Thoughts from an introvert.

I came home from church exhausted. In more ways than one. I had attended the early service and I never do that. Normally, I wait and go to the 11:15 service because it gives me time to enjoy my morning, get ready, etc. etc. Well, we had a little beast join our home about a month ago, and he looks very much like a miniature golden doodle puppy. In fact, he is. And to date, he is the love our lives. (No, we don't have kids yet and no, we don't love our dog more than each other), but you get the point. We have a puppy. And puppies take time and energy! And more than that, I did NOT realize that you might as well have a feeding schedule similar to a newborn, because now, I have to get up EARLY. And that depresses me! So, because of this new little transition in our lives, I decided that I might as well get up with the little being and go on with my day productively instead of wasting my morning trying to go back to sleep in between barks and bites. Hence the early service. So I get ready and barely make it out the door on time (and I don't even have the "mom of five children" excuse yet-- I just have the "mom of dog" excuse... which i've never heard used as an excuse. oh well). But somehow I manage to get to church at the tail end of my hubby's song that he is leading. Sadly, I'm actually proud that I made it during the last five phrases so that i can honestly tell him that I made it for his song and that he sounded good. (Yes, even worship leaders wonder if they sound good). So, as I take my seat with a large handful of our friends, I finally settle in enough to touch the presence of God. And, boy, do I love it. Then the handshaking time comes and I see my Dad on the front row... so I go say hi to him and then feel a little bad that I can't sit with him (I am a hopeless golden retriever personality with the accompanying qualities to go with it, even though I know my dad could care less). Nevertheless, I finally take my seat again. Ok, I am settled. I can listen. Finally. The sermon is great. All about family. Reminds me of the wonderful home i was brought up in. So I shoot my dad a text about how much the story of chaotic family devotions sounds just like our food-fighting devotional times growing up. Then I feel slightly guilty that I texted in church.. who saw me? Oh well, who cares. I'm letting this one go. Tune in again. At last, the wonderful sermon is over. It's time to greet new friends and talk to old ones. Then Seth runs up and says that he saw a girl raise her hand to receive Christ and that he felt like I should go talk to her. Well, I thought that he just wanted me to go with him to talk to her since he didn't want to do it by himself and needed a female to accompany him. But of course, a few minutes later, we're both standing there participating in shallow conversations when I realize that I had misread my cue because he is shooting me that "confused, slightly disappointed" look. Apparently, I had missed my divine appointment. Ok, now I'm feeling like a spiritual failure. The only hope now is to run for the decaf coffee and pat myself on the back that I chose decaffeinated! Lord knows I could use more than a shot of caffeine in this moment!! So right as I'm getting my DECAF coffee, I visit with another wonderful couple about potentially coming to our small group, but everything in me wants to simply tell them that, surely, I will have it more together on Thursday night. Because as we're talking to them, all my mind can think about is how we're gonna get my leaky tire patched up after church! I apparently zone off and leave my friend talking with my husband who then shyly just waves goodbye. Because clearly, I was checked out. Classy. Ugh, at this point, I give up. Where is my head?? In between the conversations and coffee, my head is also on my precious grandmother who is dying and who has now been told that this go around probably is truly the end. I called yesterday, in fact, just to make sure that my aunt could save some sentimental odds and ends for me that were my grandmother's. At this point, I could break down. But there's no time to because my husband is staring me in the face saying, "Ok, well you're coffee buzz has kicked in (he totally overlooked the decaf choice!) and you're totally zoned so just meet me at the tire and lube place after church." Right. Ok, I will. So I walk out in the rain with my coffee in hand and I finally get in my car. The car ride home was actually slightly peaceful and therapeutic, once i got past all the thoughts of who I'd forgotten to talk to at church or shoved off during the meet and greet. Finally, I make it in the door. And there my precious puppy-beast