Change

Last summer I spent an evening in Savannah, Georgia. My mom and I embarked on our yearly trip to meet some family members in Tennessee, and what was supposed to just be a fun rest stop amidst a 14 hour drive turned into a sort of turning point for me.

After a bad breakup and several attempts to find love (or more like comfort, in hindsight) in all the wrong places, prior to this day I hadn’t thought about how much I needed a new outlook . My mom has always been the person who understands me better than anyone else could dream of, and a week of me and her on the road did more good for me than I realized at the time.

To most people, this photo looks like nothing more than a semi-blurry picture of a girl in a restaurant. But I see a hundred problems hiding under the surface: a girl who has lost her sense of direction in life, who is beyond frustrated, mentally counting the calories in the meal she just ordered, and wondering how much longer she can stand to be alive.

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I was obsessed with appearances. I had to be the skinniest, prettiest person I could turn myself into. I had to be fit, working out for hours upon hours everyday until I felt sick. I learned to love the feeling of an empty stomach. I still do, though now I wish I didn’t. I  piled on makeup to the best of my ability and wore outfits that I thought made me look smaller. I had to fix everything, but found new problems with myself everyday. I took selfies and posted them on Instagram to prove to others and myself that I had confidence.

There is nothing wrong with taking care of oneself, or wanting to look nice and be healthy, but I took it to an extreme. I loved when my extended family commented on how great I suddenly looked. I loved that boys suddenly paid attention to me and girls wanted to be my friend. I loved that I had a secret, that I could reinvent myself by choosing who I spent my time with, that I could pretend to fit in with people other than my immediate family for a change.

But those things did not equate to happiness. I did not find salvation in any of them. All I felt was a constant ache for more, but I didn’t get anything more until I proved that, while I may not necessarily deserve it, I could work hard for better things. I could have the best intentions, be positive, and be genuine as often as possible.

I needed God, and acted (even believed at times) that He and I were perfectly okay with each other, but I found that I couldn’t simultaneously be abusing/lying to myself and be in a healthy relationship with Him. Praying means next to nothing if I turn around and act irrational the next minute, whether that be in the way I treat my body or the poor decisions I make to feel less empty.

Relying on frivolous things like appearances, other people’s validation, and success to bring you joy will only result in feeling worse off in the end. I was never more broken than I was at that time, but it was in the brokenness that I was able to make a change.

I didn’t figure everything out on that trip. I didn’t suddenly turn into a new person or have a great relationship with God in a day. Even now, our relationship falters. I’m human and while it’s not an excuse, it is a fact that I’m not going to be perfect. However, it was a turning point.

Throughout that single week, I made decisions that I truly believed would better my life. And sanity, if we’re honest. I had incredible conversations about salvation, thought a lot about what God wanted me to do and how He wanted me to treat myself, and it was because of those decisions that I finally was able to move forward with my life.

I have never been able to say that I am happy. Even in the best moments, I didn’t feel a constant sense of joy. But even on my darker days, I have hope now. I wouldn’t have that if I hadn’t made difficult, but responsible decisions back then. I had to face reality instead of complaining about it, and as soon as I did, my entire outlook on myself and my existence changed. I changed. I grew.

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More Like You

I see You in everything

So I know I am not alone

I know that You will call me home

 

Can You show me a better way

To live my life

All for Your grace

 

I want to take hold of You now

To just find out

How to be a better person

How to make You proud

 

You say that You are with me

And there’s no end to

Unfailing love everlasting

 

Passion and persistence

I wish I could do it for You too

 

So I will give You praise

I will give you all

Of my heart still beating

My everyday

 

I have heard You in the distance

The distance is in me

 

When we’re close I can feel You

When I’m far I need You

 

You are in everything

 

Insecurities, Trials, and John 13:7

Thank God for a God that actually cares about our well-being.

“Jesus replied, ‘You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.'” (John 13:7)

As we live in a culture obsessed with bodies – equally our own and each other’s – there will likely be many times in which it’ll become difficult to keep our opinions about ourselves in perspective.

Is it sometimes shallow? Maybe. Is it a challenge regardless? Absolutely. I, as does everyone else, struggle with insecurities about my personality and capabilities but that’s another topic for another day. Right now we’re focusing on the stuff that shouldn’t matter nearly as much, but does anyway: outward appearance.

