Growing

Spring is in the air and on the calendar. My favorite garden in the city reopened two weeks ago, the temperature has significantly risen, and the trees outside my apartment window are in full bloom.

Just in case anyone in the state missed the season change memo, Mother Nature sent Oklahoma a not so gentle reminder earlier this week. I spent a couple of hours in a tornado shelter at the mall on Wednesday night, where with a drained cell phone battery I was left to receive my information from high school mall workers. For a good thirty minutes last night, I was under the false impression that downtown was on fire, Target burned down, and a that a good portion of Tulsa had been swept away by a tornado. I am learning that Oklahoma Spring weather brings out an unflattering, stressed-out and apparently gullible side of me (for the record downtown is still standing. Target, too).  Yes Oklahoma, we know it is Spring. Thank you for the unsolicited reminder.

Minus the sporadic weather, I'm rather fond of this time of year. I love the patches of color that begin to appear in the trees and on the ground. I love the opening of the farmer's market. I love the growth, the change, and the "newness" appearing every way I turn.

This year, thanks to the generosity of several people in my life, I had the pleasure of having a bit of spring indoors over the past couple of months. A coworker and a dear friend both gave me an amaryllis bulb for Christmas. It was fascinating to watch them grow from a round brown bulb to a towering stalk with  brilliant red blooms.

This year, though the first time to grow an amaryllis, was not the first time I have received an amaryllis bulb. Two Christmases ago, I am ashamed to say I received a bulb that I never gave a chance to get even close to any type of growth.

It was the last day of work before Christmas, and the holiday hustle and bustle (I think that is just a cute way to say stress) had begun. After our office holiday party, I was quickly gathering up my belongings to begin a two week hiatus from work. I threw my belongings and gifts from coworkers (including an amaryllis bulb) into my trunk. Somewhere on the drive home, the vase containing the bulb and instructions for growth rolled to a dark corner of my car's trunk.

After returning home after Christmas, while unpacking my suitcase, I caught a glimpse of the vase. I pulled it out and looked at it. I quickly decided that 1. It probably wouldn't grow in my apartment 2. I didn't have time to figure it out 3. It probably wouldn't be worth the trouble. I threw it back in my trunk, and it regrettably made it into the trash a few months later during a deep car cleanse (aka trash emptying) at the car wash. 

If I could have looked into the future and seen how beautiful the transformation of the bulbs would be when planted, I wouldn't have been so quick to toss it away. If I had at least taken it out of my trunk, it might have had a chance to reach it's potential. If I had given it even a little bit of water each day, I could have helped it grow into something beautiful.

I am so thankful that the Lord and the people in my life don't treat me like I treated that bulb.

On my own, I am nothing much more than a dirty brown bulb, a human, inclined to sin and inclined to mess up. What if the Lord looked at me and saw me and treated me for what I am alone. 1. She probably won't grow to be much. Look at her now. 2. I have the universe to deal with. I don't have time. 3. She won't be worth the trouble. I'll just leave her in the dark. What if all those who have taken the time to invest in my life had chosen not to. 1. My time would be better spent investing in someone else. I don't think she has much potential. 2. I am really busy. I don't have time to get together with her. I don't even have time to pray for her. 3. Even if I did invest in her, it probably wouldn't make much of a difference.

Thank goodness the Lord is more lavish with his grace than I was with water for that forsaken bulb in my trunk. He looks at us through the lens of the sacrifice Christ made to atone for our sins. Where we see a mess and where we see failures, He sees what He has created us to be. He sees his beloved sons and daughters. He sees something beautiful.

I am so thankful that, during the times I have not seen the potential in myself and have been discouraged that I am not yet the woman I want to be, the Lord and the people he has placed in my life saw what I didn't see and took the time to water me with life giving words, time, prayer, and encouragement.

I love that the Lord has not called us to live our lives alone. I know I wouldn't be very good at facing the world all by myself.  In fact, I believe we are called to be the hands and feet of Christ by encouraging one another, praying, discipling, and building each other up in what God has created us to be and accomplish. We are called to love and provide nourishment for those the Lord has placed in our paths.

One of my favorite verses is Hebrews 10:24-25 "And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds,  not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching."

Not only has Christ called us to encourage and support eachother, he has called us to do it more and more each day.

I know I wouldn't be who I am without all of the people who have taken the time to teach me, rebuke me, pray for me, encourage me, cry with me, and laugh with me. Thank you to each of you for taking the time to pour your own life water into me, a woman who makes mistakes, says things I shouldn't and may not always meet your expectations. Thanks for letting God use you to help transform my life and mind to be more like Him each day. Without you, I could still be in the dark.  Without you, I wouldn't have the knowledge or confidence to give back what you have given me to the people God has placed in my life to water.