is, greeting me with sleepy smiles and refreshed behavior. I take him outside for a potty and, of course, he doesn't go. But at least he's behaving. I sit down at my computer, ready to browse something or at least get a few mindless minutes to myself when I realize that I'm reaching for the only chocolate i can find in the house-- semi-sweet chocolate chips. And I down half the bag. Ok, at this point, I stop and realize that something else is going on inside of me more than the need for an entire bag of semi-sweet morsels (why do they call them morsels anyway when they know you're gonna eat the entire rest of the bag??). Something is tired. Something is frustrated. Something is reaching for something more. Something is craving fulfillment. Something inside of me is longing to get to a deeper, more introspective place and it just simply can't be found in the chocolate chips. I realized it was a need for time spent with the One who life is all about. To actually spend time with the One who we run all our ministry meetings for and host coffee conversations about. Had I let him know this week in spite of all the craziness that I love HIM, not just that he loves me? And that I desire and crave to get into his presence and touch his face and let all of his "oks" calm my "not-enoughs"? I put down the bag of chocolate chips (that I was LITERALLY inhaling) and sit down just for a few minutes to ponder. To think upon him. To think about what I've been thinking about all week in between the red lights and errands... that He is virtually the One thing in the world that is absolute. That He NEVER fails. That He ALWAYS is present. That He is EVER lasting. That He is CONSTANT. That He NEVER leaves. That His love is EVERLASTING. That NEVER ONCE have we ever walked alone... There is not one person on the face of this earth that we can ascribe these absolutes to and yet he is the one that we spend the LEAST amount of time with. It reminds me of that disciple, wiry and rough around the edges that made a profound declaration to the Christ after being asked if he loved Him , "Lord, to whom else would i go???" And so it is. To whom else shall we or could we go? He's it. Amidst our busy schedules and noble purposes FOR him, He. Is. It. Do we stop to be introspective and to quiet all the craziness in order to co-exist with the one who is NEVER chaotic? I suddenly found myself raising my hands from a kitchen counter bar stool and lifting my head to the heavens and singing with the most powerful form, "You are faithful, God, You are faithful... Never once did we ever walk alone." Over and over and over and over again. In my messy, brand-new kitchen, with dishes already piled high and caramel completely hardened on the counter from the night-before's carameled apples. There was I. Breathing in and out for the first time in weeks. Saying it over and over and over again. In and out. In and out. "You are faithful." Inhale. "You are faithful." Exhale. "God, You are Faithful." Inhale. "You are faithful." Exhale. The dog even settled down and looked at me as if I was half crazy/half amazing. And that right there is what I want my kids to see one day. That their momma had time to lift her eyes up to the heavens and breathe Him in and out in the midst of carameled counters and everything else. That He is it, after all. And that if we don't make time to be His loves, we will never be satisfied with the intoxication of that which is highly possibly and ONLY satisfying. There we are again, faced head-on with the fact that He is the ONLY thing that can ever be totally satisfying. And if we tap into earlier rather than later, we might just eat a few less chocolate chips and have a few more enjoyable days in spite of the piled laundry and endless errands. And then we might even be ok when his timing and purposes sometimes bring what appears to be death or postponement or disappointment. We will just look our heavy heart towards the heavens, breathing out the only thing we know to breathe, "You are faithful, God. You. are. faithful." And after the music's stopped, we will still be breathing... Because it's all we know to do. My phone beeped with a message. It was Seth, and I needed to be at the tire and lube center in 10 minutes. The caramel was still on the kitchen counter. And my next stop that I, still, would rather not run awaited me. But my heart was full. I had found time to look upon His face in the cracks of my schedule. The frustrations waned a little bit. And I felt like I had pushed the "water" button on the refrigerator drink dispenser of my soul. Perhaps that's why He says we need to be "continually filled, praying always." In and out. In and out. Breathing.

