Pumpkins

Pumpkins {favor & potential}

Pumpkins... you're seeing a lot of them. We love them! Why do we love pumpkins so much? Is it their odd shape, color, or downright enchanting way about them?

What do you think of when you see a pumpkin? Do you see the 1950's magical vessel of dreams beckoning to carry you to your destiny of ever after? Or do you see an opportunity, a potential in either in art or a baked creation?

Can we see both? Of course we can! We're living in the "&"! Not one or the other!

In various parts of the world, pumpkins are seen as enchanting, prosperous, and abundant fruits, and the seeds of a pumpkin represent dreams. YOUR dreams! God knows we have a lot of them. You have one right now, in your heart. Here lies the question. Where is your pumpkin planted? Where is it displayed? Are your seeds planted in the right conditions to grow? Is your hope and faith where they need to be? 

Maybe not... maybe you've planted yourself in doubt and the potential you thought you had is feeling a little disheartened.

You. are. enough. Because God loves you so much you have the favor you need to take another step. His grace and mercy is waiting to sweep you off your feet and carry you to an ever after of eternal love. Plant yourself there. Find abundance in His promises and truth and the potential you've felt you have in your heart and dreams will reveal themselves in the fruit, I mean, pumpkins you bear.

The next time a pumpkin catches your eye, remember you can do this and He's wanting His abundance to flow through YOU.

Toothpaste

WHY DOESN'T HE UNDERSTAND!? Seriously, you walk through the door and I'm leaning over the sink with a spaghetti covered baby and it doesn't occur to you, "Hey Hun, let's get a sitter and let me take you out tonight."

Bren had already left for work that morning and I was grumpy. It was the dead of winter, I'm pregnant with our second child and was trying to work from home in between melt downs from #1 and a house begging to be straightened up. I set Cora up with her breakfast and waddled to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Everything felt so out of place and I felt stuck at home and overwhelmed. Being an ENFP that's that last thing you want to be; stuck and overwhelmed. I frowned in the mirror feeling larger than a pregnant woman should feel, gripped my toothpaste, started brushing and looked over to my husband's side of the sink. I saw his toothpaste was nicely pushed to the end, sitting on the side of his sink and suddenly something just snapped.

"WHY?!" I spit and loudly continued talking to my reflection, "How in the world is my ISTJ husband concerned about the shape of his toothpaste and yet clearly can't see we're in need of shaping up and rearranging ourselves?"

Let me first say, I love Brendon dearly and I adore our differences but when you're frustrated and tired, it becomes easy to see differences as nuances and I directed all of my anger at that toothpaste. I took the two tubes, placed them together and sarcastically said, "I now pronounce you man and wife." and walked out of the bathroom.

My husband and I are very different and on top of that we come from very different families. But God's intention, design and commitment for and in marriage does not rely and is not changed by irreconcilable differences.

Something needed to change that day. It wasn't our marriage, it was our hearts. I knew better and I wanted to be better. I sat on the bed for a long time when Cora was taking a nap contemplating my thoughts. With a deep breath I opened my heart and reminded myself that I loved that Brendon was different than me. He loves planning, enjoys budgeting and thrives in quality alone time. He gets energy within the stillness of a room and finds God there and I LOVE that and it's in many ways helped me to hear God there too when I'm with him. When we were first married he would come home from work give me a kiss, and tuck away for a few minutes to unwind and it didn't bother me because usually I was working on a craft or finishing work myself. However, once our first child came into our lives and she didn't care if we were extro- or introverted  it became easy to misconstrue that part of him. So I asked God what my next step was and I remembered what my parents told me as a part of their marriage advice for when I met this crossroad, "give HIM to God."

That changed everything. You see, it's not my responsibility or right to change or make Brendon more LIKE ME. I fell in love with the man he is and it was my job to honor and respect that man. It is GOD'S JOB to make him good in however way that may be.

When our differences clash or when we misunderstand each other our flesh wants to immediately say, "Yea, I want nothing to do with you right now" and if not nurtured by the unconditional love of God (seeking His truths and promises in your relationship), that cut can go pretty deep.

But Brendon and I understand that our marriage isn't about us. It's about establishing a reflection of God's love to His people. I remembered, sitting on the bed that morning, that my joy first came from my strength in God (Neh 8:10) and to be honest, it was lacking quite a bit those last few days. The shape of my husband's toothpaste didn't mean he had it all together and I needed to trust God and encourage who God made my husband to be; not his weaknesses but what I knew his strengths to be.

