Resolute.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about my resolution for the coming year. 

Molly said hers was to encourage people to not waste power by unplugging appliances when they weren't in use. 

Gotta love her love for the environment at age 6.  

She's apparently already a product of the media. 

Anyhoo, this is my resolution for 2011:

Make decisions.  

And be ok with those decisions.  

There you have it.  Whoo to the hoo.  

Actually, I'm rather proud of my decision* as at times I become excessively indecisive and constantly second-guess myself.  I am such a pleaser and find myself so caught up worrying about what I say and do and how it affects others and what will they think and do they still consider me slightly above-average intelligent and funny and nice and cool or whatever the new with-it phrase it and can I live with this forever???

So, instead of worrying constantly, I'm going to try to make decisions, stick to them, and move on in 2011.  

Life is just too stinkin' short to worry about things that I worry about.  

Maybe I should amend my resolution to this (see how I can't even live with a resolution that isn't measured by anyone other than myself????):

Make decisions.  

Worry less, trust more. 

And be ok with those decisions. 

Actually, I think I like this better.  I like being ok with the decision to worry less and trust more.  

Now that I have worked through this nightmare (seriously type-A people like myself cannot handle the responsibility of finding the BEST resolution for ourselves), I'm making the decision* to drink some coffee, read a little, and tackle my household to-do list for the day. 

And I'm in love with that decision.*  

*You liked those plays on the word "decision," didn't you???  

Well, I guess it wasn't exactly a play on words, but more appropriate usage of the word. . . but still, you liked it, admit it. 

I know you did.  

At This Table

I remember her saying, "I'm getting a new table.  My chair no longer fits under this white one."

Cliff had put her old table on blocks so she could fit under it comfortably, but it just wasn't working. 

One day, this table arrived at her home.  

I told her I was in love with her table.  

She said, "It works."

For her, this table was a reminder that life was moving on quickly, and one day she would be unable to catch up.  

Her medicine, her applesauce and spoon, water bottle, meals, cellphone, and Bible rested on this table.  

She and I solved the world's problems, laughed, cried, and planned her funeral at this table. 

This table was the place I learned how to embrace life with the help of my very good friend.  

I am beyond thankful to have this in my home.  

It is already one of my most treasured possessions.  

This table reminds me to live. 

Winter Delight

This morning I'm sitting at my new table (and there is a post coming soon about this very special table), drinking from an old mug, reading the Word, journaling, and admiring the very fresh snow covering our neighborhood.   

I have reminders that Christmas happened scattered all over the house, sounds of children playing with new things, and the smell of cinnamon rolls baking. 

We won't head to church this morning, instead we will worship the King at home.  

And we will delight in the wonder of His creation--both inside and out.  

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,  Jesus,


I have been a very good girl this year.  I would love the following for Christmas this year:


-a keyboard (the plink plink variety, not the clickety clack kind)


-fancy photo software


-a bass and an amp for my pretty pink pirate strap


-hardwood floors


-a garage


-a money tree


Thank you for everything I don't deserve.

Love,
Amanda, age 31
XOXXO

To Santa or Not To Santa

This conversation gets hot and crazy this time of year among the Christian circles.

Team Santa and Team Not Santa start gathering their ammunitions and begin hurling insults at the opposing team.

I say, celebrate the season at your house as you see fit.  

If the Big Man comes to your house and drops off gifts, fantastic. 

If your children know there's not a Big Man but you still pretend and they wake up to find gifts under the tree by Pretend Big Man, fantastic. 

If you don't give gifts at all from a Big Man, fantastic. 

But, instead of preaching to each other, being rude and self-righteous--let's just remember the REAL reason for the season.  

It certainly isn't fighting over the existence of Santa.  

FYI--he isn't real.  

But, according to my children, he is as real as the Disney princesses.  

One day they are going to figure it all out. 

And that's ok, too. 

But until then, they will continue to be princesses, ballerinas, chefs, builders, singers, guitar players, karate choppers and kung fu panda fighters, and gift recipients from Santa.






You can read a non-preachy version of what my friends the Woolards do for Christmas here. 

These Children

Oldest girl. 

Loves her family. 

Super smart.

My favorite niece who was the first to call me "Aunt Amanda."

Used to be a little girl with flowers in her hair and a $16 Old Navy dress. 

Only boy. 

Gaps in his grin. 

Sweet to his cousins. 

