A Bedtime Story for Today.

Once upon a time, there was this young price who rode up on a white stallion and encountered a maiden in distress. They stopped, smelled the roses and enjoyed the beauty of the forest, then made their way back to the city where their fame and wealth would precede them. They lived happily ever after.

Let's start over, many centuries later:

Once there was this gal who had a job since she got out of high school. She worked every day from eight to five and collected her paycheck. She had all sorts of friends who surrounded her. They all went out on Thursday nights, Friday nights and did a bonfire on Saturday night. On Sunday, she went to church, then she started her week all over again.

This fair maiden soon realized something was missing from her routine. So she searched out the young prince. She found toads, she found lizards and she found snakes. She worked some more and kept to her routine. Life happened and as she looked around she wondered what this fairy tale was all about. She decided to take the advice of others and not be so picky, but she wasn't too thrilled. Sometimes it didn't feel like her. She worked and she worked some more. She enjoyed it and it felt good. Life happened and somewhere along the line, the fairy tale turned into something so generic that she couldn't believe it was happening to her.

Picking up her courage and vowing off Disney, she continued. She worked some more and did as much as she could to continue. Slowly but surely, instead of being a princess, she became one of them: a statistic, just someone, that girl. The family and friends that surrounded the princess sustained her and even though she felt that she couldn't do it, she knew their faith in her would keep her moving forward.

She worked and worked some more. Then she had a moment that changed her whole entire world. And as she looked into the eyes of her very own princess she vowed that it would never be the same. As they grew together, they found a rhythm to life. It wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, but it was okay.

As the older princess continued to care for the young one, she noticed a certain fair young man who had princely features. No matter what route in the market she chose, the young prince appeared. After many attempts of courtship, the fair young maiden gave in. She was intrigued, but worried about the fair young prince's need to enjoy his youth. A week later, full of purpose, he swept her off her feet. They decided to join their lives together and go forward from there. So the two princesses, young and old, and the fair prince became a family. They kept their normal day to day schedule and as the princess continued she felt like she was outliving the statistic. Life was happening and it was good.

They continued to grow their family and increase their kingdom. Sometimes they won, sometimes they lost. Although things weren't always perfect, the first princess and the fair prince still had their love for each other. Castles and jobs and things fade away, but the two stayed the same. Every night they curled up in each others arms with dreams full of the promises of tomorrow together. They are still dreaming and still living...

Turn the Lights On

Sometimes no matter how long you have been doing something, you can have a moment that makes you doubt your capabilities. When my daughter woke up with a raging fever this morning, seven years of experience leaped out the window and left me in a puddle of questions. As I sat there holding my precious baby that has grown so much, I was taken back to the first time I held each of my children. I remember the wonder and awe that I gazed upon them with. I remember the unshakable feeling of wondering if I could possibly take care of this precious little bundle as well as I am supposed to. How was this big kid trusted with the care of something so reliant, so fragile and so precious?

In my "formative years" i.e. early twenties, I worked in a medical office. I remember panicked moms calling in for different symptoms, childhood illnesses, wanting immediate attention. I knew the generic response and the protocol for these situations. Because I also worked in medical records, I also remember the usual outcome of most of the diagnosis and treatments. I always said I didn't want to be that paranoid parent. Sometimes it seems like that experience is so far removed that I forget the basics.

The middle of the night often brings out desperation and feelings of being alone. It amplifies things that are ordinarily not scary during the middle of the day for children and adults alike. Sitting with a child feverish, shaking with cold and feeling so utterly inept to relieve their discomfort can be magnified by 100x in the wee hours of the morning. It's like the darkness increases the fear of what you cannot see. As I swept her hair off of her sweaty forehead, I had to go back to the facts and quit worrying about the things I couldn't see. It didn't stop me from questioning my aptitude as a parent, but as I filed through the facts in my head, whatever it was that was consuming my child in the darkness didn't feel as threatening.

While sitting there, I found it ironic that I was comforting, commanding some sort of order in the circumstance, while still feeling inept. There are some things that are just ingrained in us. Instincts. I have always been amazed at the motherly instinct, the knowing of things that were otherwise unpracticed. I was not a babysitter. I hated babysitting. I didn't have any previous experience. When I was pregnant with my first, I would waver between courage and wondering if I would do okay. Recently, while looking at job opportunities, I was convinced that no one else could do my job of mom as well as I do. One night of illness took me back to wondering about my certifications even though all of my instincts kicked in. 

