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I stood in church today, singing lyrics to a song, and for some reason I thought about the greatest love story I’ve ever known….

From the time I was young, I have always gravitated to romance novels when reading just for fun. It is an interesting quirk about me, as I would tell you that I don’t believe in fairy tales, prefer to not watch romantic movies, and love biographies where people have had strength forged through adversity. I value gritty, down in the trenches kind of stories about people who faced great odds and came out on top. But biographies are my second go-to leisure reading. Romance novels are my first.  I used to be embarrassed about the fact that I enjoyed an epic romance – which typically follows the same pattern: People meet. Go through adversity. End up together. Epilogue.  <—– I’m always disappointed when there isn’t an epilogue.  I don’t even care if the epilogue is two weeks later.  hahaha.  Okay, I digress….

My life has looked less like a romance novel, and more like that gritty biography I value. If my life were a romance novel, I’d have to say right now, we are still in the prologue….and it’s lengthy.  And sometimes hilarious. And sometimes not so funny.

But I stood there today and thought about the greatest LOVE story I’ve ever known.

It’s the story of a woman who has triumphed over tragedy and gained strength through adversity, become confident in who she is, and yet realizes she can’t do it all on her own. It’s about a woman who gets up, meets the world head on, reminds herself of her strength, and yet realizes there is beauty in weakness as well.  It’s a love that in the middle of the night, when worries seem many, burdens are heavy, and rest is hard to find, speaks peace and reminds you of all that you have already seen, and gives you hope for all that is yet to come. It has dried tears. Given shelter. Always pursues. It’s the story of a woman who sometimes still runs – maybe not in ways that others see – but who sometimes still will stop pursuit in fear of failure….yet, it constantly whispers that your trust is not misplaced. Never has been.  Never will be. It doesn’t allow for complacency, but always promotes growth. It’s a love that has shown a woman, who once doubted not her capacity to love, but others’ capacity to love her, and opened her eyes to the hearts of so many who seek only to see her succeed.

I’ve been single a long time. Every now and then, I see a post where someone is encouraging single women (mostly) to wait for the one true love the Lord is sending your way. I try very hard not to roll my eyes, since it is usually married women posting who haven’t been single in a long time.  Ladies and gentlemen, the one thing I can guarantee you is that unless my social media accounts ever get hacked by someone with a strange sense of humor, you will not see me post that. I mean, come on, those words aren’t super helpful when the smoke detector has malfunctioned and you can’t reach it to change it out, so you have to wait for someone to help you….twelve hours later. I’m just being real. And yes, I do look forward to the day when I see if all these years of taking the trash out myself makes me less likely to be grumpy with someone else’s everyday flaws, because I have done all the stuff – big and small – in my life for a long time. I’ve even (finally, as my sisters and closest friends would say), decided maybe I should start praying for that in my life. Someone to laugh with. Do mundane everyday things with. Share life with. But this isn’t about that kind of love.

The truth is – married or single, in a relationship, wanting a relationship, or hoping to the good Lord nobody even ever tries again – there are times and paths in life that you will seemingly walk alone. There will be moments when you wonder if anyone in this exact moment can understand how you feel, much less provide a moment of comfort and peace. I’ve had married friends who felt very lonely. I’ve had single friends who hoped for someone to complete them. I stopped looking for that a long time ago.

You see, I already found a love that completes me. A love that rescued me. A love that whispers “you are more than this moment, flaw, or failure”. A love that sees straight to the very being of who am I and doesn’t find me lacking. Instead finds me settled in exactly who I am and Whose I am.

While I wait for the day when this life is shared with someone else here on earth, I sit here confident in a love that is already found within me. A love that won’t forsake me, walk away, or leave me comfortless. Always pursues. A love that has made me whole.

Psalms 86: 11-13:

Teach me your ways, O Lord! That I may live according to your truth. Grant me purity of heart so that I may honor you. With all my heart, I will praise you O Lord my God. I will give glory to your name forever, for you love for me is great. You have rescued me from the depths of death.

Zephaniah 3:17:

 The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.

Psalms 86:15:

But you, O Lord, are a God of compassion and mercy, slow to get angry, and filled with unfailing love and faithfulness. 