Is getting cheesecake cupcakes for Christmas Eve because he's my favorite nephew.  

Be still my heart. 

FOR CHRIS

This Season in Particular

Makes me miss you more than I can describe.  

I hope you're behaving yourself up there.  

I'm sure you're the Christmas Queen.  

And this little girl got married!

This little girl got married this past Friday night. 

She was my very first cousin.  She is one of two.

I remember the day my mom told me my aunt was expecting her.

I remember when she became "Rachel" instead of the unknown baby.

She took her first steps in my hallway.

She stole my gum--chewed it--and put it back in the package while no one was looking.

She was a terror to babysit.  She lied to get me into trouble before I could tattle on her for things she actually did.

She pierced her own ears once.  This girl was NO JOKE.

And, then, one day, she got old.

And became more than a bratty punk kid I'd babysit so our parents could go to concerts and movies together like grown-ups like to do.

She sang at my wedding and was a bridesmaid.

She went to college, got a job, and has an apartment.

And, this past weekend, she got MARRIED to a great guy.

And a little piece of me got a little sad because it was the end of an era.  

But, I'm delighted because it's the beginning of something even better.  

Congrats Rachel & Josh!

Wedding Reading

This past weekend I had the pleasure of reading for my cousin's wedding.  

This is what my sister and I read:

From The Velveteen Rabbit

What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day.  "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When [someone] loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.

"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."

To know love, is to know God, for God is love.  Though we marry to spend our earthly lives with those we love the most, we will not be able to fathom complete love until we join our Heavenly Father. 

God loves Rachel and Josh.  In the words of The Velveteen Rabbit, He has loved them for a “long, long time.”  He loved them before they entered the world and He will love them for eternity. 

It’s God’s love that makes us real. 

1 Corinthians (The Message) reminds us with these words:

  The Way of Love

 1 If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.

2If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing.

3-7If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

   Love never gives up.

   Love cares more for others than for self.

   Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.

   Love doesn't strut,

   Doesn't have a swelled head,

   Doesn't force itself on others,

   Isn't always "me first,"

   Doesn't fly off the handle,

   Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,

   Doesn't revel when others grovel,

   Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

   Puts up with anything,

   Trusts God always,

   Always looks for the best,

   Never looks back,

   But keeps going to the end.

 8-10Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.

 13But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

For Robin

Driving in this

that seems to go on like this

while dressed like this

makes one very excited for this:

We're having p. 130 for dinner tonight!

L.Y.L.W.  Mrs. R.F.L.

But for now. . .

Instead of blogging my fingers off about all of the wonderful people and things and weddings and snow events I have encountered in the past week, I will take time for myself and just sit. 

There are stories to tell, pictures to share, and memories to document. 

But, for now, I choose to sit.  

And smile. 

And relax. 

Tomorrow will be here soon enough.

December

Oh December, you are my favorite.  

I used to think it was your sister,  October, with her swirly whirly leaves. 

But no, December, you are my favorite. 

I love your gloomy.  

I love your cold.  

I love the way my coffee mug feels in my hands. 

I love your glimmer of hope.  

I love your sparkly twinkly lights (yea!)

I adore this need for fire and fuzzy socks. 

I love the fluffy warm blankets and how I no longer sweat in agony underneath them. 

I love the briskness of the walk to and from my vehicle to my destination. 

I love the sweetness. 

I (tearfully) love the years gone by. 

I love the hustle.  

I love the moments I can't do anything except sigh at your wonderful self. 

Oh December, you--you, you, you are my favorite. 

Steam from the Mug.

This past semester at school I started a prayer journal.  I read the Word, I pray, and I record my thoughts almost in a letter style to God in a pink composition notebook (it was on sale for a whole quarter--love back to school!)  

Sometimes my writing is very formal with flowery language--other times it's scribble.  Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's heart wrenching, sometimes it's clippings from things that inspire me, and sometimes it just is.  

My most favorite times are the mornings I have no where to be and I can just read, pray, and write.  I also tend to savor a piping hot mug of coffee on these mornings.  YUM!  These are the mornings I post my most reflective blogs like this one, this one, or this one.  

One October morning I was having a particularly rough time with everything that had happened at school and I was pouring out my heart completely to God and I noticed the steam rising from my mug.  I drank from the mug and was instantly warmed.  And I praised God that His grace and love, like the steam, rises above our darkest moments and His love is enough to sustain and warm our souls.  

It is a beautiful thing.  