I know it is not the first time that this will happen in the course of being mom. Every stage and every year is different. But I do know that the compass of my heart will continue to point me back to what I know and that incredible knowing that was instilled deep inside when I became Mom: Instinct. It's easy to get carried away with what if. When the lights turn on, everything looks normal again. Sometimes we just have to take a breath, remember the facts and not let the unknown cause undue worry.

Call Me Girl

When I was a little girl, I didn't want to be called Tori for whatever reason. I wanted to be called girl. You can ask my mom how long that lasted. My kids, fortunately, haven't gone through that stage yet. I think it is normal to look around and wish to have some of the qualities we see in other people, if not be called a different name.

I have wished many times I could be the total opposite of myself. I have friends who are crafty: in the arts and craft sort of way, not scheming. I have others who are just bouncy no matter what they post: they make everything look good. Then there others who are amazing at connecting with others and doing thoughtful things. They all inspire me and sometimes make me feel that little twinge of guilt for not spending more time on tasks like those. 

One of the things that come with being a mom is repetition. I feel like in the five years I have been a stay at home mom, I have done and said the same things over and over again. I am constantly looking one step ahead and directing traffic. I keep an eye on what is going on around us and what everyone is doing. I thought this was unique to my job. 

It hasn't been until the last year or so that I realized I have been doing that for a lot longer than five years. In fact, my oldest daughter reminds me that it is quite possible I was born doing it. The other day I was searching for a kitchen utensil, wondering where on earth we would have put it other than the normal drawer it resides in. When I found it in another drawer, it made sense, but it wasn't where it should have been. My husband told me afterwards that our oldest had been helping with the dishes. Memories came flooding back of me telling my mom the right way to fold socks or, even better, folding all the towels the same way and putting them in closet color coded. My mom said I was nine years old. She asked me where I had learned it, because no one she knew did that. It was just something I had come up with. 

While contemplating myself as a whole, I sometimes feel like I come up lacking in some areas. Compassion, the warm fuzzy things and being more relational are just a few. Sometimes I feel like I am constantly bossy, planning ahead, moving with force through tasks. I always wonder why I am not a better care taker or one who enjoys sending cards or making a phone call to say hi. I always feel functional instead of frilly. I often fight with who I am and wonder if there is any way that I could be less bossy or less involved in everything that goes on around me. It drives me crazy. I get tired of constantly butting in and making things happen.

Two years ago, I volunteered my services to start coordinating conferences for church. It felt weird, kind of foreign. I distinctly remember how I felt walking in to a group of people that were older than me to present my idea and give them the responsibility of carrying it out. I felt like a snot nosed little brat when I walked in to a group of people that I respected and loved trying to direct traffic. I didn’t realize the overall effect it was going to have in my life. 

Two years later, I feel like the work I’ve invested has been one of the most fulfilling and greatest things I have done using the qualities I sometimes felt were domineering. I can’t explain how amazing it is to see something on paper for four to six months, then watch it carried out to the fullest of intentions. After having four conferences go pretty well, I feel like I have reached a point where I can relax and appreciate the time invested. I build structure and strategy then incorporate others to put it into action. 

Those traits that I thought were overbearing and annoying were used in their full potential for something good. Everyone needs someone or something to evaluate their plumb-line of normal. I am fortunate to have not only a really great mom, but she is also a counselor who finds joy in telling many different types of people they are normal. In return, I get to tell other task oriented function lovers that they are normal as well. Thankfully, when bossiness, planning ahead and moving with force through tasks are used in a different manner, they can be positive as well.

There are days when I look around at the people in my life that make things go and feel so fortunate to have such an amazing group of family and friends. When my strengths seem obnoxious, I can look at what we all do together and relax. Their strengths help balance mine in a way that makes it all seem more productive and planned. 

We were made to be ourselves. It’s a beautiful thing when it develops into a purpose and a plan, utilizing those qualities to their full potential. It brings peace to the inner person who wants to be someone else and allows us to appreciate the qualities in others that help make it work. We weren’t made to complete the picture, just to contribute to a portion of the whole picture.

Better Late Than Never

Happy Belated New Year, everyone. I have sat down many times to write some type of meaningful, encouraging message. Everything I came up with has sounded like a devotional, a Dear Abby column or some kind of pledge that would be chanted during a Women Are Mighty Xena Warrior Princesses meeting. I have been scraping bottom for an original thought for two weeks now.

