It’s been a bit breezier here this week. A slight chill is in the air. Fall’s just around the corner. The annuals are looking worn and torn from the dry, summer heat. Our garden is still vibrant for late August, but plenty of plants are overgrown, beyond bloom, and in need of a hearty prune. The kids have their school supplies. My youngest received a letter from her preschool teacher. Nine days from now, we’ll be operating on a September budget, which will include hot lunches, cold lunches, field trips, and more school clothes and shoes. Yes, we’re in the final days of summer now. I can feel it. I can sense it. I know it in my bones.

When I looked through my photographs from the summer this past weekend, it alerted me that I hadn’t taken nearly enough summer photos of my children. Having taken photographs obsessively since I was 10 years old, there’s a certain threshold in my mind as far as when an occasion has been properly marked or NOT marked with photographs. This summer has NOT been standard by any means, nor has it been properly marked with photographs. This summer’s photographs show a lack of routine, instability, inconsistency paired with utter craziness. Where are the beach photos? Where are the sidewalk chalk photos? Where are the “I love gardening” photos? Where are the fun summer stuff photos? Where are the easy, breezy, airy photographs of kids without a care in the world?

If there’s one thing I’m reliably good for under any circumstance, it’s a photograph. I have my camera with me most all the time, only this summer was a little (lot) crazier than normal, a little (lot) more out-of-routine than normal. My photos reflected what was happening, but they didn’t necessarily reflect what I wanted my children to remember as they paged through the photo albums I need to catch up on someday soon. (Yes, I’m 4 1/2 years behind on those photo albums!)

This morning, two of my children played with a Fisher Price doll house while the third spent an hour or more organizing her school supplies and getting them packed in her backpack. It was a poignant moment, for sure, one that brought tears to my eyes when I stopped long enough to look.

Summer and school.

I love summer. It’s my favorite season by a landslide. I’m quick to admit to my husband (and hesitant to admit publicly) that I don’t love summer quite as much when it comes to being a mom. I’m torn. I don’t know. I love summer with kids. And I don’t love summer with kids. Part of me longs to treasure this time, these days with my kids while they’re little and somewhat-still little because I know there won’t be many more. But part of me sees the kids bored, longing for friends and routine, stimulation and more interesting things than me and my not-so-fun mom ideas. I’m the kind of mom who’d fully embrace a year-round school schedule with more frequent 2-3 week breaks throughout the year. I’m the kind of mom who’d thrive in a hot, dusty village with kids chasing balls, and moms gathering greens and cooking all day.

Yeah, I diverted a bit. Back on track now. Sorry about that!

So when I teared up over one kid organizing school supplies and two kids playing doll house, I knew I needed to do MORE to wrap up summer good and tidy in my tender heart.

This is the ONLY summer my children will be 4, 11 and 13 years old. There’s no getting this summer back. And it’s not lost on me that five years from now, my oldest will be IN college.

IN COLLEGE…

COLLEGE.

Sometimes this season of littles everywhere feels like forever. But it isn’t long.

I told the kids we were going to do some special things these last two weeks of summer. Some simple summer things. A day at the park. A day at the beach. A picnic. More time outside. Maybe ice cream one random afternoon. I don’t know.

So yes! The plan for today was picnic at the park, a special park we hadn’t gone to this summer. Because sometimes the simplest things in life are the best things.

I loaded the three kids in the car + 1 friend for my daughter. Heck, a good summer day’s never complete unless my oldest daughter brings a friend.

We drove 25 minutes to grab a bag full of sub sandwiches. Then we drove another 5 minutes to the biggest, grandest, most modern park in the area. We ate our subs and chomped on chips at a picnic table, and the kids played their hearts out for an hour, maybe more.

I followed the kids around the playground like only a good mom would, and carried my camera around like only a photographer would. Kids climbed ladders, spun in circles, glided across zip lines, spun in virtual spider webs, and hopped on giant ladybugs. Moms, nannies, child care providers and day camp leaders watched and followed children casually. It felt good. It felt right. It felt like summer. The kids were being kids. And I was being a mom. Just a mom. In summer.