Psalms 37: 

The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall,  for the Lord upholds him with his hand.

Romans 5:8

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

And that, y’all, is a great love story. The greatest. Sacrificial. One that never fails. Never gives up. Is always secure. Always protects.

This is a beautiful life.

 

It’s the first of May, and that means Mother’s Day will soon be here.  This month will be a busy one for us because it is also the month that JD graduates high school. There is a lot of emotion around this event – a lot of celebration – and a lot of work.

This morning, I received a text message from JD’s step mom. She is working on something and asked for my input.  It made me think about mothers and their roles in life.  You see, my son has been blessed with a wonderful step mom.  She excels in areas that I don’t, and I believe that JD has had the best of both worlds in the two of us.  In some ways we are very different.  We have different personalities, different things we like to do as hobbies, different ways of looking at things.  But we have one great thing in common – our love for our son.  Yes, I said “our son”.

You see, being a great parent will take being the most unselfish you have ever been – but I believe being a parent or step parent to a child of divorce takes an even greater level of unselfishness.  There are no awards handed out for sharing holidays, birthdays, and major events in a child’s life. There are countless memories made that you aren’t a part of.  You’re only half of your child’s world. You love someone more than anyone else in this world, and you have to be willing to do what is best for them – even when it straight sucks for you.  Yes, I said it – sometimes what is best for a child does not feel like what is best for a parent.

And I can’t even imagine being her.  By default, people seem to downplay the importance of her role.  For some reason people still have a hard time believing that a child can have a wonderful mom and still have a wonderful step mom.  That there doesn’t have to be one or the other.  I don’t have to be absent for her to be involved.  She doesn’t have to be a step monster, because I am in his life.  People ask her questions about other children, and claim she can’t really understand what it’s like to love a child of her own – because she doesn’t have a child of her own.  <—- That never fails to really make me irritated.  So what you’re saying is – because a person didn’t give birth to a child, they can’t love them? Yeah, that’s crap.  When they ask for his mom, they will always look for me…and that is a feeling that would have to be hard.  It would have to be hard to stand there and know all the love, time, effort, financial resources, tears, discipline….you know – all the mom-ing that takes place to raise a child….that you’ve done, and still there some who would claim you don’t know what it’s like to be a “real mom”.

It’s the month of Mother’s Day, and I am thankful for her. When he walks across the stage and accepts his diploma this month, and one day graduates college, when we one day share the role as “mother of the groom”, when we get called “grandma” or “granny” or whatever other name our grandkids will call us, when we stand by and watch as he accomplishes his dreams – I will know.  I will know that he wasn’t just blessed with my love and support, or his dad’s love and support, but he was blessed with her love and support – and while he might look like his dad, or have my smile, he is who is because of her influence and love just as much as anything we have contributed.

I am his mother.  I cried over him. Prayed over him. Wiped his eyes. Held his hand. Disciplined him. Encouraged him. Pushed him. Loved him. She has done all of those same things. Mothers.

Happy Mother’s Day month – to all the mamas who are just doing what they do and unselfishly loving the children their lives have been blessed with.

It’s a beautiful life.

Okay, so this subject has been on my mind, and I’m truly not trying to offend anyone – but I thought I would share.

I have seen something a lot lately – maybe it has always been there, and honestly, I have been guilty of it, too, but y’all…..there comes a point when telling someone you are praying for them becomes a cop out.  Please stick with me.

First off, if you tell someone you’re praying for them, I’m not saying you have to have a Pentecostal revival (although maybe you do), but you darn sure need to pray for them.  It shouldn’t be a pat response because you aren’t sure how to respond, but you feel like one is needed.  With that being said, I’m not saying that prayers aren’t needed and appreciated, but the truth is, if you can act – you need to act.  We need to be doing life in the trenches with people, not just spouting off that we are praying for them, and move on about our day.

Please know I believe in the power of prayer, and I have seen it manifested in my own life. Yet, sometimes people need you to say a prayer while you’re cooking a lasagna to drop off, or sitting in the Panera drive-thru picking up some Soup for Group, or asking if you can watch the kids for a couple of hours, or mowing their grass, or fixing a leaky roof, or sitting with them over a cup of hot tea and really listening to what is going on.  And the list is filled with endless possibilities.