I really love reading my friends' blogs. People around me posted all this brilliant stuff and I began to question my own personal skill. I'm really not an original creative crafter, a masterpiece chef, a professional photographer, a motivational speaker or even a revolutionary decorator. I am comfortable, practical and totally not ashamed to try someone else's idea. Sometimes my blunt ramblings don't feel as witty or even as substantial as I hope they are.

In between blankly staring at the Blogger screen and writing up other projects, I have had other minor distractions besides writer's block, inferiority and figuring out if I am, indeed, a writer. I spilled my coffee on the carpet my husband so thoughtfully cleaned. My computer shut down and refused to cooperate by turning on. Going on strike, I think my laptop thought it found it's permanent resting place. Little did Acer know that it could be totally dismantled and brought back from computer Bermuda.

It was with great relief that while chatting with a very dear friend the other night, I remembered why I started my blog. For a couple of different reasons, my thirtieth birthday just wasn't what I thought would be like. I wasn't sure if that was a personal thing or related to circumstances. After review, I really feel it was a point of personal growth.That's why I named the blog A Week After Thirty. It was my place that I could just release myself. It was my productive way of unwinding all of the complicated thoughts and misconceptions I had about this new decade in my life. It was a place to mark growth and remember the funny things that make my day.

As revelers were counting down til the midnight hour that marks the New Year, I was also counting down. I was remembering the New Years' past. I was counting down to the end of a momentous year. I was counting down the minutes until I knew things would feel as though they really did "start over". At any birthday or New Year, I think it is totally normal to look at oneself and expect ourselves to be further than where we are. I remember a couple very wonderful times that I actually felt as though I had succeeded as those minutes were marked. Both were based upon arrival at goals and measured by what most people consider success: a home, a family, bills paid off, money in savings, a new business or job.

However, after discussing this with my friend, I realized that my heart has shifted in recognizing success. A person's success cannot be measured by judging oneself by the performance of other people or their acquisition of things. It comes from being your own individual. It comes by looking at your next year as a blank canvass to be painted with your experience. It comes by appreciating the simple things that have been placed before you and finding joy in what you have instead of what you don't. It comes from recognizing mistakes and learning enough from them to change your course of action. Not everyone's journey through life is the same.

Sharing that journey is one of the most important parts. It encourages others to hope and to succeed. So thank you, for reading, commenting and supporting me as I write about mine here! I hope that it brings an element of normal to your thoughts, to your days and to your experiences. May the coffee stay in the cup, the computer remain functioning, and well, the princess thing... yeah, do with it what you will.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

We’ve all done the white elephant, but this time it is about something different. It’s about connecting and sharing life with others. It’s about reaching out beyond home and being a part of a community. Whether it’s your neighborhood, your town, club, church or online, it’s important.

Unlike most moms that I connected to, I had a different approach to life. Life found me. As much as I thought myself a planner, I wasn’t. I embraced experiences and ended up learning more from them than I thought. My husband and I got married with one kid and then promptly had two more, moved twice and started a business. I started staying at home after pre term labor with my second child. The first four months were bliss. During that time, we sold our house, packed up and moved our household. Then I was thrust into the world of being a stay at home mom.

I was younger than most moms in the local community. To my two, most had one. I was desperately searching out a new routine when I went to a local park with my two year old and two week old baby. I remember the feeling of exhaustion as I pushed the two year old in the swing with the baby securely attached with a Snugli. When it came time to go home, I remember distinctly the crying of my two year old and my two week old as we went back to the truck. Fully engorged, needing to nurse and dealing with a meltdown, I wondered when mom got a chance to meltdown as well.

I joined some local mom’s groups and checked out a few, but the desire to connect with other real moms wasn’t really satisfied. I got discouraged, realizing that what I wanted and what was presented weren’t the same. My kids came into my life to compliment my life, not to complete my identity. As I struggled to find the balance between the two, I talked to my mom. I would cry, wondering where all the normal people were: the ones that taught function, not just paid for entertainment.

As I spread my wings and pushed out into the community to find out if there really was life out there, I found more friends along the way. One came in the form of a consignment shop. I lived to stop by there for not only the friendship, but also the amazing spread of secondhand maternity clothes and kid’s clothes available. Some of my greatest friends came through visiting the store out of a need to just GO somewhere.