I am still growing. We all are and always will be. That is part of the beauty of it all. The Lord sees the whole picture even when the growth has just begun. He loves us right now in a way that he sees the beautiful thing we are becoming instead of witholding his love until our growth is completed. In calling us to love like He does, He is calling us to see those around us in that same way - as someone beautiful who has the potential to bring glory to the Creator through a life lived for Him.

Keep watering. Keep loving. He promises the end result will be beautiful.

Butterfly Kisses

One afternoon after Christmas, I was sitting on my bed with my 4 year old niece, Audrey.

I would have been fine shutting my eyes and taking a nap, but Audrey was insistent we play a game. The first "game" was called birthday. She instructed me on the rules. One of us was supposed to yell, "It's your birthday!" to the other and then hand the other a series of pretend gifts and, as the other opened the gift, tell them what it was they were opening. Once the first person's birthday was over, the roles reversed, and the game continued. During this game, for my "birthday", I received a hippopotamus, a car, a house, and a stuffed bear. That little girl sets the gift giving bar very high.

After we ran out of energy from unwrapping our very large gifts and giving enthused reactions, Audrey said it was time for a new game. This one was a bit simpler. It was called "sleeping beauty." We were both supposed to be princesses. However, one had fallen into a deep sleep and couldn't be woken (I think Disney may own the rights to this one) except by a kiss on the cheek from another princess (that part may be a little different). Once the princess was woken from her deep sleep, the other princess fell into dreamland, and the game continued. I think you have it figured out.

After about fifteen minutes of this game, I needed a break. Mostly because I didn't want to lay my head down on the pillow again and have to "wake up" before my head rested on the pillow for at least an hour.

Looking to change the subject, I asked Audrey if she had heard of butterfly kisses before. She giggled at the name and told me no. She wanted to learn. She giggled even more when I quickly blinked my eyelashes next to her cheek. Audrey gave me a butterfly kiss and wanted many more herself, giggling more each time.

She looked at me and, in a sweet little voice through a smile, said, "Aunt Kelly, where did you learn about the butterfly kisses?"

I paused and thought. I honestly could not pinpoint the moment. The 1996 Bob Carlisle song was the only specific thing that came to mind. I told her I didn't know. That didn't seem to bother her too much, though. She replied, "I like butterfly kisses".

We continued our game of "sleeping beauty",  but this time exchanged the magic smooches for fluttering eyelashes and lots of giggles.

When I told Audrey I had to go back home to Tulsa the next day, she frowned and said, "But how can I give you butterfly kisses if you go home?" I choked back my tears and told her butterfly kisses were good over face time too. The smile came back to her face.

Today marks one month until February 14, Valentine's Day, a day celebrating love itself. Where is it, though, that we learn to love?

When I think back through my life, I have been shown love in so many ways by so many people and, in turn, have been blessed with so many people to give back the love I have been given.

Maybe part of it starts the moment we are born. I am not a mother, but I am told there is nothing like the new love you feel when you first hold your baby in your arms. From the moment we are first introduced to love, I believe it continues to be all around us. We just have to look for it.

Love can be expressed in so many different ways- a hug, a kiss, a conversation, a note, a laugh, time spent, a whispered prayer, a selfless gesture to a stranger, a smile, or a helping hand to name a few. I believe love can be shown to people we hold the closest and also to those we have never met.

The truth is, as believers, we have someone who loved us before time began. Someone who made the ultimate sacrifice so that we could live. Romans 5:8 says, "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." 

I can't even fathom this kind of love. The Creator of the universe chose you and me, even in our darkest places. He has loved us to life in Him if we will accept the love he lavishes on us through the free gift of salvation.

As we walk through our lives, no matter how long or how short they may be, we have an example to follow. We can learn to love even in the hardest of circumstances or with the most seemingly difficult people by turning to Christ and learning how to love and gaining strength to love through Him.

1 John 4:19 says, "We love because he first loved us."

As daughters and sons of Christ we are called to share His love throughout the world in response to the selfless love he has and continues to show us. That kind of gift and that kind of love are meant to be shared. It's one of those things that is just too good to keep to yourself.

There is nothing like the joy the Lord brings when we share his love with others. The joy the Lord brings when we are obedient to his command to love one another is so sweet.

A part of my small group study last week focused on the love of Christ. It mentioned Jude 1:21 which says, "Keep yourselves in the love of God, expecting the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ." In the study, Beth writes, "That means practicing the mindset of being profusely loved by God....Actively engaging in his unending, extravagant, no-stings-attached affection for you is not narcissism. It's necessity. It can mean our survival when loving the loveless."
 