I used to sing a song as a 15 year-old all the time. It went like this: "There must be more than this, Spirit of God, we wait for you. There must be more than this, Spirit of God, come breathe within. Fill us anew we pray..." I can remember it. Over and over again, I would sing it. The minor elements in the melody were just as riveting as the words. I would sing that song with unction, with passion, with gut. Matthew 9:36 had met my heart and my lips. For the one of the first times in my life. It was like fire in my bones, fire in my life. I had never experienced anything like this season of my life before nor had ever had Something so huge to live for... ever! And now I was praying it over and over and over again. Like I meant it. Like I had hope. Like I was Lucy, and I had stepped through the wardrobe... and discovered Narnia. This stage of my life reflected an uncovering of mysteries and glories that I never knew were associated with God. I had passion, I had dreams, and I had prayers. Huge ones. And I prayed like there was no stopping me. And no stopping God, for that matter. I was just one wildly excited teenage girl and I was going to be something great for God, and do something great with God. It's been exactly 10 years since that 15 year old year. And as the cursor blinks on this page, my silent words and emotions get caught over a lump in my throat as I swallow. Nostalgia floods my heart and my soul as I hear and remember those chords which still ring so true and so deeply within my would. When you are wildly on fire for God, what happens when things look differently than you think? When dreams die, when things don't go as you plan, and worse than that, as you pray, what then? When you go back to that place where time seems to stand still yet you are the one who has changed. Like Dorothy in Kansas. Or George in It's a Wonderful Life. When your passion for God doesn't go as planned. When your great things for God don't pan out how you envisioned. When your prayers are answered with a wait, and moreover, a no. You've lived long enough to have a few things nailed in the ground and you know it's not a wait. It's a no. It's a Joshua screaming in your face and saying, "moses is dead! He's dead! ok! enough already!" You gotta move on and have enough strength to leave the why's buried with Moses. And leave the what if's with God's permissive and sovereign will. There is something about the first time we experience God. Like Moses on Mount Sinai, the Ten Commandments in hand. You just want to go back there again and again and again and again. And recreate the fire and the wind and the voice and the presence and the sounds and the feelings. and the mountaintop experience. I do believe that God gives us intentionally profound first places to experience Him so that we will go back and remember and remember and remember. The nostalgia of that passion will create history, committment, and fire. But at some point, we gotta realize that he led David into the pastures for 11 years before he became king. David cleaned up sheep pie versions of cow pie and tried to stay ahead of a booty load of pride-filled older brothers. God led Paul into the tent making business for 4 years before he became the apostle of all times. Talk about a desert. But he would certainly need it. Alot of hard things came his way soonafter. It's kinda sad, really, thinking about what followed even the desert times. As if that wasn't bad enough! Hiding in caves for David, and persecution for Paul. Same goes for the disciples. What is this religion anyway? Sounds like torture! "Come one, come all--- sign up for a lifetime of events that just get increasingly harder! it's worth it!" And then you realize that at the end of their lives, they received their Portion in full--- Himself. As they exchanged the comforts of the present, the lengthened the value of their life by building Something that lasts far into the next Kingdom. In theory, we all know it's the right choice and well worth it, but how do we move our head to our hearts? I wonder, then, if those men ever missed those first mountaintop moments involving their first callings and experiences with God. Paul on the road to Damascus. David getting anointed by Samuel. Killing the giant with a stone. Putting fishing nets down and following a man who turns water into wine and getting to spread the loaves that he multiplies. This life, it's not easy. There is a moment where you realize you're too far in to go back on it, but you're not too far away to miss the early days. You can't stay long, but it doesn't hurt to soak in the feeling just for a moment, of when you first fell in love. Fell in love with the passion, the bigness, Him. It's where the history's at. Just like a wedding day. Just like the birth of a child. There is a time and a place to remember. And the bittersweet pang is all good and all hard. Remembering and accepting and relishing why it was that we first fell in love. When all the butterflies go away and all the glow is worn down to a faint ember. We can still settle deep into the reality that we have a love worth growing, in the seasons of life, when summer turns to fall and fall to winter and winter to spring. We will be seasoned with Him. And hopefully, when the seasons are coming to a close, with all the rest, hopefully we will be found with them who gave Him their life, their commitment, their love even when the whys turned to silence and the questions turned to trust. And He, too, will say to us, "Blessed are they who are not offended by Me." May we be found in the Hebrews hall of fame where even those who lived by faith died without seeing the promise. But the Portion was worth it.