There wasn’t anything glorious, super special or incredibly poignant about that picnic and trip to the park, but it was exactly what we needed.

A little more summer before school starts.

A few more photos to properly mark the occasion, “The Summer of 2016.” 

A few more moments together before those routines start back up again.

The 13 3/4 year old was the first to say he was ready to go.

The 11-year-old girls followed suit 10 minutes later. “We’re bored. We wanna go home now.”

The 4 year old was much more hesitant to leave the park. “NO! I wanna play more!” But after a while, she was ready to go home, too.

Nobody argued.

Nobody fought.

Everybody ready in their own due time.

As we left the park, my son even said “Thanks for bringing us to the park and getting us lunch, mom.”

This afternoon, he played XBox live with friends and is now outside playing with a neighbor boy. My 11-year-old daughter is playing with her friend. And our neighbor girl just rang the doorbell, asking if my 4-year-old daughter could come out and play. The doll house is out on the porch. There’s an empty water bottle blowing across the driveway. A bunch of boys played football in the neighbor’s yard. A little one rode by on his bike, another on a Hot Wheels. And that little neighbor girl who rang the doorbell? She called me “Maisie’s mother” and asked if I could raise my daughter’s bike seat.

It’s summer here for now.

Summer.

The days are long.

The days are getting shorter.

Can she use my bathroom “really quick?” Can they play water guns on my driveway? Can he balance on the retaining wall running through our garden? Can he ride her bike? Can she hang on your porch? Can they scream, shout and fight? Can they eat an applesauce from our pantry or a popsicle from the neighbor boy?

Yes. It’s summer.

School’s soon enough.

Do whatever you need to do to wrap up summer good and tidy in your tender heart.

Last summer, I received an email invite to go square dancing at Art House North, a community in Saint Paul launched and led by my favorite singer/songwriter, Sara Groves. I didn’t go, but wished I did. All reports suggested it was a grand time!

So this summer when I got the notice that Art House North was doing another night of square dancing, I thought twice. I kept the email in my inbox for a week or two, but ultimately deleted it because an out-of-town event was going to make it nearly impossible for me to go.

Just 24 hours before square dancing event, I received a Facebook message from an out-of-state friend I hadn’t seen or talked to in 18 months. “Hey! In case you have the night free, we’re hanging out at this on Tuesday night.” Attached was the square dancing flyer.

Perhaps I was supposed to go square dancing after all?

The next day, just one hour AFTER I’d arrived back home from the out-of-town event, just 55 minutes BEFORE the square dancing event was scheduled to start, my husband was already on his way home so I could travel 53 minutes one way to square dance.

This was as crazy as crazy gets.

Honestly, it seemed stupid. Square dancing? By myself? On a Tuesday night? After I just got home from a BIG out-of-town event? Yes, please?

I had no idea WHY I was doing this. But for some reason, I KNEW I was supposed to go square dancing!

Let me tell you. Square dancing was AWESOME!

It was the breath of fresh air I so desperately needed.

Here are the advantages of square dancing with strangers!

1. I don’t know WHY square dancing was invented, but it seems clear to me. Square dancing creates community!
2. Where else do you get an opportunity to hold hands with strangers and skip in circles?
3. People actually look you in the eye and smile for no reason.
4. Square dancing brings young and old together.
5. Promenade two by two? Who wouldn’t want to promenade?
6. Do-si-do? Who wouldn’t want to do-si-do?
7. Forget small talk! You’re dancing with people the whole time.
8. Somebody’s searching for a dancing partner just like you.
9. Square dancing types are easy to please. Forget Pinterest pretty. A plate of watermelon wedges, a tray of oatmeal chocolate chip bars, and a couple water jugs will do just fine.
10. Where else do you get a chance to run to the center of the circle, hop on one foot, and yell “Woo!?!”
11. People clap for you.
12. The strumming of the stringers is super chill.
13. You’ll find one old friend and a bunch of new friends among strangers.
14. You feel kind of geeky, but you totally don’t care.
15. At the end of the night, your hands will feel sticky and icky like they touched right about 10,000 hands. But you’ll wash with warm water and soap and count it all blessing.