While sometimes going before the Lord is the only thing that we have to give, and again I am not discounting that – sometimes we have the ability to answer the call to supply the need, even if it is in a small way.  When I was a waitress there would be people who would gush about my excellent service, and then not tip.  The one thing that ran through my mind would be, “Your thanks was greatly appreciated, but it didn’t pay my bills”. I kind of look at this the same way – my prayers may be greatly appreciated, but if I have the ability to meet a need, and I didn’t, I have missed an opportunity to show love in a tangible way.

May I find more ways this year to meet a need and show love, while praying and believing for great things.

Matthew 25:35 – 36

For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. 

This is a beautiful life.

“You do you….”

I seem to hear that phrase a lot, and it has a great message – you be who you were intended to be, and I’ll be who I was intended to be and life will be just fine.  Yet, we don’t necessarily always abide by that, do we?

For now, let’s not focus on other people and their opinions, but our opinions of ourselves. You see, you can’t always change how someone feels about you, but I believe you can change how you think about yourself – and that is what is most important. It took me a long time to be okay with the fact that not everyone was going to like me, but once I realized that as long as I liked myself, and was true to who I am, I would be just fine, there was freedom in that. It doesn’t mean I’m flippant with the feelings of others, or intentionally try to be un-likeable, but it does mean that my happiness does not hinge on the fickle opinion of other people. Feelings change – truths do not.

My office is set back off the road. Every so often, I try to get up and walk down to the road to stretch my legs.  After 10 hours sitting in a chair, in a small office, you will feel it at the end of the day if you don’t do something, so I try to make an effort to stretch my legs. Yes, even short legs need to be stretched.  Mostly because my feet don’t touch the ground in my chair.  Ridiculous.  Anyways….I digress.  The property adjacent to ours, at the start of the road, houses a crossfit gym.  Most times when I walk past, I walk right by people flipping tires, running sprints, and man…they. are. killing. it.  KILLING IT. Are they all in the same shape? No, but they are all putting in an effort.

Now, there are those who would look across that chain link fence, and judge each of us. This morning, I had to smile.  You see – they are doing them, and I am doing me. I have done boot camps, half marathons, paleo diets, sprint runs (you can stop laughing now…just because when I say “my feet had wings” it is more like duck wings, and less like eagle wings doesn’t mean it wasn’t sprinting for me), and the list goes on.

But that’s not where I am right now.

Right now, I am focusing on small things that add big value in my life.  And guess what? Both my effort, and the effort of those on the other side of the chain link fence are valid.  I walk by, smile, head high, shoulders back, silently cheer them on – while also silently commending myself for loving myself where I am, and recognizing what I need right now.

Y’all we live in a world of filters, and “best angles”. We live in a world that judges our efforts based on the efforts of the person next to us, without taking into account what the inside looks like. And somehow, we’ve bought into the opinion of others more than the truth of ourselves. So here’s to you…to the person who is flipping tires, and the one who is making an effort to stretch their legs – both doing something to be a little healthier. Here’s to the person who started the day off with a skip in their step, ready to tackle all the challenges – and to the one who realized they needed a day to rest and relax, so they grabbed a book and headed to the couch…or even binged on Netflix. Here’s to the one tracking their food intake all day long in an effort to reach goals, and to the person who is lovingly preparing a carb loaded meal to enjoy with their family. Here’s to the runner that I saw this morning when it was still dark, running down the road fist pumping in the air about something…you made me smile.  But here’s to the person who got the courage to go buy a pair of running shoes, and take them for a walk. <— That takes strength and courage. Here’s to the one who finally bought that goal size bathing suit, but also to the one who is relaxing on the beach just as comfortable in their bathing suit. Here’s to the parent making Pinterest worthy healthy lunches every day, and the one who is making efforts to have an occasional family meal on paper plates – even if it was picked up through a drive-thru.  Y’all are all killing it.  Every. Single. Day.

And I could go on.

Here’s to confidence in this moment.

If nobody else has told you today – you’re valid, and valued.  You’re worth more than you’ll ever know, and your efforts are to be praised. Don’t wait to celebrate who you are. Remind yourself daily of the truth of who that person is, and soon the truth of who you are, will long drown out the opinion of who other people think you are…or should be.