Wherever you may be this very day and whoever you are with, I hope you know you are loved. Because you are. Very much. Profusely. We all are. You are loved by the King. The Creator who loved us first and gave his life so we, too, could share this love shown to us with each step we take.

How do we love? By seeking to selflessly share the love of Christ and the truth of the gospel through our words and actions with those placed in our path each day. Where do we learn to love? From the One who first loved us. 

Grace for the New Year

A new year has come. The old year has gone. A calendar page has turned. And black eyed pea sales are down from last month (or so I assume...I have eaten exactly one black eyed pea in my lifetime so I am not an expert).

After Taylor Swift finished "Shaking it Off" in Times Square, the toasts, the smooches, and the confetti, the ball dropped, and the year listed at the end of the date read a number none of had lived before. 2015.

A short 9 days ago, the slate was wiped clean as billions cheered, "Happy New Year!" A phrase holding hope and promise for so many. A chance to start over. A chance to get it right this time.

I have been fickle throughout my lifetime in the making and completion of New Year's resolutions. Last year, I completed 1 out of 5 of my resolutions, and I honestly couldn't tell you what the other 4 were verbatim. However due to the one completed goal, I entered 2015 credit card debt free (thanks to good ole Dave Ramsey, prayer and diligence), so I feel ok with letting the other goals slip aside.

This year, I, once again, made several goals including reading more books (one down so far), using more postage stamps, and enrolling in some cake decorating classes to name a few. Though I hope to and plan on completing these goals in the next calendar year, these types of goals don't exactly weigh on my soul. Maybe the cake decorating one would if I was Martha Stewart, but I'm not. If something happens, and I can't make it, I think I will still be able to sleep at night. Maybe that is the reason I chose them.

If I'm being honest, New Year's resolutions stress me out. Not the kind I listed but ones more on the serious side. More precisely, the fears of failure and inadequacy stress me out. Too often, when the new year rolls around, I find myself dwelling on all the things I didn't do, all the areas in which I have fallen short. You dropped off on scripture memory a few months early. You slipped an said and thought things about people you shouldn't have. You were too selfish with your time. What toned stomach? You probably could have spent a little more time in prayer. You are so far from who you said you wanted to become.

When given a goal, I want to complete it. Perfectly. You say I have to take a test? I want to know all of the material before I sit down so I can answer each question correctly. If someone gives me instructions, I won't conveniently skip over step 3. In most instances, I will most likely double check to see if my t's are crossed and my i's are dotted.

This thought process seems to not be isolated to New Year's Eve. Too often, I find myself tying my worth in so many areas of my life - i.e. being a friend, a daughter, a girlfriend, an aunt, a small group leader, a mentor - to doing. The enemy tells me if I don't do enough, call enough, excel enough, that I am not enough. You are loved in your successes, but are you sure your failures don't make them value you less? You let them down. You failed. They noticed. They won't forget. The enemy is a vicious chatterbox.

Though a merit based life seems to fit in a box of humanness and my desire for control, the Lord gently reminds me that this is not the life he has called me to.

It is far too easy to look at all we are not and the things we seemed to have missed in the scuffle of the previous year. Though my yearly goals change, some underlying hopes and dreams remain the same. I truly hope to grow in my relationship with the Lord each year and become more of the woman He has made me to be.  I hope to make more of an impact for Him and learn to show His love a little better. Slip ups and struggles don't mean failure in the Lord's eyes. The enemy battles to tell me differently. 

When the new year comes, I feel pressure to become the perfect idea of a Christian woman I have in my head. Pressure to never miss a quiet time, spend more time praying than any other activity, and to never have a negative thought. I find myself in fear that I will disappoint those around me and even more so disappoint the Lord.

A dear friend introduced me to a gospel centered daily devotional to use in the upcoming year. As always, the Lord knows just what I need to see and hear. I am so thankful he uses people in my life to point me back toward Him when I look away.

Nearly every day since I started these daily devotionals, a common theme...in this book, in conversations, and in scripture keeps popping out at me. Grace.

On New Year's Eve, the devotional I read talked about the end of the year marking a time when we are expected to make a goal that will in one epic moment of decisiveness and resolve, change our life (talk about timing).

This devotional reminded me that change in character to be more like Christ isn't reliant on one dramatic moment or resolution...how commitment is important and essential, but the change and transformation itself is made up of more mundane little moments. The little moments in our days, weeks, months, and years are what comprise the changes that the Lord works within us. Little moments of grace. Constant offerings and reminders of the price Christ paid and the gift he gave us of neverending grace in salvation. Making the choice in the moments of our days to choose prayer over worry and thankfulness and praise over discontentment.