Remembering.
The Israelites were not so good at this. Neither were the 9 lepers. But the 1 was. And how I desire to be that one. And how it much touch the soul of God to hear us s-p-e-c-i-f-i-c-a-l-l-y name and remember what he has done. to RECOUNT the ways he has been faithful. to RECOUNT the plans he specifically concocted just for us to get us out of hard situations or take us through them. It must feel like an "afterglow." Like sitting around after a wedding with confetti on the floor, the bride and groom off to their honeymoon destination, when the family just sits around and talks about the ways it was wonderful, a magical success. There is REASON and NEED for sitting around and THANKING God for what He has done, how wonderful it is, and how it makes us feel. He has not withheld his mighty hand and he needs to be recognized for it. And yet most of the world passes without thanking Him. And yet He continues to be faithful. Today, this one is all for You, God. Just to thank You. Just to sit around and have an "afterglow" about the things you have done in my life.

Thank You for providing dill soup that time when I knew it was a direct little present from You. I loved that.
Thank You for getting me through those months in Searcy that were so lonely. Thanks for for the snow cones and swings :) Especially the rainbow one that time ;)
Thank You for turning my head towards You and allowing me to overcome my flesh in the department of anger. I count that a great victory and I continue to rely on Your power.
Thank You for Scripture verses on note cards. Those things are like candy to me. Sweets throughout the day. I relish them. They bring me great comfort.
Thank You for my amazing family. I love them dearly and cherish those nieces and nephews. Especially Logan's popcorn face the other day.
Thank You for the friendship with Seth that we have developed. I am so thankful.
Thank You for Brandon.
Thank You for Genessa and her sweet face. I love that child, though I never met her. Y'all don't have too much fun up there without me before I get there...
Thank You for bringing us through months of internal conflict and battling. I revel in the peace that You bring. I love it.
Thank You for Seth's job and for having someone who provides for me and does it so well. I am thankful.
Thank You for all my shopping trips! How blessed I am! I love those tjmaxx runs. Those are the best.
Thank You for Your Word. Without it, I would have no hope for healing. I LOVE IT.

I hope nobody reads this. seriously. it's one of those days where I'm too tired (or discouraged) to get up and walk over to my journal (you know, the paper one.. not the electronic kind??) yeah that one. I've been perusing the internet and other blogs and now it's just perfect to stay slouched and put out a few thoughts of my own in hopes that the purpose of this blog will serve the opposite of its purpose today... to not be read by those around me but to touch my own soul, its writer.

I wish I had a place where I could get out, run wild, pick a wildflower, get dirt underneath my fingernails, and simply be, by myself. But, alas, I live in a city (small at least) where there is nowhere to run wild and express your heart openly, loudly, and honestly. So this blinking cursor and blank screen must serve as my wild field. And, we will pretend that I am wearing a sundress that flows right along with my untamed, curly hair (which I do not have... instead, I have a slept on bee-hive after having been to the salon yesterday where they tried a "tease powder" that makes me look like I stepped right off a 60's movie set). I just need somewhere to roam wild today and express my heart, unkempt.

It's nothing horribly serious. It's no crisis. But it's just one of those days where you have been consistent in the Holy Bible, cultivating a daily and deeper relationship with Jesus, the One, and yet you're coming up dry. Not dry as in "i can't feel Him.." thankfully, i have gotten past that saga and pushed through enough to benefit from the discipline that commitment PAYS off, and in a big way. Instead, this day is just an annoying feeling.. as in, I have to do some things that i just don't want to do. period.

I took a bath last night, (which is my clear my head, yell out my frustrations, figure it out time without anyone seeing!) and while doing so, asked God, "really? I just don't want to do this!" (not the bath, but something else in my life that is just a difficult spot) the the response was, "well, you're gonna have to go through it one way or the other, so you might as well go with a good attitude and save your rear end." Upon hearing that answer, my frustration rose JUST like a child throwing a temper tantrum, "but i don't want to!!!" So I said, "Ok God, if that's the case, then give me some sort of a visual, a story, an analogy that I can relate to." And he did...

So this is the story. I was 4 or 5 years old (wish i could remember the exact schoolyear) and my family was in Gatlinburg, Tennessee having a lovely family vacation. We always went there in the fall every few years to enjoy the fall colors and celebrate family... Not to eliminate the fact that my parents went to college there and were first young marrieds there, which brought about its own sentimentality and charm. It was a crisp, cold fall morning and we were all going out, probably to the Pancake Pantry, our FAVORITE swiss-village breakfast stop. After that, we would probably head onto the rest of the lil' mountain village, like little gnomes wandering the hillside. Anyway, we were leaving for the day. And you must know that in a family of four little girly girls, we were shuffling around to figure out the morning routine, and this time it was a little exciting because we were in a MOTEL room. So with that said, we were out of our morning routines. Or at least i was...

The issue was that i didn't want to wear the brightly colored, neon star-studded turtle neck that my mom had picked out to match a perfect pair of hot pink, neon cordouroy pants. I know what she was thinking... that this would be a GREAT outfit for the cool, crisp weather where the youngest of four little girls would complete the look with her neon colored half-moons and stars wrapped around her neck! But apparently, i didn't do turtle necks. Or at least not that day. It was on. I could feel it coming... that temper tantrum that you reeeally don't want to have, but you just can't help it because you don't like that shirt, the way it looks or feels! it's not that you're TRYING to be a bad child or rebellious, but you just can't stand it. Your spirit rises, then the anger, then the tears, then the set-in will. There's no turning back these feelings.