Friends, I’m so excited to share some awesome news with you today! Let’s just say I’ve had a hard time keeping it to myself. I can barely contain the joy, so let’s get right to it!

When I went on the sponsor trip to Haiti with Compassion International last February, I met a 2-year-old boy named Charles. I wrote a blog post about my time with Charles and his mama. If you never read it the first time around, or need your memory jogged, now would be a great time to check it out (click here and the post will open in a separate window.)

I know some of you don’t have time to read the original post, so let me refresh your memory! I met two-year-old Charles and his mama at one of the Compassion projects we visited in Haiti. Charles’ mama shared her painful story with our group, and revealed that Charles had one leg. She was beyond grateful for Compassion’s Child Survival Program, as they have been a tremendous source of hope and support. Needless to say, I was deeply moved by Charles’ story. Later that morning, I had the opportunity to interact at length with Charles, his mama, a translator, and Compassion staff. By God’s pure grace, I was offered the opportunity to be Charles’ sponsor once he’s old enough to officially enroll in Compassion’s Child Development Sponsorship Program. I was, of course, delighted to say yes, and gathered all the necessary information to make the connection back home.

When I returned from Haiti, I spent nearly nine months trying to track down Charles. I wanted to do my part to keep the promise. So between February and October 2014, I called Compassion International’s hotline three times to see if there was a way to link Charles’ name with mine in the system. While Charles and his mama have been participating in Compassion’s Child Survival Program, Charles is not quite old enough to enroll in the Child Development Sponsorship Program, therefore, there has been no easy way to officially link our names.

Let me just say, after the first two phone calls to Compassion, I was beginning to realize it was going to take an act of God for this to happen. But I was determined to do my part and follow it through to an end.

During my third call to Compassion in October, I was advised to send an email detailing all the information I had so they could investigate the matter further.

I sent that email to Compassion on October 30.

Within a week, I received a personal phone call from a staff member at Compassion. She notified me that she was going to contact Compassion’s country office in Haiti, and would get someone on the ground to investigate the matter. The goal, to ensure Charles’ continued participation in the program and officially link his name to mine for sponsorship.

I was excited and hopeful, y’all. This was actually going to happen!

(So here’s where the story starts to get really cool.)

On November 18, 2014, a man named Antonio (aka Tony) posted a note on my blog’s Facebook page: “I would love to share my experience with your sponsored child Charles with you. Please contact me when you can.” That same night, I also found comments on my blog from Tony, one comment on the post I’d written about Charles, and another on a post I’d written about my love for Haiti.

Within four hours of the post to my wall, I was Facebook messaging Tony, this “random stranger” from Texas. Tony had just returned from a sponsor trip to Haiti with Compassion International on November 10-15. While he was there, he met and engaged extensively with Charles!

Within four days of the post to my wall, Tony and I agreed it would be awesome and much easier to chat on the phone about our sweet Charles. So we exchanged numbers and talked at length about our experiences. It was amazing. Simply amazing.

But friends, this isn’t the end of the good news! I saved the best news for last. Because it’s the biggest, most awesome and amazing of all!

Did you ever wonder how Tony tracked me down? How in the world did he know I had anything to do with Charles? I won’t bore you with the lengthy sequence of events Tony and I unpacked that ultimately connected us, but let me just say THIS WAS A PURE ACT OF GOD! There’s no way I would’ve ever connected with Tony and discovered these updates about Charles had it not been for God’s miraculous orchestration of events. Many hands were involved, friends. Many hands were involved. People followed the Spirit’s promptings, one after another, which ultimately led to me discovering and sharing the most AWESOME NEWS OF ALL with y’all today…

Our sweet Charles has a prosthetic leg! He’s well and joyful, and is moving about with relative ease! And his mama has a smile on her face that’s filled and overflowing with joy. I’m as tickled pink as I could be! For THIS is a miracle. This. is a miracle. Believe it, friends. Believe it when you see it.

