Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Love Alone Is Worth the Fight

What started out as a simple conversation quickly turned in to a heated discussion.  He was hoping to move in one direction, I wanted to explore another, and we just weren't seeing each other's points.  Thankfully, we soon realized that we were both reacting out of fear of the "other option" and agreed to discuss both options.

A few hours later we found ourselves at a Switchfoot concert, watching a documentary of their time on the road and in the waves, and hearing an acoustic set of some new and old music.  Tears stung my eyes when they shared what is now their current radio hit.  In my peripheral vision, I saw him wiping a tear away, too.

Thus was born my song of the year.  Some people have a word or phrase of the year, I usually have a song.  When I hear that said song, it takes me back to the emotions of that year, the goals, the hopes, the dreams. When the calendar changed to January, I decided this song was my anthem.  Every time I hear it I get pumped up, I get excited, I remember.

Right now, there is a lot on my heart that this song represents, but I'm not ready to share it all here, just yet.  But I promise I won't forget it - I'll have this song to remind me of those things.

If you haven't had the privilege of hearing the latest Switchfoot release, check it out here, you'll be glad you did.


I'm trying to find where my place is, I'm looking for my own oasis
So close I can taste this, The fear that love alone erases

So I'm back to the basics, I figure it's time I face this
Time to take my own advice

Love alone is worth the fight 

And I never thought it'd come to this, but it seems like I'm finally feeling numb to this
The funny thing about a name is, You forget what the reason you were playing the game is

And it's all an illusion, a 21st century institution
So I'm headed down the open road unknown

And we find what we're made of through the open door
Is it fear you're afraid of? 
What are you waiting for? 

Love alone is worth the fight

We're only here for a season, I'm looking for the rhyme and reason
Why you're born, why you're leaving, what you fear and what you believe in

Why you're living and breathing, why you're fighting it and getting it even
Let's go headed down the open road unknown

Here we are, here we go where the road is our own
Hear it calling you home
Here we are, here we go!

Love alone is worth the fight 

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Hoop Love

I LOVE embroidery hoops.  I blame it first on my friend Melody, how has several hanging in her living room in fun fabrics, differing patterns, with numbers stenciled on them.   I slowly acquired two or three to copy Melody and hang on MY living room wall.  I just think it's a fun, cheap, easy, fabulous way to spruce up empty wall space.  

A year ago when I was planning Sammy's baby shower, I knew fabric in hoops would be perfect decor for large black curtains on the stage.  I made a dozen and a half hoops, used the left over fabric for a pennant banner, and then gifted the decor to Sammy to use in Baby Charlotte's nursery if she wanted to. (She did!)

I'd love to use hoops in my child's room, but he's a boy, and more in to trains, wheels, and sports, than he is in to polka dots, checks, and stripes.  Levi spent the weekend in Western PA with his grandparents, and it was the perfect change to rearrange his room (again), purge toys (again), and make room for this beaut - a train table!  A hand-me-down from his cousins, and my new babysitter.  In the 12 hours that Levi has been home, he has not left his room.

Also, I spent waaaaay too long constructing a train track using both of his train sets and making them intersect.

Another factor in the Preschooler room update was this gorgeous afghan that my Grandma gave me.  My mom made it for my brother when he was a toddler, and my grandma had been storing it in her cedar chest since then. When I saw the black, white, red, and blue, I said, "This is going to fit PERFECTLY in Levi's room!"  Plus it has a tractor and a barn on it.  So that's love.

Then POW a flash of brainstorm hit me one day during nap time.  I could use left over embroidery hoops to create sports balls to hang on Levi's wall. 

And so I did.

(Don't mind the soccer ball - geometry isn't my strong point and I realized the white shapes should be hexagons not pentagons.  I'll fix it, promise.)

The best part (you know, besides everything I did to his room this weekend being free) was when Levi walked in to his room he said, 

"Wow, MOM, this is AMAZING!"

I feel like the room is really Levi's now.  It's not some nursery that I planned for months that is coordinated just right (although I LOVED that, too).  This is him - it's all the stuff he loves!

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

I Hope You're Not Sad Anymore

"I have exciting news," she told me.

I was washing dishes, chatting on the phone, nerdy blue tooth earpiece stuck in my ear.  Jen and I first bonded over the fact that she "babysat" Levi in her belly, but have long since become friends.  We hadn't talked since  Christmas, so I was glad for a catch up phone call.  I turned off the water, put down the dish cloth and asked, "Are you moving?"


I took a beat and then asked, "Are you having a baby?"

"No," she replied again.  I heard a stifled laugh in her voice.

"Oh, ok!  What then?"

We went on to talk about her exciting news, caught up on work and kids, and soon I felt convicted and looped back to my previous question.

"Sorry I asked if you were pregnant - that was probably inappropriate."

"Oh, it's ok!" she graciously offered.

I paused.  "It's just that before Levi was born and I wanted a baby so badly. I had to expect that everyone around me was pregnant, then I would be prepared when I heard an actual pregnancy announcement.  I guess old habits die hard."

"Well, I hope you aren't sad anymore when you hear one!"  Jen laughed.

"No, I'm good."


I couldn't get this conversation out of my head.  How heartbreaking would it be to hear that the baby you selflessly gave a childless couple was not enough?  Not to say I never want more children, but more like I can't be sad about infertility anymore.  It's been remedied.

Someone else sacrificed SO much to give me everything.

It made me reflect on another area of my life. God has given me everything I need, and yet I still pout and get sad that I didn't get this or that like someone else did.  How selfish.  How rude.  How entitled.

Lord, keep me broken.  I want the sacrifice made on my behalf to be fresh, in my face, never forgotten.  I don't want to take these thing for granted.  Ever.