I also joined a local Yahoo group for moms, but I wasn’t prepared for where it would take me. We had one gal that was a very motivated recruiter. She introduced me to the people I would share coffee with for years later. Little did I know these women would shape my years of transitioning from a working mom to a stay at home mom. With some of them, I have developed such deep friendships that I have either met them or I have shared our most private moments and many hours with for the entire time since my introduction.

I have shared several different milestones with these amazing mothers: from graduating from college, several births and a couple of grandchildren to fresh marriages, losing homes, Kindergarten, middle school and the things that no one ever told you about being a mom. All of it meant more and felt more normal shared with other women. It took a while, but through many different avenues I finally found the normal that I was looking for in raising children in real life.

It was a slow start easing into the forum that I would soon call home. I based my norm off of these women I shared my life with every day. Some of us would chat every Friday and Saturday night which was a relief from the transition of fun girl to motherhood. The only other example I had besides my mother was a co-worker I worked with for years. When you are stumbling into a new frontier, the best thing you can have is allies.

Many of these women have become real to me through our relationship online. One from Wisconsin regularly sends a Christmas package from her kids to mine. Our family has sent packages to others as well. We’ve gone to a wedding and spent our family vacation with some that live a couple hours away. We have shared so much more than pictures and our deepest secrets in this place. It is a true example of relationships forged through adversity and small every day victories.

When we moved back to Bend a couple years ago, I was sad to say good bye to our small community in Redmond. I was reintroduced to the yahoo group that I was a part of. Having three kids under three was often overwhelming and made it hard to get out. Many of the women that I was unable to connect with before were now available. I spent many a happy coffee hour with someone that I had previously connected with online. I also met new friends through giving away or selling baby items.

Feeling connected and having conversations with adults throughout the day is so important for stay at home moms. It can turn one of the worst hours of your everyday life into a story you can later laugh at. There is insight, sympathy and suggestions for the tight spots. Most of all, there are hugs and warm words when you need them the most. The company is especially appreciated during the hours that everyone else is sleeping or at work. Our circumstances in our household have changed so erratically during the last couple years. I wouldn’t be able to smile and share this story without the support of our family and these wonderful friends.

Although we are busy throughout the day, it is so easy to pop on and chat for five minutes, making it less monotonous. Mommies need time out too sometimes. This holiday season brings a rush of shopping, programs, parties and baking. In the middle of all of the commotion, it is easy to feel alone. Take some time to talk to a friend, to be there for someone else. The holidays are made to enjoy family and friends, to be together. Reach out; share the love, there really IS life out there!

My heart goes out to some of my local mom friends who are mourning the loss of a friend this week. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

Christmas Time’s A Comin

A couple weeks before Thanksgiving, I was looking at the schedule, realizing how fast it was going to pass. Snow had begun to flirt with the holiday cheer and according to Caitlin, Christmas was near. Our schedule was booked. So, I booked buying a tree in the middle of that. In years past, we have spent fuel and money on a Christmas tree pass to go cut our own. This great tradition in Central Oregon produces some of the funniest, most interesting looking trees you’ve ever seen. Charlie Brown has nothing on the forest up past Sisters.

Before we had three kids, a mortgage payment and other expenses to worry about, going out to find a Christmas tree was all about getting out in the woods. I remember many years when my dad would fire up the beast (the 1986 Ford extended cab pickup) and take it out with my mom riding in the middle of the bench seat, to get a tree. The beast rests peacefully in our driveway this year with the crew cab. After a couple of sparse years, repeatedly burning fuel and funds we didn’t have, we decided that it was worth going to Big Lots to get a $20 fake tree. I had perused the ads for a month and figured that was the best bargain to date. Craigslist was a little discouraging in the tree department. I was still a couple of weeks off from NEEDING a tree, but I wanted to make sure it was taken care of. 

When we arrived at Big Lots to purchase our tree, the kids were exclaiming in glee at the displays.  They wanted one of everything. The selection of trees available only confirmed my expensive taste as I was drawn to the ones that cost the most. When we finally got to the $20 tree, we were a little put off. We circled the aisle again, re-evaluated our choice, and then decided that it was worth the effort. I figured that the staff didn’t share the same enthusiasm towards Christmas. Whoever set it up pry didn’t fluff the tree out right when they put it on display. It would look fine when I got it home and set up. We still had a week and a half until Thanksgiving. 