Choosing to be transformed by Christ doesn't mean never messing up. I think it is recognizing that we will mess up and being reminded that we need the grace God gives us with each breath we take to change and grow.

"Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given." John 1:16

Choosing to live for Christ isn't a call to perfectionism, it's a call to waking up each day and choosing Christ, choosing to seek him in both the mundane moments and the monumental ones. It's recognizing that slip ups aren't moments where we lose God's favor, but moments where we can be reminded of his grace and our need for him as he lovingly draws us back to Him.

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." 2 Corinthians 12:9

This year I pray the Lord will continually tune my heart sing His grace. I pray He will give me peace and strength to choose Him in the little moments and daily be growing to become not a perfect woman, but one who's heart's desire is to follow Him and share his love with others. I pray that I can find rest and trust in that fact that the Lord will never stop loving and working on me. He will be transforming my heart to be more like His each day I seek Him.

Lord, please teach me to block out the lies of the enemy that tell me to strive for perfection and dwell on failures. Teach me to rest in your grace and the promise that your sacrifice is what covers all of my shortcomings. Remind me that I need your grace and nothing else. Let the voice of your grace sing out above all other voices. Let this be a year full of moments where I see your face and choose to follow your voice. Amen. 

"Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you. 
 My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever."
Psalm 73:25-26

bright copper kettles & warm woolen mittens

A few months back, my mom came to visit for a weekend in Tulsa. On our long list of things to do, we decided we were going to sew a maxi skirt. My mom is a very talented seamstress and brought along her sewing machine so she could teach me.

Earlier that week, I spotted a blogger on pinterest who claimed she had an "easy diy maxi skirt pattern that anyone could complete." I immediately thought, that since I saw it on pinterest, I could do it. My mom suggested we get a pattern at the fabric store, however, I remained stubborn and insisted that following the pinterest blog would go off without a hitch. Pinterest said I could be an insta-seamstress. I believed it.

After we purchased the fabric and began to look at the instructions, we quickly realized the blogger's descriptions were very vague and not nearly wordy enough. 
 
My mom and I decided that it was good that neither of us are inclined to use foul language or we would have had a reenactment of A Christmas Story's Mr, Parker's verbal and physical fight with a hot water heater right there in my living room. Except ours would have involved sewing pins, scissors and a measuring tape. The end result wouldn't have been pretty.

Long story short, I should have heeded my mom's advice and purchased a pattern. The skirt was finished that day, but with much more time and frustration than necessary.

Beware of the pinterest DIY blog.

In Pride and Prejudice, when describing the attributes of an accomplished woman, Ms. Bingly states, "no [woman] can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.  A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."

It seems to me the modern description would add to the quote above by asserting that a woman must have perfect hair, a perfect body, the ability to form anything out of burlap, sew, paint, run 6.5 miles a day, make meals that not only taste good but look mouthwatering in three shades of instagram filters, stay up to date in the current season's fashions, keep a perfectly decorated home that rivals any pin on the home section of pinterest, never get angry, and be a quintessential combination of Martha Stewart and Jillian Michaels in order to be a woman of worth.

In the world we live in, comparison tells us we aren't enough. "She" is better than I am. I could never measure up to the woman she is. Comparison says we are a failure if we can't do it all. Comparison sees a beautiful, sweet woman as a threat instead of as a sister in Christ to encourage. Comparison sees the good traits in another and turns a blind eye to the unique traits God has given us. Comparison says they have it all and we somehow missed out.  

no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.  A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved - See more at: http://modernmrsdarcy.com/the-accomplished-woman/#sthash.6EmVLvmX.dpuf

no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.  A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved - See more at: http://modernmrsdarcy.com/the-accomplished-woman/#sthash.6EmVLvmX.dpuf

no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.  A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved - See more at: http://modernmrsdarcy.com/the-accomplished-woman/#sthash.6EmVLvmX.dpuf

no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.  A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved - See more at: http://modernmrsdarcy.com/the-accomplished-woman/#sthash.6EmVLvmX.dpuf

Am I the only one fighting this battle?

I ran across an image in my internet scouring the other day that said this - "Whatever is good for the soul. Do that."

Good for the soul.

I can think of a few things that come to mind that I know immediately are good for my soul. Volcano scented candles, worn book pages, hand written mail, fresh flowers, sharing stories, laughter, quality time with people I love, mixing dough,  and piping frosting to name a few. You probably have your own list too. Just think what you would insert into Julie Andrew's rendition of "My Favorite Things" (name that movie). Candles and conversation don't flow nearly as well as bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, so I'll keep my list in text form and leave the singing to Ms. Andrews.