After having relatively short hair for well over a year and being semi-overweight, I decided that I wanted neither of those things for myself ever again. I was convinced that if I was stick-skinny with hair that hit my waist, I would be considered “pretty.” My long thick hair acted as a shield to hide behind as well, so that was an added bonus.

When I achieved both the long hair and stick-skinny body, big shocker, I was still insecure. Sure I felt better about my appearance in some ways, but my attention just shifted from one set of insecurities to another.

On top of that, once I reached my goal it wasn’t enough. I needed more. It seemed counteractive to stop after all the time and effort I had put in, so I didn’t. I worked out for hours upon hours, kept a journal in which I made sure every bite throughout my day was accounted for, ate so little I got used to feeling dizzy and loved that I never felt hungry anymore. I made secret Pinterest boards of tiny girls with long hair as inspiration to keep pushing myself. I took notice of the sudden increase in positive attention I was receiving.

I haven’t touched my calorie-counting notebook in months. I still have it at hand, I know exactly where it is, but I haven’t touched it. I’ll get rid of it in due time when I know I won’t be tempted to simply start a new one.

The reason I’m mentioning some details of my problems with food is not to garner attention or sympathy of any kind. Dear Lord, this is not about me saying “Hey feel sorry for me even though I did this to myself!” I debated whether or not it was a good idea to share any personal information at all, but in the end I decided that it serves a purpose. I’ve learned a lot from it and while I’m only skirting over the details here, the lesson in the end is what’s worth sharing.

As Joyce Meyer says, “I may not be where I want to be, but thank God I’m not where I used to be.”

I’m at a point where I have gained weight because I’m actually eating consistently. Though sometimes I still tell people I have eaten when I haven’t. I’m finding myself comparing my body to the women on Instagram who have unnaturally contorted their bodies, no matter what size, to appear curvy in all the right places. With my slouchy posture and my bodies natural tendency to send all my fat to my belly and face, I often feel quite literally like the grossest person to walk the earth. But man, I can eat and actually enjoy it most of the time. I don’t panic anymore because I don’t have the time or energy to work out for 5 or more hours everyday. I don’t panic when I don’t get to work out at all, though granted I probably should move around more than I do now. I can think about things that actually matter and leave the house without looking “perfect” and be okay with it.

God did this thing to me that I absolutely hated, and I’m still not loving, but I am beyond grateful for. He took away all my crutches at once. He made me feel uglier and more insecure than I have ever felt.

I decided my hair wasn’t good enough anymore. That it desperately needed blonde highlights. So after my failed attempt and a 5 hour hair appointment in which they turned my long curls into an actual rat’s nest that I couldn’t run my fingers through, I had to cut my hair insanely short. And it was a bad cut. Really. Bad. Hair: gone.

I felt like God was pushing me to quit the job that kept me working out consistently (for reasons beyond just that). Also I was at home more often due to taking a break from school, which meant quicker access to food and more people to keep me accountable for how much I ate. Weight: gained.

As an added bonus, my acne came back and it hit me even harder than it did when I was 15. Face: irritated and scarred.

When this all happened, I was embarrassed. I didn’t want to leave the house, I didn’t want people to see me, I didn’t want people to think I was okay with looking the way I did even though there was nothing I could do about it right away (and I didn’t even look bad, nor was it a big deal at all, but obviously my head was not in the rational thinking zone at the time). There was a lot of crying, some anger on my part, but thank God it happened because I learned firsthand about the difference between taking care of oneself and being obsessive.

I’ve never been satisfied with the way I look. I’ve had multiple drastic style changes, hair changes, makeup changes, weight changes, anything you can think of. I like to try new things because it’s fun, but mostly I do it because once I get an idea in my head I somehow convince myself that I need to do it or I won’t be complete. Which, obviously, is completely illogical. However, the insecure part of my brain convinces itself that that one change is what will make me feel better. Again, illogical, because it never works.

But God broke me of that mentality. Not only did he take away the things that made me feel “pretty” and comfortable so that I would be forced to appreciate the person He made me to be and stop freaking out about every insignificant and minor detail, but He also put people into my life who unknowingly helped a lot.

He gave me a close friend who supports me, talks about the way I look and dress positively, but would 100% kindly tell me the truth if prompted. She often greets me with an enthusiastic “You look so cute,” and looks for positives in the things I am insecure about.