Here is one of my fundamental truths:

Psalms 139:14 – I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

Y’all, I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Right now. In this moment. Always.

And you are, too.

We’re killing it!

This is a beautiful life.

 

A couple of weeks ago, I read an article online and the writer was young. She was in her mid-20’s and was getting ready to move to Europe for a job opportunity. In the post she thanked her mom and dad for all their support, and for a just a moment, I wondered what that felt like.  What that looked like. I wondered what it felt like to be mid-20s, nourished under the umbrella of those kind of parents. In all honesty, by mid-20 some of my hardest years to date had already been lived. Actually, I’ll go ahead and say, ALL of my hardest years to date had already been lived. While I enjoyed the article, I found I couldn’t really relate.

Sometimes I run across a picture of myself as a child, and it takes my breath for a second. I look at the girl, with my same blue eyes, and a wide grin, and in a split second I’ll think of all the things that have transpired since then – all the things she didn’t know and some of the things she knew that the picture hid. It can be a bit overwhelming.

But then….

I think about the beauty born out of struggle. I see a picture of me now, and the laugh lines that frame the same wide smile. The crow’s feet that are a visual reminder of a life of joy. The comfort of knowing exactly who I am…and really liking that person. I’m reminded of a heart that is open and understanding to others. A heart that loves fiercely. A life that is beautiful. There are parts of my story I wouldn’t want anyone else to have to go through…but those are the parts that developed a strength and confidence I wouldn’t trade.

That Sunday morning, after I read the article, I stood in the kitchen and my son came out of his room.  He asked me a question, and while I answered him I thought, “I don’t have to wonder what that looks like – I’m looking at it now. I’m standing here talking to a young man who knows exactly what that feels like.”

You see, we don’t all get the same start. Like it or not – it’s true. We don’t all have the same opportunities. But those things don’t have to hold us back. While I’ll never be able to relate to the same experience of the young lady in her mid-20’s, I’ve been blessed to love and offer that to someone else.

And that, y’all, is pretty amazing.

Lord, thank you – even if the little girl in those long ago pictures had no clue where life would lead, You did…and I’m grateful. Beyond words.

This is a beautiful life.

This is a story about roller coasters…or maybe it’s more a story of love.

I have never enjoyed riding roller coasters. Not even as a child. While some people like the thrill, I was always too caught up in the danger…even it the chances are small. Every now and then, I’d get brave and go – maybe I’d even enjoy it after it was over, but there was always a chance I’d chicken out. For instance, one year I went to Six Flags Over Georgia with the middle school band and rode The Georgia Cyclone. I couldn’t believe it.  That very summer, I went and stayed with my sister in Delaware.  We went to Six Flags Over Jersey, stood in line for two hours to ride the Great American Scream Machine…and I chickened out at the very top as we were getting on the ride.  She was livid. I told her she and my brother-in-law could ride, but they exited, too.  She still remembers it.  I do, too.

Years later, I would enjoy taking my son to Disney World.  We always went and had a great time, but he was more like me in that he doesn’t care to ride big roller coasters. It worked out great.  We have two rules on vacation – no cooking and no crying, so that means we do what we want to do, and if we don’t want to ride roller coasters, then we don’t. Want to try to eat something from every country in EPCOT, then we do! Side note. – it can’t be done.  Don’t even try it. Even sharing something small, there was no way. ha!

One year we went with my best friend and her family – and in the exact opposite manner, that is their favorite thing to do. We walked around Hollywood Studios for a while, I watched the kids while they rode the bigger rides, and then something in me decided I wanted to ride, too. Her husband agreed to wait with me in line for Rockin’ Rollercoaster. It was great.  We had the best time.  We stepped off, I looked up and said “Ohhhhhhh…..I can do it!  Let’s ride The Tower of Terror!  Right now!  PLEASE?!” You have to understand, Scott knows me.  He knows me well.  He knows that I am afraid of heights.  He agrees.  We get in line. I’m pouring sweat.  He’s cracking up.  I’m buoyed by the fact that literally there are six year old children getting on this ride.  I then realize they aren’t old enough to care. I feet faint. I am pale.  Scott is still laughing.  In direct contrast to my normal personality, I have NOTHING to say. Now Scott is getting concerned….but still laughing. We load the ride, and they sit us in the front. I ask to hold Scott’s hand. He agrees.  After I nearly break all his fingers before we’ve even left, he shows me were to hold on under the seat. He tells me that what gets most people is that they get lost in the story, and forget about the drop.  As we get closer to where I know the ride has to drop, I lean over and say: Scott, I haven’t forgotten.