However, I can also think of several things that are not good for my soul. For example, sewing with no pattern, playing any aggressive sport, mathematical problems, marathon running, body pumping (is that what they call it?), up-do's, drawing anything other than a flower, and public speaking to name a few.

What is good for your soul, probably isn't an exact replica of what is good for mine. We need to stop telling ourselves that this is a negative.

Comparison is a nasty companion. Too often we forget that comparison comes from the enemy, not from our Creator. The enemy tries to feed us lies about what a woman should be, whether that is through social media feeds, the media, or even through looking at the lives of other women around us. If we let the enemy and comparison define what it means to be a woman of worth, we will be left feeling defeated, unworthy and subpar. Our value and worth should come from the source of our being, the Creator of the Universe. Turns out, He has more than a few things to say about what true worth looks like.

Psalm 139:14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. 

Psalm 31:30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

1 Peter 3:3-4 Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.

This is a dialogue I have had with several of my girlfriends over the past few months. It seems the enemy has found a note that strikes a chord with more than one of us. We are all a part of the body of Christ and have the opportunity to encourage and support eachother in our differences. As believers, we are all working together for the glory of God. All of our differences give us the opportunity to make a bigger impact all together. The enemy doesn't want us to see that. He wants our unique traits to create division and envy, not unity.

Whatever is good for the soul. Do that. 

Perhaps celebrating and encouraging the good that comes from the souls around us is the remedy we have been looking for. I love the part of Hebrews 10:24-25 that talks about encouragement.

God made each of us intentionally...perfectly. Unlike the blogger I chose to blindly follow from pinterest, God doesn't make any mistakes. The enemy says you are not enough. God says you are wonderfully made. The enemy says you have to be everything. God says we don't have to be everything because He is our everything.

He has a plan and purpose for each person He created. He created me exactly the way he wanted to...unique likes, dislikes, quirks, looks, personality, and passions, all carefully crafted so I can live out the plan God created for me. You, too. 

It's for the birds.

Apartment living has its perks as I have realized over the past couple of years. A friendly eighty year old man comes to unclog my garbage disposal when I drop in too many eggs and doesn't scold me despite his visit for a similar problem a few weeks before. I don't have a lawn to mow. Friends in the same complex are a short walk away. I am only 30 second walk away from a pool, and I have "free" access to a gym that I feel like I can tell myself I "go to" if I drop in a couple of times a month.

However, my previous two residences were rental houses, and there is one thing that I can't deny I miss. My apartment has a sizable patio, but it in no way can compare to having a yard. Yes, I love my porch bench and could sit there for hours, but a concrete slab doesn't stand a chance against a bed of grass flowers and trees. After I first moved into my apartment a couple of years ago, I purchased a slew of bulbs, potting soil, and clay pots to try to create my own "garden" on my concrete slab. However, before I opened the packages, I realized that my porch faced in a direction that received no direct sunlight. The tags on the plants I had chosen of course implied that my gardening attempts would fail without that ingredient. Discouraged, I took everything back to the store and put the idea on the back burner.

A couple of months ago, after I had a bad day, Jeff came over and told me he had something for me in his trunk. I waited upstairs and he brought up a beautiful fern for my porch, only one of the many many thoughtful things he has done for me that I don't deserve. He helped me hang it up, and my porch garden came back to light. He has since added sweet basil and citronella, which I am happy to say, unlike the bulbs I previously selected, love the shade my porch has to offer.

The next few days I sat outside on my bench eating breakfast and noticed that several house finches had taken a liking to the fern too. I didn't think much about it until I saw some twigs sticking out of the side of the plant when I went to water. Apparently, the house finches not only liked the fern, but decided to take up residence.

As soon as I realized there was a small nest nestled in my fern, I took every measure to learn all I could about house finches. Meaning, I googled. I love a google search. I learned what the male and females looked like, confirming that my flying house guests were indeed house finches. I learned about their nesting habits, incubation time of the eggs, and more than you probably care to hear. I'll stop.

The nest started with 3 eggs, and then the number grew to 5 overnight. A few days later, two eggs had gone missing. One more day and one of the remaining eggs was on the ground of my porch, and one had turned dark brown. This left one light blue, and from what I could gather, healthy egg.

Every morning, I pulled a kitchen chair out to the patio, watered the side of the fern opposite of the nest and checked for any change in the nest. A few days before I left for my vacation, when attempting to water, I saw something different. Instead of an egg, there was a pink little body covered in white fuzz. I was thrilled. I won't try to hide my excitement about the baby bird. I am writing a whole blog about it, so if you are judging me, it already happened a few paragraphs ago. I can take it.

A friend was sweet enough to water my fern for me for the week I was on vacation each day, even with my persistent instructions and warnings to not drown the baby bird in exchange for a bottle of vanilla from Mexico.