I got the tree home and set it up. A $20 fake tree is about the equivalent of the permit fee that they charge to cut your own tree. The ironic part is, it is just as Charlie Brown as the ones you cut down yourself. I had told Wayne that I knew I had enough stuff to fill it in. With some effort on my part, it would be okay.  I set out to accomplish my task using greens from the dollar tree that I had bought years ago for decoration. I added some garlands, too, that had a filling effect as well. I felt like it would suffice for Christmas after my additions to the tree.  Wayne was impressed with my effort. Finally satisfied, I had him put it in the garage, waiting for the day after Thanksgiving. 

Thanksgiving day, before we went over to join the rest of my family, I saw the best Craigslist posting ever: a nine foot tree from Costco, with lights not working. If you know Wayne, you know he can fix about anything. He always surprises me with his natural ability to make things work again. I kept thinking, “Oh, it’s only three feet taller than the tree we bought.” I was disappointed when I got the email that it was taken within the first few moments of being posted.  

The day after Thanksgiving, I was just thankful that I’d made our six foot tree fit. I was able to keep the bench that provides enough seating to have many people over comfortably. As I chatted with my mom, drinking my morning coffee, I received an email. It was from the people with the FREE Christmas tree. They wanted to know if we could we come pick it up. Pre-lit, from Costco, it was only three feet taller. I knew the quality had to be excellent. With sheer bliss, I told Wayne to answer his phone when they called to give directions. He was slightly irritated, being in the middle of a website upgrade, but still accommodating. I was kind of confused at why they were so eager to be rid of such a great tree. 

Being the good sport that he is, Wayne agreed to go pick it up. They had stated in the ad that you would need a truck or a van to pick up the tree. As he was leaving, I remember hearing some grumbling, because it was imperative that he pick it up NOW. I immediately messaged my mom, urgent with the need to share. After ten minutes or so, Wayne texted me to tell me that it would be a little big for our place. I took a quick glance at the bench, using it as a reference in size.  It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. We can just take the bench out, like I had planned before. 

A half an hour later, I heard the diesel pull up to the garage and went with glee to meet Wayne as the garage door opened. His expression was still a tad grumpy, but I chose to ignore it. I looked in the back of the truck and there were THREE big boxes! I was really impressed, because the boxes themselves were twice the size of the box our tree from Big Lots came from. We unloaded them into the garage and Wayne coolly passed by me and resumed his post at the computer. 

Feeling a bit elfish, I asked him if he was eager to set that bad boy up. He said no and ignored my excitement. He went back to what he was doing before he was so rudely interrupted. The kids, knowing that dad had gone to pick something up, ran into the garage. They immediately exclaimed “Dad brought home three Christmas trees!” Feeling rather proud of myself, I said “No kids THAT is ONE Christmas tree!” 

Unable to contain the enthusiasm, I broke open the box labeled base. I pulled out the bottom and with a great tug, it came loose. I handed it to Anthem to take into the house. It landed with a thud and she dragged it into the living room. Feeling boisterous by my big score, I decided to grab the bottom of the tree. It was a lot heavier than I realized and I kind of got a hint of why Wayne was so irritated. 

Dragging the bottom of the tree in to set up, Wayne politely ignored me at his computer desk. It was bulky, but I figured, eh, no big deal. It was wrapped up in a conical shape deceptive to its true girth. When I sat it down on the base, I realized WHY Wayne was politely ignoring me. It unfolded into six and a half feet diameter of a tree. It took up the whole living room space between the couch and entertainment center.  My eyes the size of saucers, all I could do is say “WOW”.  The warm feeling of a Christmas miracle began to flood through my spirit. 

Determined to see the tree in its full glory, I went about bringing out the next portion. I went to lift it out of the box and it was a lot heavier than the first part. Shocked, I drug it through the house and gave Wayne the pitiful “help me” look. Casually trying to ignore me, he couldn’t get away from it. That’s when he decided to show me the full effect of my ambitious intention. Ever so helpful, he put the rest of the tree together. It was as tall as the ceiling fan in our living room. You could barely squeeze past it by the couch in our living room. I sat in my chair with my laptop in awe of it. I laughed. Then I laughed even more. Wayne hid himself on the other side of the obnoxious tree, at his desk. He continued to ignore me as nicely as he could while I laughed uncontrollably.