He laughs harder than I’ve ever heard him laugh.  I feel the heat of the temperature change from where the door keeps opening to let people look out as they drop, and I know I’m about to die.  All I can think is that I don’t want to be the person in the paper who died of a heart attack on a Disney World ride.  I begin to practice my Lamaze breathing techniques.  I promise almost everything I have to promise that if I can just make it off this ride, I’ll never again ride it again.  NEVER. Not EVER.  The ride finally comes to an end.  I cannot stop shaking.  Scott cannot stop laughing.  It is one ride picture I wish I had purchased – you can clearly see that I am practicing breathing techniques, and you can clearly see that Scott is about to wet himself with laughter.  We walked out of there, I had to sit down a minute, and I looked up knowing I would never again ride that ride.

Fast forward a few years later. Usually I write about my son, but this story is more about my nephew. I love that young man. He and my son are just a few months apart in age, and I love him like he is my own.  I once again find myself at Disney World – this time it is the week before Christmas and I’m with two barely teenage boys. JD might not like to ride all the roller coasters, but we can sure enough stay up late and spend a lot of time in the parks.  On the other hand, Robbie might like to ride roller coasters, but he needs his sleep.  Both of them tried new things this trip.

We were walking around Hollywood Studios, JD wanted to ride Star Wars again, and Robbie wanted to do Tower of Terror and Rockin Rollercoaster.  I told JD he could go to Star Wars since he had his cell phone on him, and I’d walk with Robbie and wait while he rode his rides.  I see him enter the line for Tower of Terror while I reminisce about how I’ll never ride that again.  I hear the screams, and I’m glad we had discussed this in the weeks prior to leaving.  Aunt Kim will not ride Tower of Terror. Period.  Don’t even ask. A few minutes later, Robbie walks up. I’m confused. He looks at me with those eyes, and says: Aunt Kim, would you please ride with me? I want to ride, but I hate standing in line by myself. I just won’t ride.”

Y’all, these are the two rides he had talked about riding for weeks.  The only two he cared about riding.  I thought I might puke.  I smiled, asked the good Lord to keep His hand on children and fools, and entered the line, shaking. I was sweaty. I was afraid I’d exit at the top. I didn’t care that there were six year old children in line. The big burly man behind us who was clearly in a freak out didn’t help me relax. We got to the front of the line…said big burly man took the walk of shame. I loaded the ride with Robbie, and thought about how much I love that kid.

For some reason, I thought about that tonight. I thought about how we will do things we said we would never do for those we love, and while it might look like a small thing, to this day Robbie remembers the day Aunt Kim put aside her fear of heights, loaded Tower of Terror, and did her best not to have a heart attack in the Happiest Place on Earth.

Love and roller coasters….

This is a beautiful life.

Back in the day (see early 90’s), I used to love to watch TNN when they’d show the Country music videos.  I think TNN pretty much only showed music videos, infomercials, and NASCAR.  Oh wait, I also seem to remember some show with a woman name Lorrie or Lorrie-Anne, and a dude with a receding hairline and a fab 80’s mustache.  Stand by while I Google.

Yep – Lorianne Crook and Charlie Chase.  I could be mistaken, but I think they were pretty much the radio personalities in country music at that time. I digress….Let’s go back to my original thought.

Anyways, back when Tim McGraw wasn’t as refined as he is now and still sported black long-sleeve piratey shirts, and a mullet – and Faith Hill was singing a song I never knew was by Janice Joplin, I would watch music videos while talking on the phone with a friend – or just by myself. Martina, Trisha, Garth (back for they were married), Reba, Alan, Confederate Railroad, McBride and the Ride, George Strait….the list just goes on. I would watch, and was sure I could *totally* have been in that video.  We definitely could have done that (whatever that was). For some reason Toby Keith’s Should’ve Been a Cowboy comes to mind….haha! I’m sure we believed we could have been in every video that came on. Two videos – ten minutes of commercials…..two videos…and the cycled continued.