When I came home, the baby was still there to my surprise but had much more resemblance to it's parents. I continued to water on my patio each morning, surprised that the bird was still in the nest after a few weeks after hatching.

So continued my morning routine. Until Tuesday. Things got interesting. After I had poured half of the water into the plant, I heard a quiet chirp and the baby bird shot out of the nest and started flapping it's wings. It made a quick....descent to the ground, where it sat very still. Too still I thought.

Panic ensued. I was that kid. The mean one on the playground who pushes the toddler over when they are learning to walk (I hope no one really does that. I think I saw it in a movie once). Flying....walking...maybe this was a little different but at the moment it didn't feel like it. The momma bird flew to the nest looked in to see nothing and looked around before flying away. Great, now not only had I sent the baby to the ground away from its home, but also would be the cause of mother/child abandonment issues.

I walked downstairs and started climbing behind the bushes where the bird was sitting in the corner not moving. My next door neighbor walked up and asked me what I was doing (for good reason. It was 7:30 am and I was in the bushes in a dress) to which I responded with a panic filled explanation of what happened. She reminded me about the cats that wander around our building and recommended I go get some gloves to try to bring the baby home to it's nest on the 2nd floor.

I sent a text to my coworkers to let them know I would be late to work because I was trying to rescue a baby bird. One replied something about my "kind heart". She didn't know I was the one who had created the need for rescue in the first place. I didn't correct her.

After a quick trip upstairs and back down, I was sneaking around behind the bushes in a summer maxi dress, black fleece winter gloves and carrying a shoebox. More residents pulling out of the complex to go to work slowed down to look than I care to mention.

When I got close to the baby, to my surprise, it flew up and away. My rescue attempt was in vain. Thankfully. Nature took its course, the baby's instincts kicked in, and I was reminded once again that I can't control everything.

For a few weeks, I shared a small portion of my living space. I watched a finch build a nest and lay eggs and saw a baby bird the day after it was born. After weeks of waiting, I saw the baby bird fly away, in a more climactic ending than I would care to repeat, but still memorable and beautiful. 

This morning, the nest was empty and the momma bird was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she will be back to lay more eggs soon. Maybe not. Regardless, I think I need to invest in a long nosed watering can or a lengthening chain to reduce the need for the kitchen chair.

Unlike Tuesday, I got to work on time today. My shoebox and winter gloves are back where they belong. In the closet.

Maybe my neighbors will write off the site they saw as morning entertainment and never mention it, but if they do bring up my strange attire and mannerisms, I know what I will say. "It was for the birds."

High Tea at Sea.

There are some things in life, it seems, that receive a lot of "hype". Miley Cyrus, Justin Bieber, fried foods at the fair, acrylic nails (the after effects aren't worth it, ladies...after 5 years my nails have finally recovered), self imposed dietary restrictions, coffee with 5 preceding adjectives (decaf nonfat light soy vanilla latte anyone?), and reality television to name a few.

For the past few years, as May rolled around, large groups of my friends boarded cruise ships together. Each time, they came back raving about the vacation and rearing to plan a new one for the next year.

My previous opinion of cruise ships was formed from a 20/20 special I watched several years ago. In the hour span of television, ABC successfully convinced me that cruise ships were indeed cesspools and that there was a 90% chance that if I went on one, my life would turn into a television special titled, Unsolved Mysteries: Cruise Edition, after I was drugged, dragged, or dropped  in the bottom of the cruise ship or on the shores of what would be sold to me as "paradise". Dramatic? Perhaps. Persuasive? Absolutely.

I stopped watching 20/20...for obvious reasons. Turns out basing your life decisions off of the worst possible scenarios that happen to less that 1 percent of the population is no way to live. Unless you enjoy breathing in paper bags and anxiety attacks.

After the initial shock of televised cruise nightmares wore off, I booked a cruise last May on the Carnival Triumph. If you watched the news between January and May of last year, that name may ring a bell. Long story short, the ship caught on fire, passengers were stranded, and my vacation was cancelled. My friends and I booked a beach house in Gulf Shores instead that same week, and I put "cruising" where I thought it belonged, on the "hype" list.

Turns out I am fickle in my opinions and easily persuaded (especially when offered a discount for my previous year's inconvenience) and booked a cruise for last week on that same ship with one of my closest friends.

I returned on Saturday, recant my "hype" statement, and am ready to write 20/20 a letter asking them to cease playing reruns of their cruise special.