I'd love for you to have a sneak peek into my thoughts and answered prayers.  I'd love to share the joy that my Master has brought back to my world this semester.  I'd like to be completely transparent and honest with you, and allow myself to be vulnerable.  I think sometimes women bloggers want the world to think that everything is fine and dandy in their little slice of paradise.  But, real living is embracing the happy and the sad--and finding beauty in the shambles of life and continuing to walk and praise Him.  

So, if you are curious to see how God has work in my world these past few months, feel free to take a glance at my journal (seems almost scandalous doesn't it???)  If you click on the "Steam from the Mug" tab at the top you will find these musings as I find the time to post them.  These will be just snippets from my journal--not entire entries, but just enough to see how He has, and continues to, work on me.

Blessings to you and yours this Season of Joy!

Anticipation

We spend our lives in anticipation.  

I'm currently anticipating the arrival of a college pal and her cute family tomorrow evening, a wedding next weekend, Christmas break, the end of the semester, and, of course, Christmas.  

Constantly looking ahead, constantly planning, constantly thinking forward. 

But sometimes. . .I just need to be.  

I need to be content with the moment. 

I need to embrace the stillness. 

I need to recognize that I won't get these moments back, and instead of waiting and hoping and anticipating, I just need to appreciate what I've been given this very second. 

It tends to put everything back into perspective. 

Good Enough

My house is receiving a lot of company this holiday season. 

Friends, family, and the folks who grace our home on a regular basis. 

I've decided I'm not super woman.  

Therefore, you must heed this warning if you come to my house this holiday season:

You may find clutter. 

You may find boxes of things moving to and from the attic. 

You will find laundry in various seasons of putting away-age. 

You might find incomplete home improvement projects. 

You may find dishes in the sink. 

You may find dust. 

You may find unmade beds. 

You may find toys strewn all over the house. 

You may find this and that. 

You might find me in my sweatshirt and pj pants.

But, I guarantee you'll find love and celebration of the season. 

Dear friends, that will just have to be good enough. 

These are a few of my favorite things. . .

These first few weeks of December are sheer madness for the Avery family--programs, visitors, obligations, doctor's appointments, weddings, work, school, and life.  It's enough to take my breath away when I look at our calendar.

However, I'm approaching each event with joy and gratitude.  My life is filled with wonderful people and events this holiday season, and daggone it I'm going to enjoy every last minute of this season (even when it threatens to kills me!)

For example, my program at school has been this past week.  My students were incredible.  Absolutely marvelous!  I wish you could have heard them--especially Friday when they performed for a packed chapel.  And then, those sweet, sweet, sweet students presented me with this lovely arrangement:

I feel Christmasy just looking at it!  So pretty! :)

I also had the opportunity to sing at a Hospice service this week.  We honored 86 individuals who passed away under their care.  I was honored to be a part of the service, especially since Jill was one of the individuals being recognized.

Now, Aaron Saufley is a good guy and most days I wouldn't consider punching him the face.  But when he turned around and asked me if I wanted to speak a few words on Jill's behalf, I could have killed him.

First of all, I was trying not to lose all self-control.  Secondly, I wasn't prepared with eloquent words.

However, I took a few breaths and realized that if I didn't say anything, Jill would forever chide me in Heaven for not speaking on her behalf.  So, because Jill is my homegirl, I got up and spoke with Gil, Chris W., and Jordan.  Such a lovely night, but wow, what an emotional experience.

Chris' birthday was Saturday.  

I pulled a few strings and got it to snow for him.  

This morning we went to church, ate lunch at Moe's, and now we're doing what I love best about Sunday afternoons in the winter:

Snoozing in front of the fire. 

More to say. . . 

My Lerve

It snowed on your birthday.  

You're welcome.  

XOXXO

In His Presence

There are many mornings I sit at my kitchen table and drink a cup of coffee while doing my reading for the day.

I journal and reflect and read and speak to Him.

It is always good. 

It took me a long time to figure out that if I stopped making it about me and my wish list, He would come and make our time together even more incredible. 

And those are the times I feel His presence.  

When my world is crashing all around me and I feel Him.

When the sunlight casts such an heavenly glow in my kitchen.

When I ask Him specifically for an answer, open my Book, and there it is in the print.

Plain as day.

Such an incredible feeling.

To be still and to know you aren't alone.

To be still and know that you are loved.

To be still and know that He is God.

He overwhelms me.