I am slowly losing my baby.

The days when he pushes me away and refuses a kiss in front of his friends just keep inching closer. It makes me want to smother him in hugs and kisses every chance I get. I won't smother him, though, because I don't want to chase him away any faster. I will, however, treasure even more the moments when my baby needs his mommy. When he climbs on my lap and wraps his arms around my neck, I am going to hug him back with all my love, knowing the whole time, when he is ready to let go, I will have to let him.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

pearls

Every Wednesday, two of my sisters-in-law tote all of their kids and one of their fathers-in-law to a local fast food restaurant for lunch. Frequently, my mother-in-law is also in attendance. When my schedule permits, I also meet them there. It is an incredibly full hour of visiting, laughing and a round of twenty questions from my little fry hoarders niece and nephews. Today, I was able to lunch with them and, as always, it was very entertaining.

During the round of twenty questions from one of my nephews, I was asked about my pearl necklace and how pearls are made. I preceded to tell him a preschool version of how pearls are made: God takes some oysters, puts some sand in their mouths and closes them really tight for a long time, when the mouths open back up the pearls are there. Apparently, this story was a very good one, as I was asked to repeat it four times (while answering questions like, "where did the sand come from?" "Was God wearing shoes in the sand?")

During my recitations, it occurred to me how God is so amazing to take something like sand and transform it into such a treasure like a pearl. What is even more amazing is how He can take something like me and transform it into something that is viewed as worthy of spending eternity with Him. I would have stayed perfectly content with the little analogy that God just revealed to me, but then He had to go and take it a step further when one of my sisters-in-law made the observation, "Pearls are made from spit and sand, how cool is that?...Hey! We were made from spit and sand, too!"

Yep, so there you go. We are pearls...

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

all beginnings are new

The first sentence is always the hardest for me. Once I get that one out of the way, the rest doesn't seem so difficult.

Today, I start a new blog. It was just a few months ago that I had started a new blog, but the season for that has come to an end. There was a part of me that wanted to keep it going because I knew there were people who were following it, but I can't continue to do that for the wrong reasons. Instead, I am starting a new one.

I am still unsure exactly where this blog will take me. Maybe I'll get around to actually editing the design further than the template I used on the last one, maybe not. I have titled it "contemplations and notions" as I presume it will be a place for that. I don't know how frequently I will post or exactly what I will write about. I presume it will either be about things in my day to day life, my spiritual journey or just random thoughts or musings. I guess time will reveal all these things.

I lift my glass (of Dr. Pepper) to new beginnings. (Though, all beginnings are really new, aren't they?)