I traveled to a country I had never visited, spent an unhealthy (but heavenly) number of hours in the sun, learned to Salsa dance, learned about the Mayan culture, swam in the clearest water I have ever seen, took a cooking class, danced in the dining room, ate more food than I care to mention, watched a hairy chest competition that gave MTV spring break a run for their money, and spent hours watching the waves (did you know that ocean sparkles?!).

Though the hairy chest competition and salsa dancing were noteworthy, that's not what I want to talk about.

 On the second day of the cruise, my friend and I took a look at the itinerary for the day at sea to
schedule breaks from basking in the sun (turns out spf 30 can't hold out for long against the sun's rays). 3 pm marked "tea time" in the main dining room. We jumped on the chance to eat dessert in the middle of the afternoon, attempted to look presentable after swimming in saltwater, and the waiter led us to a table. We were seated next to two women in their late 70's named Joann Lily and Shirley Freeman.

We quickly learned that Joann and Shirley were not only seasoned cruise goers but also seasoned vacationers in general. Not only had they been on 10 plus cruises, but also made roadtrips a priority. Crystal Bridges in Arkansas was next on their list.

As we all filled our teacups from our individual teapots, we exchanged stories about our families and lives in general. Both Shirley and Joann had been widowed for several years. From what I understood, Joann had been widowed twice. When she talked about her late husband, her eyes lit up. She said,"He was an angel sent down to me as a little piece of heaven. I could talk all day about him."

Joann and I exchanged stories about meeting strangers on vacation and how interesting it is to hear others' stories. Joann said "When you are friendly, you are sure to make friends wherever you go."

Amen to that. On the cruise ship last week, it fascinated me that more than 3,000 people were sharing the same space. All with different stories, and many from different parts of the world. I met people who had traveled to Europe countless times, couples who made it a point to cruise one week out of the month, and a couple who was on their honeymoon. I met a grandfather that used the phrase "as cute as a button" to describe his granddaughter.  I even met a 93 year old woman named Bernice at brunch who informed me of the benefits of eating ice cream. "It melts and goes into all the empty places," she said with a sly grin. "I would be in trouble if it all piled up."

Though each of these groups of people had never crossed paths before, they all had one thing in common. They were sharing experiences, sharing life, and making memories with people they loved.

Do you ever sit and think about what a small speck you are on the earth? While the thought could be intimidating, I don't think it has to be. I think maybe that is the way God intended it to be. When I think about it, it is so exciting that there are so many places to see, so many people to meet, and even better so many stories to hear. Joann and Shirley may have been in their seventies, but they were young at heart. They saw the world in front of them, and they were ready to see it.

After last week in Mexico and my trip to Canada several years ago, I have North America covered, at least enough to check it off the list for now. Perhaps its time to cross the big pond (is that the trendy thing to say these days?) to attend high tea on land.

For now, I'll have to settle for high tea at my friend's apartment. I'll take it. Whether in Tulsa, Oklahoma, on the high sea or thousands of miles across the world, I am so thankful God has placed so many people in my life who I love, people to share adventures with and learn from, people to laugh and cry with, people to travel with, and people to do everyday life with. People God Himself has written in my story to teach me what His love looks like and to walk alongside me as I learn about the world He created.

I raise my tea cup (or should I say my pinky) to many more trips with friends, family and loved ones, new places on the map, new memories, and living life with a young heart no matter the year on the calendar. Thanks to our new friends Joann and Shirley for sharing high tea and letting us be a part of your memories and helping us make new ones of our own.

on kindness, Aldi, and cutting in line.

Tuesday on the way home from work, I remembered that I needed to make a stop to purchase ingredients to make cookies to bring to small group. On my way to my typical stop, Target, something caught my eye. Aldi. Target trumped.

Aldi is one of those places, in my opinion, that you really have to want to go to or you will end up leaving frustrated. I would compare it to the Marshall's of the food world. The discounts are great, but you quickly realize that the organization, selection, and brands you recognize are indeed missing in the 3 aisles the store has to offer, hence the great prices. I openly admit that I love a good bargain though, and paying $1.00 for a carton of strawberries instead of $4.00 is well worth my cereal being labeled "Honey O's" instead of "Cheerios".

I pulled into the parking lot and got out of my car without a second thought. However, the moment I walked into the door, a man tapped me on my shoulder and stopped me frantically.

"I am SO sorry," he said.

I was confused, and my face probably showed it. Either this man had me confused with someone else, or I had missed something. I quickly asked him what he was sorry for. Judging by the panic on his face, it seemed serious. He then informed me that he had cut me off in the parking lot and then apologized several more times. I told the man that I hadn't noticed and assured him it was ok. He then told me that he hates being rude and inconsiderate and assured me he hadn't done it on purpose. I laughed (I should have been the one apologizing for being behind the wheel...I was so spaced out I didn't see someone cut me off) and assured him I wasn't upset and to not think twice about it. He thanked me and went on his way.