He also gave me a boyfriend who doesn’t cater to my every whim. He loves me, he is kind, he does things for me, he compliments me often. He also recognizes that while he can encourage me, that’s all he can do. So many women look to their significant others to save them. To worship the ground they walk on and baby them every time they get a little bit down on themselves or knocked down by every little problem, but that only perpetuates an emotionally dependent attitude. I’m grateful that I was given a relationship in which we can support, love, comfort, and talk to each other about anything as a team, but at the end of the day we know we can’t change the negative things in one another. He can’t make me be less insecure and I don’t expect him to because that’s my problem I have to face. And in hindsight, I wouldn’t want a boyfriend who showers me with compliments solely to make me feel better because I know that every time he calls me beautiful, every time he hugs me tighter when I’m about to leave, every time he does anything romantic or kind or loving he wholeheartedly means it. Romanticism for the sake of romanticism has no real heart and I’m grateful that God gave me somebody who won’t coddle me.

So yeah, I’m not going to lie and turn this into some huge redemption story. I’m still insecure. Everyone is insecure to some degree. Confidence is just faking it until it doesn’t bother you anymore, but with God I was able to really put things into perspective and see how little the problems I have with myself matter. I still have moments throughout the day when I look in the mirror and I’m not happy with what’s looking back at me. I still have moments when I fail. I still have moments when I let my emotions get the best of me.

But they are moments. They will come and they will pass and we are given the strength to choose how we will respond to them and we can be forgiven when we mess up. I can choose to sit around and mope all day about the way I look, or I can get up and do something else or even go (healthily and within reason) do something about it.

God taking away what made me comfortable was what pushed me to realize how ridiculously caught up in myself I was, but I could have easily chosen to ignore it and feel sorry for myself instead. We are not made to be complacent bystanders, and God often puts us into situations and expects us to turn it into something positive and useful. Whether it is bettering ourselves or being able to relate to and help others with similar situations (or, more likely, both of those things simultaneously), there are no coincidences if you choose to look beyond only your feelings.

“So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you must endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world.” (1 Peter 1:6-7)

Living

Once woven into mine, these severed hands loved me then and they care for me now

But hands are not houses and houses only become homes if the people inside them bring inanimate things to life

A bedside lamp won’t just be a grey lamp with a white shade but a means of which to swallow every line Atticus Finch will speak past 3 a.m. when I’m feeling lost again

And my bed will no longer be the only place I can rest

I am cared for, I know, but love that was born without wings is a baby bird never taught to fly: jumping from twig walls and willing to die trying, so show him that wings are not evil extremities ready to steal him away

They are tools worthy of pride, capable of taking him anywhere his mind and body push him to go

And let him go there

This is the kind of heartache that camps out in the sun for so long it becomes dull, shriveled into nothing and obsolete

I can’t bring myself to throw it away; it’s become something to look at and remember that it once sustained entire lives

There are days to come when sleep will only appear because I am tired, and Joy will be sitting calmly at the foot of my bed waiting for me to wake up; get some rest and get back out of bed in the morning

Show me that it’s possible and I’ll tell them that I’ve seen it

We can be happy without metal chains slithering around all of our feet

You can love me if You want to, but I am prepared to embrace the entire universe regardless

To look at constellations like blueprints even if they don’t make sense yet; to build something out of the stardust anyway

I will live right here or in a thousand inhospitable places – anything You can imagine – and never hesitate to call it a home

Our home, full of life


 

Hopeless Wanderer – Mumford & Sons

Online Store Launch (officially, yay!)

If you’ve been in any sort of contact with me over the past 8 months or so, you’ll have heard about my plan to open up an eventual Etsy store to coincide with this blog. After countless design and product and vision changes, it is finally up and running with my first four products!

I chose to create two designs based on two bible verses that I find equally encouraging and impactful, yet still simple and encompasses who God is: 1 Corinthians 13:13 (“And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.”) and Isaiah 43:2 (“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.”).

Both are available as prints in three sizes. You can also get 1 Corinthians 13:13 on a tee shirt, and the Isaiah 43:2 print is available on a tote bag. I’ve attached images below, but feel free to visit my Etsy as well!

www.etsy.com/shop/live3one 

Thanks for being so supportive and patient as I worked out all the kinks!

