If you like, keep reading to see what God has been doing with our adoption as well as what He's been up to at McDonalds...

In this season of resolutions, I'd like to share what has been a love/hate relationship with fitness, a love/love relationship with MPower Fitness, and an inconsequential relationship with my 15 lb swing which I am currently at the top of and don't care because I don't model swimsuits for a living. It's taken almost 40 years to be able to see it all clearly and I'm still learning so much about how my body is a gift.

​I was laughing while going through pictures because I found these two side by side. Side by side exactly. 

An archeologist writes about the empty tomb. He says, “Pilgrims come to touch Golgotha and the tomb because the events that took place here define our faith. Everything we believe flows from this center. Tourists travel away from their center to go and experience other lands — to learn, or to rest, or to be entertained. But a pilgrim, in contrast, travels toward the center. The core of his faith in essence is to touch and be touched by the holiest, most significant place on earth.”

My friend and I recently returned from a Christian conference. We planned it for a year. We made travel plans, arranged babysitters, booked hotel rooms, loaded our trunks with girly supplies for our weekend away, eager to learn from inspiring mentors and each other. 

We drove several hours away, traversed the unfamiliar city, eventually settled in our arena seats, and got out our journals to document our inspiration.

Forty eight hours later, I hadn’t written down one word. The entire weekend, not one thing jumped out at me. I didn’t cry. I didn’t laugh especially hard. I might as well have been anywhere still clinging to my average day. 

​About half way into the second reading, a mom arrived to church, without a dad, but with a slew of children. Her teenager, first in line, leading the way into the sanctuary, stopped and stood still, paralyzed by the scrutiny she felt when the congregation turned to see who was late. 

​I didn’t have anything to say about the election.  I voted for no one.  After it was all said and done, I felt bad for not feeling more but the things that make my world go around continue to send it spinning. 

Whenever one is examining peace, it is usually because it is wearing away.  The internet is downright bare.  This morning I was part of a string of comments that started with a child’s school picture and ended with profanity in all caps. How quickly, these days, our conversations can turn. 

​I was in the fourth grade when the mother of one of my classmates, there to pick her daughter up early, caught me by the elbow on the playground, whisked me aside and hissed into my ear, “You would be nothing without that hair.”

The first time I was considering writing for an audience, I had a divulging dream. While I found my subconscious clever, I did not find it very cryptic. Sometimes our subconscious screams at us. This time it was unusually shrill. 

​My dear friend recently received a cancer diagnosis. Not yet 40, her full chest, always a source of pride, was now a source of sickness multiplying inside of her.
 
The most stoic, most capable of us all, we nicknamed her Mother Goose. Young and in our twenties when we met, it was she that kept us out of the shady bars while traveling in foreign countries. It was she who made sure the lights were turned out, the alarms were set, the curling irons were turned off, the reservations had been made, our temperatures had come down.