My sisters were all outside on the motel playground by this point on those little boingy figurine animals. I remember clearly. And i was waiting inside battling it out with my mom near the window heating and cooling system, trying to convince her, or moreover, rebel against her, that i WAS NOT GOING. Until we changed this crazy shirt. Well, thanks to the credit of my amazing (how did they know what to do??) parents, they didn't give in. And this is what she told me, "You are going in that outfit.. it looks so adorable, Rachel-- with those stars and pants-- and we are not changing... So, we need to leave and you will come with us whether you are mad or not. And if you are mad, you will not enjoy the day and ruin it for yourself. So it's up to you, but we need to leave. " And with that, we left. Everybody else was happily playing and it even appeared that they skipped when we left the motel?! Nobody said a word and there I was, having to follow in line and take my place, like the last duck on Make Way for Ducklings. I remember being in my own world and thoughts. And what's shocking is that when we crossed a little bridge that led into town, I remember actually FEELING cute! In my outfit. It was definitely a subtle feeling, but everybody else had gone on, and there I was beginning to ENJOY the day. I didn't dare say a word for at least another 20 minutes, just to prove that, of COURSE, I was still mad or at least put out about the outfit situation. And with that, I enjoyed the day. And remembered it for another 20 years.

Back to the bathtub scenario... all of my bubbles had pretty much dissolved as I sat with just a twinge of that same disgruntled spirit when I remembered the star-studded neon turtleneck and the fact that, indeed, God had provided an analogy. And a good one at that. Why is it that He always comes through with good ones? I was looking for a different form of comfort! But instead, I heard something from the Divine to the effect of, "You have to go tomorrow and do what needs to be done. There's no way around it. So you can either go with a good attitude or a bad one. But, we're going." And with that, I got out of the tub, did the next thing and woke up this morning, still with a tiny twinge of the tantrum, but realized that THIS is what a good parent does. There's no way around it.

So I guess this blogging is the end of my 20 minutes of acting at least like I'm put out about this situation I'm in, but realizing there's no other way around it but through it. And I'm actually feeling good about it and thankful that i have a Parent who does the right thing and doesn't just give me what I want, but what's best. I can't see why yet, but there must be a reason for it. Afterall, he is God.

Uh-oh. Something is messing with me. I read this today:
"No, this is the kind of fasting I want: Free those who are wrongly imprisoned; lighten the burden of those who work for you. Let the oppressed go free, and remove the chains that bind people. Share your food with the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless. Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide from relatives who need your help. THEN your salvation WILL COME like the dawn, AND your wounds will QUICKLY heal."

I have been searching for healing like someone dying of thirst in a desert. I have found 99% of the answer, I think, which is to go after God with everything I've got, simply to know Him more, not just to fix all my issues and fulfill all my wants. But I never expected the healing part to come in the latter 1% of what I found in the prophet's words. I have been looking for a quick fix and this is the first spot I've ever seen the Bible shoot it straight and tell me that my wounds won't just heal--- but heal QUICKLY!!! How? "By sharing food with the hungry and giving shelter to the homeless. By giving clothes to those in need and helping family that needs help." What on earth? What in the world does this have to do with healing my wounds?? I thought healing would come by someone rocking my hurts away??!! Give clothes to the poor?! I'm sorry to expose the raw selfishness and ugliness of my heart. I am ashamed, but it is what it is. If I am ever gonna become healthy and whole and like Christ, I'm gonna have to start somewhere.

It is embarrassing and humbling to admit that my major reason for wanting to give to the poor is selfish: to be healed. But if this is gonna have to be how it happens, then change me in the process. Maybe that's the point... as I get my eyes off my measly issues and focus onto what God considers a very important issue that is obviously near and dear to His heart. I'm just about all in. All I gotta do is run this by the husband. And knowing him, he'll be all in too.