 

watersprint2watersteewaterstotewaterstoteandprint

I Swear, This Isn’t Actually About Hair

“It’s just hair,” she whispers to herself on repeat. “It’s just hair,” her voice shakes with every falling strand onto her bathroom floor, dusting past her shoulders, dull scissors in one hand and the other white-knuckled grasping the counter. She’s trying to maintain her composure. She is healthy, she has people who love her, she does not need to cry over something as trivial as the length of her hair. The people she loves will still love her the same, she can still do good for the world, she can still be kind and fun and God-loving and she can still be exactly the same person she was ten minutes ago, just without a waterfall of curls that cascade down her back and over her face. She should not care so much about something so small, but there are annoying, pressing thoughts tangling around her rational mind. What else will she have to hide behind? What else will make her pretty? What else will be her security blanket?


That was dramatic.

Anyway.

You never know what you have until it’s gone, right? Someone please go back in time and tell that to me before I had to become the girl cutting off her own hair in her bathroom at midnight.

Long story short, I tried to dye my hair blonde temporarily. It didn’t work out, I went to a salon to have it fixed and the guy completely fried my hair. I mean fried. Dead. A tangled mess on top of my head that I couldn’t run my fingers through without the risk of never getting them back out. There was no coming back from the rat’s nest that my once Rapunzel-esque hair resembled, so I cut it off.

The hair I’d spent over a year growing out; the hair I swore I would never cut short again (actually begged everyone I know to yell at me if I ever even considered it); the hair that had always been my security blanket and the reason I was incredibly insecure circa 2015 because, for some reason, I decided to chop it all off for no good reason whatsoever: gone. Again. Except this time it’s worse because the hair that I have left doesn’t curl the way it used to and it has the texture of something resembling hay because, like I said, it’s completely fried.

Do I sound annoyed? Upset? Like maybe that little dramatic introduction maybe wasn’t dramatized at all and I actually did have (at least) one meltdown over something as trivial as my hair? Yeah, let’s move on.

I felt like my femininity was taken away the second I looked in the mirror to see the damage that had been done. Scratch that, I feel like my femininity has been taken away. I’m feeling it right now, hardcore. In a culture that glorifies being youthful and “sexy” all the time, I simultaneously feel like I’ve unknowingly joined both the Golden Girl’s and Boy Meets World casts with this short curlyish ‘fro thing on top of my head.

And that’s not to say that short hair isn’t pretty. It just isn’t me. It really isn’t me.

Who am I without my long hair that everyone used to rave about? Was my attractiveness ever about me at all, or did my long curls give me some sort of “pretty girl” illusion? I’m not going to lie and tell you that I’m happier now that I have this semi-curly/very fried bowl cut, but I am working on at least calling it a blessing in disguise. I swear, I’m trying. Hear me out.  

I placed far too much of my worth in my appearance; I wanted to be conventionally attractive so I ate less, worked out more, and kept my hair long. It worked. I received more positive attention, my friends started referring to me as “hot” (which, of course, I laughed at even though secretly it made me feel really good considering my previous nicknames tended to revolve around the word “chubby”), and my family would always comment on how great I looked. I was skinny and strong and had long curly locks, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. I’d also be lying if I said I don’t miss it.

But while compliments and feeling good about myself were all nice and wonderful, my purpose is greater than fitting into an image of being someone simply pretty. I never wanted to be somebody with no substance beyond my outward self. I never had a lot of respect for women/men who only focus on their outward appearance (though attention to your outward appearance is great as long as it’s not an unhealthy obsession), but that is the way our culture unfortunately is and like so many of us, I bought into it. I bought into it so much that I let something like a mistake involving my hair make me stay home more often and put on a baseball cap right as I crawled out of bed today because I didn’t even want to have to look at it myself.

Hence, me walking into a beauty supply store this evening to look for hair extensions only to walk out after seeing the price for said hair extensions and crying in the car the whole way home. Most problems generally have at least some sort of solution, even if it isn’t ideal, but this does not. All I can do is wait God-knows-how-long for it to grow out. It’s a good thing I like hats.

So it’s more than a haircut. It should be freedom from my own rigid ideas of beauty and femininity; it should be joy in the fact that I was forced to look inward and figure out what really matters and realize why it is that I care so much. However, disappointingly enough, it’s feeling a lot less philosophical in practice.

Although there were a couple times when I thought, “I look like Eleven from Stranger Things,” and that made me feel a little better for a while, what’s really been going through my mind most of the time is generally something along the lines of “I look ridiculous,” “My hair was my one redeeming quality,” “My boyfriend is coming back from winter break in 18 days and I don’t know how to magically get more hair by then because I don’t want anyone, let alone him, to see me like this,” and “My days of being impulsive when it comes to my appearance are over.” (That last one is actually a positive. It’s about time I learned my lesson.)