When he came home that night I gave him a kiss and told him to take a few minutes and look over his to do list in the study (he loves looking over that list). His eyes widened and he looked charmingly confused. That night while I was giving Cora a bath I heard dishes being loaded in the dishwasher. I smiled and looked at the two tubes of toothpaste standing together on the sink and whispered to myself, "I do."

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.

Go out with a Thump!

I was frozen. Suddenly everything I knew... everything I was, felt like it just disappeared. Everything in my mind went absent and I felt the blood rush to my head. It was like missing the winning shot of a championship, or not getting your final finished in time. It didn't matter how much I prepared, it just didn't happen.

You've probably heard the saying, "Go out with a Bang!" But what happens when you don't go out with a bang? What happens if it's more like a thump?

I've been professionally singing for 12 years and counting and I have learned some MAJOR lessons along the way. This past Easter I decided to take my little girl (6 months) on a business trip and help a church out in Maryland with their community service week and worship services. At one point of the trip I was wearing 3 shirts of different positions of the church layered on top of each other. I was ready to be all that I could be, despite whatever fatigue I may have been feeling. Easter rolled around and the end of the third service was approaching. The pastor was closing out and introduced a song I had written at the beginning of my ministry that spoke about our lives in Jesus and the sacrifice He made so we could go beyond the dissatisfaction and distortion of the world and rest in His grace and mercy. It's a beautiful song and I'm sure they would have loved it lol ......but as the introduction played I forgot every single line but the first. I shook my head and said, "Sorry, I can't do this."

THUMP.

The pastor understandably came back on stage and dismissed the congregation and I sat for a few minutes trying to remember my name. Shortly after that came back I got up and walked down the hall to pick up my little girl from the child care. She greeted me with smiles and baby kisses, knowing nothing of the confused failure I was feeling inside. After a few hugs and best wishes, I packed up my car and headed home with one question on my mind; Why?

You see, sometimes we learn lessons we didn't think we needed to learn. I was driving and felt the sting of my pride being bruised and suddenly realized I needed more checking up than I thought I did. I drove in silence and just allowed God to speak to me. And in a still, soft voice I heard Him say, "My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9). I remembered, what I do, isn't about me. Me; as a daughter, a friend, a wife and a mother, none of it is about me. Nothing that I do as Brittany White is for my own glory, everything that I do, failure or success, is for God.

I was relieved and comforted by His words. I was comforted in the fact that people saw a human on stage that day, willing to give her best and her all to glorify God and even in her weakness, He was still Risen and His presence was still there. The irony of it happening on Easter was just the humor of God. A friend of mine called it, a "Godwink" which is simply an experience where you'd say, "Wow, what are the odds of that!"

Did I want to quit and run the other direction? In that initial moment of weakness, suuuure. But when you realize that as long as the willingness is there, and that God accepts all that you have to give (2 Cor. 8:12), you understand that He accepts even our failures too and He expects us to pick ourselves back up and keep serving Him in the ways we're called to; in our professions, in our homes, and in our hearts.

So if you've had a bad day, if you're failing a grade, or if you just so happened to forget every single line of a song you wrote, let it go. Because it's not about you and as long as you're trying your best and working as hard as you can in your calling, God's grace will be sufficient and what you have to give will be enough... even if it's just a THUMP!

Melissa, Alisha, & Me

(dedicated to children with special needs)

She wasn't a popular girl by any means. There was something special about her. When she would do her school work there was an adult that helped her. I don't remember her having a lot of friends. I do remember her always being happy.

I was in the 3rd or 4th grade and she gave me an invitation to her birthday party. Melissa had invited numerous people to her birthday party but I remember hearing that not many of my friends were planning to go. I took the invitation home and showed my mom and asked her if I should go. Mom told me Melissa would be grateful and encouraged. I remember nodding with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Was I embarrassed? No. Was I ignorant? Yes.

We walked up to her house and I rang the doorbell. I'm pretty sure my Mom and I had gotten her something Lisa Frank. Her mom answered the door with a smile and let us in. Melissa came over quickly to greet us and I gave her my gift. In return she gave me a hat and invited me to her tea party. There at the table was another friend or two. I wanted to feel sorry for her, but she was so happy... she gave me nothing to feel sorry about.

Her mom had made tiny finger sandwiches and we had an absolute blast. I remember my imagination running wild in the colors and party trinkets. The feeling I had received that day is the reason I stand for babies and children with special needs being carried to full term and assisted through childhood today.

The next year I was transferred to a charter school. Making friends has never really been a problem for me as I usually don't have trouble asserting who I am to others (loud, ADHD, outgoing, wild, the usual). Every day at lunch I watched a young girl being pushed around in a wheel chair around the playground. I decided it was time I went to talk to her. She communicated clearly, she struggled with expression and control over her motor skills but that didn't bother me because she had the same happiness Melissa had. Her name was Alisha and she was my friend. Every day at lunch I would swing and talk to her, sometimes play the "Titanic" song on my recorder for her and set up scenarios for us to be adventurers. It was such a relief to be able to be myself and to bask in the joy Alisha had.