Fast forward to tonight. Videos are easily accessed whenever you want to watch them. TNN is no longer a thing. I have no idea what happened to Crook & Chase, I’m fairly certain Tim and Faith have aged more gracefully than most people can hope, and a couple of years back I realized that Rhett Akins was old enough to have a son that had his own music on the radio. I took my niece to see him in concert her Senior year. Actually, we went on a freezing cold night to Biloxi for her to see FL/GA Line, but both agreed that night that Thomas Rhett put on the best show.  I never did get to see his dad in concert, but I do still listen to his music.  And now, his son. And maybe it should make me feel old, but if anything is going to make me feel old…it’s probably going to be the fact that my own son is 18, and I have laugh lines when I’m not even smiling.  Wait, let me see…nope, I still don’t feel old.  Again….I’m off track.

I’m sitting on my bed, having just showered after breathing in steaming salt water, and then torturing myself with the Neti-Pot in an attempt to get rid of this sinus funk, when a friend calls.  We catch up a minute and she starts telling me something, when I interrupt and say: Oh girl, no!  No!  Please tell me you didn’t forget to file for homestead exemption!  Please tell me this isn’t where that’s heading.

And, y’all, I had to laugh.  This is where I am. Homestead exemption filings, taxes, and insurance. Grown-up observations, and responsibilites.  I definitely don’t watch music videos and believe I could be in them. I watched something on tv the other night and felt like the poor little girl should have been allowed to put on more clothes before she had to come out and drop it like it was hot, while singing and slinging three feet of hair around.  She was probably 25. I’m not old, but I spent a good amount of time pronouncing Uber as “You-ber” and seriously thought Spotify was “Spotifly”…..until my niece and son pointed out on Christmas that I wasn’t spotting a fly.  Whatever.  So, that’s it…I’m 37 and have realized that it has been a long time since I thought I could be in a music video – or even wanted to be in one….but if anyone needs someone to sell your tax services, insurance, or even your homemade Southern cooking – I could probably be your girl.  Just make it a business name I can pronounce.  hahahaha!

This is a beautiful life.

Side note – A little over 20 years ago now, in October 1996, I skipped my Senior Homecoming dance to go to my first real concert. Not one at the fair, but a real concert.  It was Alan Jackson…and I never regretted it.  For Christmas, I gifted JD with tickets to see him with Lee Ann Womack in just a few weeks…his Senior year.  I have no doubt it will be even better than it was 20 years ago.  You see, a couple of months later – in December of 1996 – I got tickets to the concert of the time…GARTH BROOKS!  I was sure nothing could have been better…but two years ago, when I surprised my son with tickets to see Garth Brooks in Atlanta for his 16th birthday, I realized I was wrong.  For all that has changed in the last 20+ years, some things get even better. Garth Brooks with JD – while scream singing “Friends in Low Places” with him, my sister, and nephew…was way better than the memory of my Senior year. Here’s to the memories, but here’s to today. It might be homestead exemptions, taxes, and insurance….but it’s so much sweeter than that, too.

No, seriously, it really is a very beautiful life. Now, I’m off to listen to a little “That Ain’t My Truck” or maybe hunt down that old Toby Keith video to see who I thought I could have played.  Or maybe throw some clothes in the dryer, and prepare for tomorrow.  haha!

As I sit here on this New Year’s Eve…eve…eve….(I think) – in other words, December 29th, I can’t help but reflect on this last year.  As with each year, naturally this time leads us to think about the previous 12 months, and also tends to see us setting goals for the upcoming 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 525,600 minutes. 31,536,000 seconds. That is the time we all have in front of us, although none of it is guaranteed. We all look at the coming up year hoping for a fresh start, believing for better things, and thinking that at the end of 2017 we will reflect and see all that we have accomplished.