Did you want inspirational B.S. or honesty? Because if I’m being totally unabashedly honest, I feel like garbage and it’s constantly on my mind and I wish my brain would shut up about this hair thing already, but it’s still bugging me.

However, and here is where I (finally) get to the point of this whole post, I will at some point let the lesson of this situation sink in. Sometimes you need time. I don’t know if that’s always the right thing to do, but if it helps you to not dwell on things in the long run, take a little time to wallow. Not too much; just enough to let the lesson resonate when you are ready for it. Make the best of any situation of course and don’t sweat the small stuff, but at the end of the day nothing is as black and white as it seems. Emotions are a thing and sometimes you need to feel them in order to let a lesson really hit you.

To an outsider, I probably seem like a silly girl with nothing better to do than to think about her hair. Which is fair. You, Mr. Outsider, sound like you have not experienced self loathing. Go you; that’s great. However to me, I see my sense of comfort in myself being taken away and I’m figuring out how to not let it feel so dramatic.

I swear, I’m overall a pretty calm person, just not about this one thing. We all have something that sets us off, and this is my thing. You’re welcome for that useless knowledge about my life. 

Here’s what I know I should (and swear I will) inevitably learn:

  • Don’t be impulsive. That whole “patience is a virtue” concept is actually really important. Also, do your research. (“Whoever is patient has great understanding…” Proverbs 14:29)
  • Your worth cannot be placed in trivial things like hair or makeup or perfecting your body. You can enjoy these things, but they are not what make you who you are. You are you for a reason and you were made by God as you are, so chill out. Take a breather. You’re fine. There are more important things going on. (“Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last; but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised.” Proverbs 31:30)
  • You can’t let other people dictate how you feel.
    1. This means: stop comparing. Yes the woman in the aisle next to you at the grocery store is pretty and yes she has beautiful hair or she has perfect skin or a not-crooked smile, but she isn’t you. She will never have all the qualities that make up who you are. Jealousy isn’t healthy. Or necessary. (“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works…” Psalm 139:14)
    2. This also means: stop being so afraid of what other people are going to think of you. There are few times when this should be a genuine concern, like if you are not being a good influence on others or if you’re actively being a harmful representer of God. But when you run into that one guy you liked in middle school that didn’t like you back while you’re wearing sweatpants and no makeup, or when your too-blunt friend says that you need to lose a few pounds…brush those things off. Why would you let anyone else’s opinions (or assumed opinions) change your own? Why would you allow anyone to make you believe that you aren’t good enough? Especially when the same creator of the universe, the creator of your favorite flowers and every single beautiful thing on the earth, of all the people who care about you, also created you. (“Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God.” 2 Corinthians 3:5)
  • Move on, roll with the punches, learn your lesson, and get over yourself. (Too harsh? Whoops.) It’s not as big of a deal as you’re making it seem. You don’t need to take yourself so seriously. Life is full of goodness and joy and it’s not worth being upset long-term because that kind of attitude does nothing but cause yourself and those around you harm. (May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13)

So, hopefully, I’ve made my point and this doesn’t come across as me crying to my blogging friends about my dumb hair woes. It’s not about me; it’s about self-awareness and realizing what really matters and, at the end of the day, the things we worry about usually aren’t worth worrying about. “Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill,” as they say (no I don’t know who “they” are; please don’t ask me). At the end of the day, there are things greater than you going on in the world and whether it’s getting upset over someone cutting you off in traffic or worrying about failing a test or, God forbid, you have to cut off all your hair, feel whatever it is you need to feel for a minute and move on. Learn from it, take whatever you are supposed to take from it, talk to God about it, whatever you need to do, but don’t dwell on things that don’t really matter in the long run.

Thankful.

In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

As a cool breeze turns into cold air and golden leaves fall from their branches (or so I assume, considering I live in South Florida), Thanksgiving is the last real day of fall.

Of course not officially, but the day after Thanksgiving is the standard Christmas tree shopping day. It’s when we brave the Black Friday insanity and attempt to buy as many Christmas gifts as possible. It’s when we start blasting Michael Bublé’s festive hits, when we take down the fall wreath on our front door and replace it with string lights in the trees and an inflatable Santa on the lawn, when we replace all normal clothing for sweaters with light-up reindeer and elves on them, when we forget about the existence of apple cider and move on to hot cocoa.