Today, every week I try to dedicate my Monday to head downtown and volunteer at a pregnancy help center. Sometimes my encouragement and counsel is focused around children with special needs. I've learned not to be afraid of the unknown but to trust and pursue Christ and in turn He will light the path of which we fear to walk. The joy that Melissa and Alisha brought to my life has yet to be replicated. It was special and they deserved every bit of attention they needed because of it.

I recently heard a saying, "Love doesn't count chromosomes." As a child I didn't see brokenness in Melissa or Alisha. I saw something different. They were different then who I was and I wanted whatever they had to offer to help make me a better person. The love they had to give for one person was the same love they could give to 20 people. It was truly unconditional. It was real.

This world could use more authentic, unconditional love.

Did you check on me?

I had just put Cora down for bed and was straightening up a little bit before hitting the sack myself. I picked up her tiny clothes and tossed them in the laundry room and peeked into her room to see her little body lying peacefully, the only movement was her chest and her pacifier. I smiled and suddenly remembered me and my sister asking my mom every single morning if she had come in to check on us while we slept the night before.

"Mom, did you check on me?" My mom would always answer yes and then we asked her how we looked. Occasionally she would throw in a funny comment but most of the time she would say we were peaceful. I was never let down by any of her answers. To be honest, I believe I only cared about the first half of the question.

"Did you check on me?" --- "Yes."

There's a reason why as a child I asked that question. Just knowing my parents were there was securing. Knowing that in my most vulnerable state, they were looking after me.

Sometimes, we ask God a similar question, "Were You there?" We can ask Him that every single day and the answer will be the same. "Yes." But we don't always believe it. We don't always sleep peacefully. We don't always feel His love surrounding us.

What keeps us from believing He is there? Maybe we don't feel like we're worth it. Maybe we've been abandoned before by the world. As a child, who I was and what I had done did not factor into the question I asked my mom every single morning. It didn't matter to me then like it does now. I just wanted to know if she saw me.

We need to go back to that. We need to remember that no matter the choices we've made that God is there. He is always there, and He loves you that much to be with you in your most vulnerable state, whether that be sleeping, doing errands as you hold animosity in your heart, or curled up in the corner of the room wondering why it had to be you.

He loves you. He sees you. And He begs you to ask every morning, "God, did you check on me?" Because He longs to answer in a soft and still voice, "Yes."

"The Lord himself will go before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forget you. Don’t be afraid and don’t worry.” Deuteronomy 31:8

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and he saves those whose spirits have been crushed." Psalm 34:18

My First Valentine

Dating was rough. I'm the eldest of three girls so when it came time for my age group to start dating, it did not go as well as I wanted for me. I remember being frustrated a lot of the time. Being the first to go through it all didn't help either. I wanted so bad to be like some of the other girls. But when you're young minded like that and figuring yourself out, there are bound to be days when you'd give anything to be someone else. Anyway, when Valentine's Day would roll around, the student committee would come to each room and drop off flowers purchased by people during lunch. I remember thinking how nice it would be to just have that attention and love that some of the girls were getting. To be desired on every level... (or so I thought).

High School.

My parents didn't want me dating until I was 18 (preferably 30). However, by the time I was 16, I convinced them that group dates were "for reals legit" and that I was safe and sound. I stayed safe and surrounded myself around a good group of people and I was smart enough not to put myself into any bad or regretful situations. But it didn't take long before I realized the void I had wasn't being filled by any guy that came across my path and when the flower was finally placed on my desk at school one year it wasn't nearly as satisfying as I had hoped.

When I got home, I gave my flower to my little sister who at the time was around 10 or 11 years old. I watched her smile and put it in a vase. I sat on my bed and did my homework for a few hours and then there was a knock on my bedroom door. I looked up and saw my dad standing in the doorway with a teddy bear and chocolates. I could feel my cheeks stretch from smiling so wide and I ran and gave him a big hug. I watched him give each of my sisters their gifts and then turn to my mom and give her flowers and a kiss. My heart was full, but not because of my dad, although, he never failed at being our valentine year after year until we were married. My heart was full because my dad (and mom) loved Jesus first. They loved Jesus so much that it spilled over into our lives and touched each one of us in a unique and personal way.