If you don't think that God speaks in themes, well, He does. It's not coincidence. So after I read that verse, I read another blog today... and the title? "Christmas: Who's Birthday Is it Really?" Yes, you guessed... it was the blogger that I always blog about. Beth Moore said to pray to be like the people you admire, so I guess you can pinpoint who I'm praying to be like. Today Ann blogged about a tradition that started 10 years ago in her home when her oldest son challenged her Christmas theology right into a crisis of belief by asking the question: "If we sacrifice and give gifts to those we love on their birthday, then why don't we do that for Jesus on His birthday?"

It's been 10 years since the Voskamp families Christmas tree holds food for hungry children, clothes for unclothed babies, and water for those who can't drink... all in the Name of the real Birthday Boy. The gifts under their tree look a little different and none of them get opened on Christmas day, but are given away instead. I'm venturing out to say, but pretty confident, that salvation has fully come in the Voskamp home along with a quick dose of healing for that family. They have been healed by thinking about others. And in the meantime, those parents have given their children a gift of a lifetime: the gift of selflessness. That will keep them in good stead for the rest of their lives and allow salvation to thrive all their days long, with an ongoing salve for their wounds that come along the way.

It's time to do as Jesus suggested in His gospels: "Stop doubting and start believing." In other words, just do it. Don't think about. Don't mull over it. Don't get opinions or take a poll. Show immediate obedience. "This is how they will know they are My followers: by their obedience to Me and by their love for each other."

Snow. He came through.

Just when I thought I was giving out... and my faith was dying down, He came through. It's one thing to hope, or trust, or know, or believe that God will come through. And it's another to see it. And in the sweetest way. I have had a fettish lately with snow. Looking at snow scenes in ornaments. Watching movies with vintage snow scenes. Thinking about its purity and timelessness. And tonight--in Arknasas-- God let those little light and puffy snowflakes fall right before my eyes and right into my world.

The reality of its coldness as it touched my nose along with its gentle force as it hit my windshield as I drove was a tangible agreement that God is here. It doesn't always happen by things you can see and touch, but praise God, it did tonight. I was needing some of that. Sometimes it's faith and sometime's it's trials but sometimes you just get to sit back and be taken care of. The snow was like a little security blanket just wrapped right around me and is continuing to bring me security even as a type out these musings while it falls outside my window.

Thank you God for newness. Thank you God for perfect timing. You know just when to show up and just when to come save the day before we break. Thank you God for purity, without spot or blemish. Thank you God for whiteness. It represents so much refreshment that visibly and tangibly wipes a clean slate in life. Let that snow keep falling outside my window and let it keeping thawing my heart right to the very middle.

Hmmm... i hate the idea of writing about another blogger, but I must! And it's not just another blogger... it THE blogger of all time! Ann Voskamp. yeah, you've heard of her. She's also sold a book and made millions. And she did so by being thankful.

I went to her blog today and found the most precious pictures of... kittens. kittens. they were so tiny and sweet. one was drinking milk out of a blue bowl and the other was curled around a little girl's neck. I wish that I had a kitten right now. It seemed so easy to be thankful about what Ann was thankful about! It was those kittens thought brought her from a bad mood to a good mood today, so I'm sure if I had those then I would feel the same way! Isn't this a sad way of life... "if only i had her small area of thankfulness, i would too!: pout." I'm missing the point. What is it in my life that I have to be thankful for? Right now? as I sit on the couch from sleeplessness and another long day? What brings life to these dry bones? I look around my tiny apartment and search for what it is that could make me thankful. I look up at my tree and I find an ornament that has a snow scene on it. evergreens with frosted snow weighing down the branches. I find myself in that. My camera is broken, or i would post... I remember being in the first grade. We were asked to create a little scene inside of an empty checkbook box with a hole cut out of the top and sealed with wax paper. When you held it up to the light, it would make the little scene come to life. That is the first time I saw God. That scene is forever etched in my head. Thank you, God. Cottonballs and magazine cut-outs of a farm house with a fireplace and a long snow-covered road. I would secretly go get that little box and hold it up to the light for hours. In there, the awe of another world, of heaven I suppose, came to earth. to my little 5-year old eyes. I knew God was safe. If He was cozy enough to fit inside a little box and be huge all at the same time, I knew I wanted to be apart of Him.

So tonight... I don't have pictures of all of these thankful things. But I can list them. I am thankful for:
Little snow scenes in a box...
Colorado trees.
Jay saying "arrgh" like a pirate.
Pineapple.
Peace.
Sapphire rings.
Steadfast love.