Thanksgiving is really the last hurrah for those of us who can’t get enough of fall and it becomes socially acceptable for the rest of the world to jump head-first into their collectively insane Christmas mode. Though I’m not quite ready to say goodbye to this season (maybe I just didn’t drink enough Pumpkin Spice Lattes) I am waiting with bated breath for some colder weather to kick in so I can break out my beloved penguin sweater and actually remember what it feels like to shiver for a reason other than accidentally putting the AC on too high.

I love Thanksgiving, despite it’s obvious historical flaws, because it reminds everyone to take a step back and remember what you have instead of what you lack. It says, “shut up, be grateful, and eat a meal with the people you love.” We need that reminder every once in awhile. Actually we could probably use it every day, but that might be asking for too much.

I have compiled a list of some things in my life that I am appreciative of right now, which I hope will inspire you to do the same. You, me, and the rest of the blogging community should take a second to consider what we love about our lives. Think of this moment as all of us sitting together at a giant dinner table. There are dishes upon dishes of delicious steaming food lying front of you, you’re drooling, but I’m the mom of the group who makes everyone wait so we can “go around the table saying what we’re thankful for.” It’ll be fun.


 

Reasons why I’m joyful:

  • My family is close and I like that I like spending time with them. Also, my mom is my best friend. We have a pretty solid Rory/Lorelai thing going for us.
  • I stumbled upon a signed copy of John Green’s newest book in Barnes and Noble a couple weeks ago and I’m still not over it. There was a lot of squealing. I nearly knocked over a whole display with all my jumping.
  • In fact, I’m just grateful for Barnes and Noble, for all bookstores, for libraries, for books in general.
  • For the first time in my life I have a healthy social life, which sounds kind of sad, but I’m really happy that everything turned out the way it did because I appreciate my friends in a way I never could if making friends had always been an easy feat for me. I am happy that I don’t put myself into a box labeled “quiet” anymore, and as a result I have been able to discover that I am a lot more outspoken than I ever realized, which lead to realizing a whole lot more about myself like how independent I am and that I am capable of making my goals a reality.
  • My sister is making broccoli and cheese casserole for tonight, which is pretty much what I look forward to all year long. When the plumbing in our house stopped working and my mom said that we weren’t going to be able to cook this year, my sister and brother-in-law swept in like knights in shining armor to make us all dinner. If you’ve ever had broccoli and cheese casserole, you know how much of a blessing my sister is for saving the day.
  • My cat meows really loudly for me whenever I leave her. I mean the poor thing full-on panics, but hey I have a cat that is super attached to me and actually cares about my existence. Not many cat owners can say that. Also sometimes she likes to throw her arms around me like she’s giving me a hug. She is responsible for turning me into the crazy cat lady I am now.
  • I live by the beach, which is my perpetual happy place. I live near a lot of nature preserves and gardens and I am in constant amazement at how beautiful the place I have been lucky enough to grow up in is. I want to explore the rest of the world of course, but I can’t imagine a better place to call home, and I don’t really want to.
  • There is practically an endless supply of music to be discovered and nothing beats finding a song or a band that makes you really feel something. I discovered this band the other night called Hollow Coves and I listened to their song Coastline on repeat until I fell asleep. It made me cry a couple times because I instantly felt so connected to the song that I wanted to curl up and live in it forever. I love that people can create beautiful things that make us feel so strongly, whether that be in art or music or writing or whatever it is that they thought to make. Humans are pretty cool. We’re capable of some wonderful things.
  • Disney World exists. That’s really all I need to say about that. 
  • I mentioned this a couple posts back, but the creator of the entire freaking universe and everything in it is always readily available to have a conversation with you. He thinks about you. He came up with the idea of you and thought that the world needed one of you in it. I can barely wrap my head around it, but it’s amazing.

 


Of course there are countless more reasons to be grateful, but we don’t have all day. There’s turkey to eat and a parade to watch and people we love waiting to spend time with us, but these are a few things that make me happy. There’s always something to be appreciative of, despite whatever difficult situation you may possibly be in at the moment. There is beauty in life, in the everyday routine, in everything He has made.



What are some things you’re thankful for right now? It can be anything from “I’m currently drinking coffee out of my favorite mug” to “I finally paid off my car.” If it brings you joy, it’s important.