You see, Jesus' love, well His kind of love is more than a flower bought in a High School cafeteria. Song of Solomon 8:6 states, "... for love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the LORD." That was what I wanted; strength and passion, but not from a man. I wanted it forever; to be eternally mine.

I accepted Christ at a young age as my Father and friend but I didn't acknowledge Him as one that could hold my very being and comfort me in unconditional way as a lover would until that day when I saw my family operating in the love of Christ. It just clicked... probably because I was looking for and open to it.

Ephesians 3:17-19 states, "I pray that Christ will live in your hearts by faith and that your life will be strong in love and be built on love. And I pray that you and all God’s holy people will have the power to understand the greatness of Christ’s love—how wide and how long and how high and how deep that love is. Christ’s love is greater than anyone can ever know, but I pray that you will be able to know that love. Then you can be filled with the fullness of God."

So although it took me 16 years to realize Jesus had not only been the first but most fulfilling valentine I could ever have, once I knew in my heart that was true, I was filled with the fullness of God.

My journey wasn't (still isn't) perfect though. I was alone sometimes and I almost settled in a few relationships. That empty feeling would come and go but when it did, I just reminded myself that God had a plan and accepted the fact that I may never know the greatness of God's love for me. I stood on his principals and trusted the wisdom of others. I was vulnerable and allowed my heart to break and in turn God began to make whatever pain I went through beautiful to understand what it meant to be unconditional.

Flash forward to one sunrise in May, when a young man approached me and said hello... and suddenly I felt the presence of God surround me.

Happy Valentine's Day

Star light, Star bright

I live on the outskirts of Houston, so seeing the night sky isn't as pretty as it used to be when I lived on a little island in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland. However, every night when I go upstairs I glance up at the reasonably sized window we have placed in the wall of our stairway and I see a star.

Just one.

And no matter the day I have, I feel like it shines for me, reminding me that no matter how busy and artificial the world gets around me, it's still possible to shine an authentic and intentional light. Now, does everyone see that star? Who knows, but the answer doesn't matter because I see it and so it's done its job.

In your life, there are going to be polluted and artificial relationships and occurrences. You're not going to want to shine. You're going to want to hide, burn out, and everything in you is going to try to tell you it's not worth it. Don't listen to confusion, hatred and jealousy. Keep shining. Be intentional and authentic towards others. Don't be afraid to be vulnerable. Find your Joy and hold on to it tight. Swallow the promise of unconditional Love and Peace and allow yourself to glow from within. It doesn't matter if everyone sees you. You're going to go places where everyone can find you and you're going to find yourself in places where it's harder to see the light you have to offer but keep shining. Don't give up.

Because even if one person sees you, you've made a difference.

Photo by: Thierry Cohen 

The Art of Forgiving

Ah, forgive and forget. A saying that continues to stand the test of time. Probably because we human beings continue to struggle with it in every aspect of our lives.

Either we forgive easily but have trouble forgetting, or we forget and down the road when the opportunity arises and an incident is remembered, we hesitate to forgive. Or we struggle with both and make it on a few people's "Those we do not speak of" lists. It's amazing how with billions of people in the world there to encourage you to carry on with your life, ONE person can really tip you over edge and turn you into the type of character you and others despise.

I try to love everyone. I try not to judge quickly and I'd like to believe with the help of a supernatural unconditional love I do a pretty good job at staying even keeled. However, it doesn't always work that way. There are those nights where I'll be doing laundry or the dishes and all of a sudden, it triggers. A memory of how I was wronged or I wronged another. I remind myself over and over again that the incident has been forgiven and that it's time to move on but my body is begging me to become angry and guilty and to stay that way. I literally feel my spirit yelling at my mind, "Nooooooooo!!!!" Slow motion and all.

It happens, we fall. So the question is, how do we get out of this situation? How do we master the art of forgiving and forgetting? I'm going to just take a shot with this. It's not the perfect answer, but it definitely helps me.

Perspective. Love. Jesus.

Nice and simple, huh? Wrong-O. Those three things are tough to recall in the heat of the battle. But let's take it from the top, starting with perspective.

Perspective.

When you're feeling low or angry, take a moment to look around you. Are you alone? Is it night time? Are you over-tired? Have you had a tough day? Are you able to understand that we live in a fallen world and therefore our bodies are not only decaying physically but trying desperately to decay mentally and emotionally as well? A lot of the time, anger and guilt can be controlled if you admit the circumstances surrounding you are having an outside impact on the way you're feeling inside. This is where the term "sleep it off" comes in handy. Now, I don't think you should go to bed angry (Eph. 4:26) but admitting that you've had a rough day and that you are struggling with anger or guilt can relieve that pressure and allow God to speak to you as you take a chill pill.

Love.