At the cash register, with my assortment of strawberries, lettuce, and Hershey's kisses on the conveyor belt, the cashier and I exchanged the typical "how are you today" type conversation. We talked about what a beautiful Spring day it was and how it would be hard to have anything but a good day with the sun shining the way it was. I thought back to Mr. parking lot. I have accidentally cut people off numerous times I am sure, but I can't think of one that I have sought out the driver to apologize. The weather. That must have been it.

As predicted, Aldi didn't have all of the ingredients I needed for my cookies, so I made an additional stop at Target. I wasn't upset about it. I don't think I have ever been upset about going to Target now that I think about it. I picked up the few items I needed and headed to the checkout. The lines were long, the cashiers were few, and the carts were full. The manager caught me looking around to other aisles and offered to check me out at the pizza hut counter so I wouldn't have to wait. I said thank you, and he assured me it was no problem...and then upsold my purchase to include a pina coalda icee. I left target with a smile on my face (icee's do that to you). The store manager must have caught wind of the Spring sunshine too.

Two stoplights away from home, I realized I had forgotten an essential ingredient for my peanut butter cookies. Peanut butter. After rationalizing that I couldn't make the cookies without it, I pulled into the next store I saw. Big Lots. If Aldi is the Marshall's of the food world, then Big Lots is the Ross. And as any bargain shopper knows, Marshalls and TJMaxx trump Ross.

I searched the chaotic, unorganized shelves for at least ten minutes and finally found a jar of peanut butter next to a can of chicken noodle soup and a box of crackers. I don't recommend Big Lots for grocery shopping. Nevertheless, I had my final ingredient and was ready to get home. When I got to the front of the store, I realized that only one lane was open, and the line was ten people deep. Each person's cart was full of all the "treasures" (I use that term lightly) one might find at Big Lots. I resigned to the fact that I would be there a while. The lady in front of me saw my singular jar of peanut butter and insisted I pass her in line. I told her that wasn't necessary, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. The same thing happened with the 9 consecutive customers in front of her in line, and before I knew it, I was at the front with no wait at all.

When I got back into my car to go home and started baking my cookies, I started thinking about all of the people I had encountered at my 3 stops that afternoon. I didn't know any of them. They had no vested interest in my life. We probably will never see each other again. They all had one thing in common though.

They cared enough to share kindness.

The people I encountered yesterday, even for a short while, reminded me that the little things really do make a difference. How many opportunities do I pass up during the day to share kindness that is so freely shared with me? If the number was counted, I am afraid I would be ashamed.

I think, too often, we tell ourselves that the little things don't matter. They won't make that much of a difference. If not that, we set our sites on our goals for the day and dare not turn our heads to those around us. 

The truth is though, the little things make all the difference. Whether that is holding a door, sharing a conversation or a smile, or letting someone pass you in the grocery line, it matters. It's sometimes easy to forget that we don't know what is going on in the lives of those we come into contact with each day.

Last week, I decided to memorize Colossians 3:12. It says, "Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience."

"Clothe yourself with kindness." I have been thinking a lot lately about what that means. I think I got a taste of it shopping yesterday.

A Bible study I was in a few months ago talked about how we "clothe" ourselves intentionally. It is not by accident. Just as we choose what clothes we put on in the morning, we also choose what attitudes and actions we put on and share with those we come into contact with each day. 

Sometimes I just want to go through my day and get everything on MY list done. Sometimes it seems like there are not enough hours to even do that. That verse reminds me, though, that I am called to so much more than that. I am called to share kindness and the love of Christ with those I do and don't know each day. Even when I am tired. Even when I am frustrated. And even when people and situations make it seem impossible to share love the way I should.

Then, I remember, that I am not good on my own. I am sinful and lost without Christ. He is the only good in me. His spirit lives in me and it is my job to let it shine over my human nature. Even when kindness isn't on the tip of my tongue, I can choose to stop and intentionally clothe myself in it.

Though I would like to think it does, kindness does not come solely from sunshine. It is placed in all of us by the Creator. Spring or winter, sunny or cloudy, whether we are walking through Marshall's or Neiman Marcus, our homes or downtown streets, the times we let Him shine through us matter.

A man at Aldi, a manager at Target, and 10 women at Big Lots all showed me kindness when they didn't have to. I wouldn't have thought twice about it if they hadn't. But more than the actions and words they shared, God used their hearts and intentionality to touch mine even just a little bit. Would it have hurt me to stand in line for 20 minutes to buy my peanut butter? No. Did it make a difference that these women let me cut in line?

From my heart, I wholeheartedly say that it did.