As I look back on 2016, I see a year that had some hard times, but I also see a year where I had to boldly and almost defiantly declare that I know there is a plan for my life. There were times when I can almost picture myself stomping my foot and saying “I don’t care what it looks like today – this is just a refining time that I will look back on and be thankful for.”  Y’all that is straight truth right there. I went into 2016 believing for great and wonderful things….and I’m ending 2016 thankful for this year, and believing the same for 2017. 2016 was a year of internal growth, even if there aren’t a lot of external things to show for it.

As I think about 2017, I know this will be a year of great change. This is the year I have been a mom half of my life. That’s right, I will officially reach the tipping point when the days before I became a mom are fewer than the days since I have been one. That’s a crazy thing to think about. It is also the year that sees my son graduate, and I send him off with hopes and dreams of his own. I was 19 when I had him, and very shortly before he turns 19, he will go off to college. Two 19 year old kids – a lifetime away from each other. So – while this is the year I reach that milestone, it is also the year where I begin to develop some things outside of that, too. It’s important for both of us that I transition into this next stage in life as seamlessly as I hope for him to transition. It doesn’t mean that I won’t have times of nostalgia, but it does mean that it’s time to let him soar, and not have him worry about what mom is doing back at the house. Y’all, I have been a mom my entire adult life – and I will always be a mom. But it’s time to figure out how to be Kim, just Kim, too.  Trust me, your kids want that for you. At least I know JD wants that for me. Let’s not even discuss the slap bet he made with his cousin….let’s just say that I’m looking forward to him losing.  haha!  =)

I could make a list of goals that I want to accomplish in 2017, and I’m not saying I won’t at some point, but more than anything, my goal for 2017 is to become even more firmly rooted in who I am – and in Whose I am. I have a pretty strong sense of self, and usually look at the world with a positive outlook, but that doesn’t mean I am free from times when negative thoughts enter my mind or worry seems to weigh.  For 2017, I will remind myself early and often:

Philippians 4:8 – Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.

Not as an excuse to overlook areas that need tending, or as a way to escape the reality of the situation, instead as a reminder to weigh my thoughts against what His word says for my life. My prayer will be that if my thoughts don’t line up, they will be taken captive and His word will be brought to my remembrance.  I believe that this truly has the power to change my life – and the life of others. If a single action can change our world, and our actions begin with a thought, may that thought be a positive one – full of promise, hope, and understanding of just how much we mean to the One who created us.

Here’s to great things in 2017. In thought. In action.

This is a beautiful life.

 

I feel as if I should start this one with a disclaimer, because this post won’t be easy to write or easy to read – but it is what’s on my heart.

I prayed for you yesterday, with tears rolling down my face. The tears were quite unexpected, although they shouldn’t have been.  I headed towards the town I grew up in to do a little last minute shopping, and as I got closer and closer it was like a flood of memories came, and I was left with the truth I always know, but have a hard time expressing. So, I began to pray. I prayed because I know that somewhere out there you are going to bed unable to dream outside of this moment. There is no dream – only a hope for survival. Somewhere along the way you gave up on rescue, and live with the reality that people can’t even see what is going on, much less realize you need more than a gift under the tree. You live in this moment, and I live with the knowledge that not everyone will be saved by someone else. While I prayed that eyes would be open to see the need in those around them, I prayed that God would keep your heart and mind safe. That He would have His hand of protection on your heart and mind, until the day you realize that sometimes rescue comes in the form of the person you see in the mirror. I prayed that you would one day be able to put one foot in front of the other, leave behind that life, and look back and see that even in the hardest of times, God was faithful to you. That even in those moments, He was working out a path of escape. I prayed that one day you’ll drive back into that town, not defeated, but instead strong in who you are, confident in His love for you, not held back with bitterness or anger, but free with forgiveness and a strong appreciation for how beautiful this life is. I prayed one day you find a way to help someone else, even if it’s small. You will always see the need and not be able to look away from it, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. You’ll find a way to live with doing what you are able, and turn over to the Lord that which you are not. You’ll find people who love, support, and believe in you. I prayed for you, and I pray for you often. I prayed for a soft heart, strong mind, and eyes that look towards the Lord for help. Yes, I prayed for you, not as someone who wants to look away from where you are today, but as someone who once was where you are. Rescue is coming. Even if it comes from you.

This is a beautiful life.