This is a little tougher to swallow. Loving or feeling loved in a situation where you're guilty or angry can be difficult to achieve. However, if you've gained some perspective you're well on your way to understanding this next step. When you've become aware you're struggling with forgiveness or guilt you become open to the necessity of love; the dependency of something greater than what you have. It's like the milk to your cookies, the cheese to your macaroni, the water to your fire. But self love and love from a family member or friend isn't enough. Let's be real, it was conditional love that got you here in the first place. What you need is unconditional love. A love that goes beyond the feelings and "oh mm gee's" of life and stands firm in the midst of the storm raging inside of you. That my friend can only be given through a dependency on Jesus Christ.

Jesus.

The greatest, most fulfilling DIY project you will ever take part in. This is where, after you've gained perspective and realized your need of love that you put into motion the most important step in the art of forgiving. Jesus Christ. I say DIY because your relationship with Him is something only you can enable. Praying, devotion, worship, fellowship, and lifestyle are all pieces to the relationship we are held accountable in. The more we actively seek Him in every aspect of our lives, the better understanding we have of the love He has to offer. You see, Jesus mastered the art of forgiving by choosing to forget for the sake of love. He came to Earth, took our sin, died for us, and rose again so that we may be forgiven and being forgiven means choosing to let go of the acknowledgment that we've failed. God doesn't just forget, He's all knowing, but he chooses to and this is how conditional love becomes unconditional.

The only way we can master the art of forgiving is understanding that we can't master it by ourselves. Ever. Our dependency on Jesus gives us a love we can share with others and convicts us to gain perspective when we're having those tough days. Those days where we just feel short from the finish line.

Psalm 62:1-2
"I find rest in God; only he can save me. He is my rock and my salvation. He is my defender; I will not be defeated."

National Right to Life Day 2014

It was January 22nd 2014. I woke up and knew I had to head downtown but every bone in my body screamed to stay in bed. I had stayed up late working on a few graphic design projects and my eyes just couldn't bear the rays of sun peaking through the blinds. Cora started crying so I got up, fed and changed her and sat on the bed trying to decide whether or not to go downtown for the day. I decided to go. The drive seemed long and my mind and my heart seemed to be in a horrible disagreement with one another regarding how awake and attentive I truly was. And then I met her.

She was afraid. Although it was a beautiful sunny day she didn't see the sun. She couldn't feel anything. She had just found out she was pregnant. 

"I just celebrated my birthday with my 22 year old daughter," she said as she smiled at the fresh memory of spending time with her daughter. "I'm 41 years old...I can't do this again." She took a deep breath and looked down. She felt trapped.

I stood there in awe. I couldn't imagine having a child at that age now knowing the amount of work that goes into raising a child. I stood there in silence for a moment looking at the face of my little one.

"Do you know why we have children?" I asked her not fully knowing where the conversation would end. She was silent. I continued, "My father was the youngest of ten. His mother had him at an older age than you are now and had she terminated her pregnancy, I wouldn't be here with you now." She started to cry. I scooted closer to her. "I'm not here to make you feel guilty for thinking the thoughts you are or feeling the way you do. I'm here to remind you what children do for this world. Because my grandmother chose to have my father she not only passed on her sweet and strong nature, she also passed on the hope of Jesus Christ. That's the only way this world can get better; passing down His promises, love, and hope." She grabbed my hand.

I continued. "I know you're afraid but God is going make good out of this situation by renewing your strength and bringing into your life someone who will one day look into the eyes of someone unsure and remind them of the stability of God's love."

And like that, it was as if her crashing world finally came to a halt. I saw her look into the sun. She then turned to me, thanked me, gave me a hug and walked away.

She was at peace.

Romans 8:28
We know that in everything God works for the good of those who love him. They are the people he called, because that was his plan.

What are the days in-between?

What do they mean? How do they affect you?

It was the year I was planning to be married (2011) when I stumbled upon the film "Just Married"(2003) starring Ashton Kutcher and Brittany Murphy. I'm pretty sure I was doing laundry or homework and zoning in and out of the film. I watched as over and over again the newlyweds struggled to make sense of their marriage to one another. As comical as it was, by the end of the film I was ready for them to catch a break. Lucky for me, Raymond Barry, the actor playing Ashton's father, stepped into the picture and delivered a quote I would never forget:

"You never see the hard days in a photo album, but those are the ones that get you from one happy snap shot to the next." -Mr. Leezak

The hard days. These were the ones I wanted to capture in my heart and encourage others to get through. They play an important role in our character and story in the lives we lead. So I'm starting this blog to inspire, rejoice, grieve, and ponder the most important days of our lives.

The days in-between.