My dear friends...

In life we tend to try to side with one of two questions, "what can I get while I'm here?" and "what can I give while I'm here?" But the reality is life is a bit of both. It's fear that drives us from one side to the next. Fear to not have anything in the end; materials, family, meaning, purpose. But when approaching life as a field, instead of a charity or a store, that's when you grasp the entity of all that life is.

It is a field that needs to be worked and harvested. We can plan what we know, and prepare for the unknown but the best thing we can do is never cease in working; mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. We stop to rest, but we do not quit our purpose. For when we do, dreams remain dreams, darkest moments never see the dawn, and passion slowly dies. Storms will come, drought will threaten our future but hope is a powerful tool, and paired with endurance, it IS unstoppable.

Mike Brown was a man of great imagination and will. He worked and he harvested the most beautiful memories and lessons in life I've seen. I would sit at the table with him and talk about his adventures with the wife and kids he loved so dearly. He left us too soon and with that, there is great pain. But his death is not to be feared but rather remembered as an illuminating moment in all of our lives. A moment that neither asks what can I give or what can I get but instead, "What do I do?"

Although his absence we grieve, his spirit and his faith will help us endure. We carry on his strength, we continue his imagination. We give back to others the time he gave each one of us and in return we continue receiving the peace and fulfillment that his work on this earth is still continuing.

Rest in peace my friend, we'll take it from here.

Beverly & Me

I was singing quietly. It was her time, I knew it, but I couldn't help but want to retrieve every note that left my lips as my stance against death. But I kept singing her hymns and within moments she relaxed and said goodbye to this broken world with her final breath.

I sat at my piano with my 8 month old daughter and cried. I wanted so bad for her to meet her great great grandmother. What a joy it would have been. I was planning to fly out in the middle of this month but her body gave out sooner than expected.

I went to bed early that night and found myself thrown into a mind full of memories and reenactments of the stories she would tell. I saw her standing poised with a smile of ambition as the camera captured her mischievous stare. I saw her passing my great grandfather and looking back to see the young man he was, dressed in uniform on his way to see her at the roof of the hotel. I saw her fighting as a wife and mother to be all that she could be. Her grace never leaving her side and her passion fueling her every move.

As my mind kept flowing with memories, I laid next to my sleeping husband and pictured growing old with him. That's what you do when elderly people pass in your life. You're forced to realize that one day, you will be in that place. His body was like a furnace and so I snuck my frozen feet over to him and placed my hand within his and fell asleep.

And for a moment I wondered if it was all worth it.

The next morning I woke up to a day that needed to be lived, a house that needed to be cleaned, work that needed to be done, and a baby girl that needed to be loved. I was quickly overwhelmed as I woke up to Cora's stirring in her crib.

I sat her down and she watched an episode of Maurice Sendak's "Little Bear" as I scurried over to the coffee corner and made myself a cup.

Suddenly I heard her giggling and turned around to see her up on all fours crawling away, trying to grab a hold of our Siberian Husky, Misha. I ran over to applaud and encourage her to keep moving. She had shown signs here and there but today she just decided she had it within her to get up and go.

It's funny how that happens to us, sometimes unwillingly. When we're set in our ways, or feel like we're unable to progress or move on any further, somehow we find the strength within ourselves to keep pushing forward, to move on to better things.

My beautiful and healthy eight month old reminded me of something incredibly important; God makes all things new. Although simple, she began a new chapter in her life and welcomed it with open arms. In similar ways and as difficult as it can be, the passing that occurs with our loved ones or even just a season we've been living for a long time, give us an opportunity to make unique turning points in our lives; to depend solely on God and trust somewhere inside us there is an instinctive sense of strength through the simple joy of being a creation of God and to know every piece of us, even the broken ones are filled with purpose.

You lived your purpose and you lived it well Grandma. I love you Beverly Lou Wood Blair.

What I deserve...

Yea... she definitely doesn't deserve to be happy.

You've said it. I've said it. Somehow, we get to a point in our lives where we feel we have the right to determine the blessings or curses that fall into the laps of others. What in our right minds enable us to think someone (including ourselves) does or doesn't deserve something? Pride, jealousy, envy, bitterness, more yucky fickle feelings... and it's so unfortunate that we can go through those thoughts after working hard to be "the better man." But it happens.

This past weekend I was painting our house with my husband and somehow we got onto a conversation that ran similar to me saying, "Ah, he treated you badly? You definitely didn't deserve that." My husband, carefully edging one of the doors quickly responded, "I deserve death."

At first, I looked at him like he was crazy, hoping to meet a crooked smile in the corner of his mouth but he kept edging carefully; his eyes set on his work. I stood on my small step stool quietly and thought about what he said. I thought about those times I hit the nail on the head in my life and felt complete and good and then I thought about the times when I miss that mark completely, make a fool of myself and bring others down with me. But death? Do I deserve death? Yes. Let's take it a little deeper.

Now, you may say, "death? Come on Brit, that's a little harsh." But we are already living that punishment.  Romans 6:23 states, "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." We are already ruined. Every one of us. We are walking definitions of death. Day by day by day by day our bodies continue to destroy themselves, our hearts continue to betray our minds and our spirits abandon us if not anchored in the everlasting love God gifted us; freedom. The ability to set ourselves free from guilt, shame, bitterness, anger, and deceit through our belief in Christ.

So when I think about my husbands response I realize he wasn't wanting a death wish. He was simply saying, everything I am is because of Christ and without Him, I'm ruined.

Tonight I scrolled down my newsfeed on Facebook and peered into the small glimpses of the lives of my social friends and instead of sitting in the judges seat, that can be oh so easily sat in, I sat on my clean laundry-in need of folding filled floor and watched God bring beauty from ashes and turn rubble into royalty. Because who am I to say what other's deserve? Who are you to say what I deserve? Go live your life free from jealousy, judgement and comparison.

Because I'll go ahead, save you the time, and say what I deserve. Death.