My exuberance about the tree hit full peak. I called everyone I knew to tell them about the massive tree in the middle of our living room. It was the most beautiful fake tree I have ever seen. All put together, only half of the lights worked, but when the remote was on, it rotated too! The tree was so large we had to take out the bench that accommodated guests. It blocked the entire view from the kitchen to the living room. Every time I looked at it, I felt a bit like Clark Griswold. It was a sure sign it would be the best Christmas ever.  I laugh whenever I think about the tree. It reached the little kid in me. It felt like having the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree in the middle of my house. 

The joy of Christmas isn’t necessarily in the tree, or the presents that go under the tree. It’s about the time we spend together as a family. The hysterical story of the Swearingen Family Christmas tree will be one of my favorites for years. The tree did finally grow on Wayne. He had to endure hours of laughter as I sat and rejoiced in my marvelous find. He did remind me that he had the chance to email on the tree as well, but HE knew it wouldn’t fit.  The story of the extravagant gift given away for free is common during Christmas, but this year I will appreciate it so much more.

Investing in Success

A couple of months ago, I was so excited to share how our family was finally recovering from the recession. We had made it through losing a home, a business and living with my parents for a year to recover. The whole year was an amazing journey and beautiful story of how things finally started going right. Wayne had landed a job that quickly promoted him. We went through some music classes that ultimately led to him doing some sound stuff for concerts in Bend. We found a rental home that was perfect to start over in. My gardening took on a whole new level of success with hydroponics and worms.  In November, we were all going to go on Wayne’s health insurance through his work. It felt like we were finally back on track with our lives.  It felt like we could live and dream again.

Wayne and I used to joke that we started out in a full run at life together: got married on the fly, had a kid per year and moved three times.  Our family and our life developed so quickly, we didn’t have the time to build solid roots. It was in the resting and rebuilding time, living with my parents, that I felt we were able to establish those roots after establishing a family. During that journey, we had some of the best family and friends surrounding us, supporting us and cheering us on. They cried with us, they laughed with us and we even lived with some of them.  I felt like we came out of it even stronger than before.

In October of this year, Wayne came home early one day and told me he lost his job. It was so disappointing. However, after a whirlwind year of goodness, I knew the ability to dream and hope was still alive in me.  What I didn’t realize was that we were presented with the chance to walk out one of the most important times of our lives. The joy from the momentum of the beginning of the year would be meaningless if we didn’t continue to carry it through the rough spots.  This has been one of the most significant lessons of my life.

In the past, I preferred to hide from the issues.  I spent the days wishing the problems or situations away instead of dealing with them head on. I didn’t want to share with others or participate in their joy, because I felt so deprived of mine. It felt like we were failing in life. I would retreat into our house, turning off the phone, turning off the computer and not answering the door. For the sake of our pride we would put on a wary façade of making it when we did go out.

However, this time, it is different. I am surrounded by so many fresh reminders every day of how great our life is. We live in a wonderful home that I have fallen in love with every morning that we wake up in it. We live in a neighborhood that has become more than just houses, but alive with people that we love and share lives with. We have a family that is filled with people that are related by blood and others that are just as precious because of the things we’ve faced together. We have a love and a passion for life reflected by the vibrancy that we approach each day with.  I have enjoyed our children, our home and the time we get to spend together so much more this past year.

My husband has inspired me every day with his persistence. He works hard every day that he can, taking each job offered, to make things work. He hasn’t ever complained about any of the jobs handed to him. It would be easy to feel over-qualified and under-appreciated based on his previous experience, but instead, he comes home happy that he is still providing for our family. On the days that he is home, we’ve been able to enjoy and appreciate each other’s company.  He is such a good husband, a wonderful father and a faithful friend. He continues to build my admiration in him through his dedication to doing excellent work no matter what the task.

I feel like when we started appreciating the process of growth, instead of just waiting for the outcome or arrival, we truly began to value the most important pieces of our lives. Every friendship, every trial, every day, is just one more line in the story of who we are and were created to be. The time we invest in the people around us contributes to the success of that story. We’ve been so blessed by all of the people that have been willing to invest in us from past to present. Those seeds of faith we place in others through our daily contact, our friendships and our words, are so important.

It’s the time of year to be thankful and reflect on all of the blessings we’ve received. This year it is so special to me and it is my joy to appreciate every moment of it. Our family has grown through so many challenging seasons. As I look around, I see how beautiful our life is through each of them.  We haven’t really ever been rich according to what other people judge by, but we continue to grow rich in love and relationships.