This is an act of God, all the way around. He has worked. He has shown His glory. He has shown His great power and delight in bringing joy and healing to His children.

Today, a boy walks and dances.

Today, a mama beams joy.

Today, this mama sponsor beams joy, too, for she understands God’s sovereignty and goodness, even in our pain, even out of our darkest moments.

Today, a man in Texas understands the power of the Holy Spirit. Because he listened to the promptings in his heart and stopped to engage with a little boy in Haiti, we can begin to fathom the lengths to which God pursues us. Even when we aren’t aware, even when we don’t believe, He’s working. He’s sovereign. He’s in control. He’s got this.

It’s a miracle. Pure awesomeness.

 

 

 

Yesterday was #GivingTuesday. Perhaps you gave to the nonprofit of your choice. Perhaps you didn’t, but are moved by Charles’ story. Compassion International is funding a Child Survival Program for mamas and babies in India! Yesterday, Brianne McKoy wrote a lovely post about the opportunity to help fund this project. Check out her blog post and maybe, just maybe you’ll feel led to give. Because who wouldn’t want to be a part of this joy?! Or maybe you’ve always wanted to sponsor a child. Head right on over to Compassion’s website where hundreds of children are waiting for a sponsor.

July 30, 2014, marked Divine In The Daily’s two-year blogaversary! The day came and went without any fanfare, but I most certainly did not forget the occasion. After all, how could I forget the day I finally started getting all those words out of my head and onto the screen so they could be useful to someone besides me?!

So today, I want to step back and celebrate this blogaversary by honoring four special people who have been a tremendous blessing to me in regards to this blog – Brenda, Shalon, Monica, and Tom. From day one, these individuals were there to pray, support, encourage, and love. Better yet? They’re still hanging in there today, and I don’t see them hitting the road anytime soon. For that, I am so grateful.

Let me tell you more about each one of these beautiful people, may I?

BRENDA

I served on a board of directors with Brenda’s husband for three years, so I’d conversed with her on several occasions. We were very familiar with each other and enjoyed one another’s company, but never had that much time to chat at length. I respected and admired her fiercely as a wife, mother, and fellow human being. Let me tell you, Brenda is phenomenal. I will never, ever forget the way she’s blessed me and this blog.

On July 30, 2012, the day I launched the blog, Brenda called and left a message on my phone at 2:24 p.m. I will always remember the moment I listened to her voice mail, and have it saved on my phone to this day. I was at the beach with my kids, sitting on the sidelines watching them frolic on the shoreline. It was then that I heard Brenda’s words, “Read your blog posts on your new blog and I just had to call you. I am so blown away and impressed. I just wanted to chat with you about that for two or three minutes.” Needless to say, I called her back immediately, right there at the beach. After some conversation about my new blog and her new photography business, Brenda shared that she felt compelled to offer prayer for me and the blog. I obliged, of course. So there on the beach, a phone separating the two of us, we prayed for this blog.

Brenda is a pivotal person because she took a risk and stepped out of her comfort zone to cover this blog in prayer. She most definitely didn’t have to do it, but she did it anyway. And she continues to pop in to the blog to this day to show her ongoing love and support. Thank you, Brenda.

SHALON

My, oh my. Where should I start with sweet Shalon? In April 2012, I made the decision that I would be launching this blog, Divine In The Daily. The blog I began in January 2010 never really launched, so I knew I wanted to do this blog right from the start. With that in mind, I was certain of a few things. I wanted to hire a custom blog designer. I knew I wanted a ProPhoto Blog so I could have lots of options for beautiful photography on the site. And I needed to find someone whose design style complemented my personal style. Oh yeah, and I knew the designer would have to be patient with my perfectionistic tendencies. Fortunately, after hours of online research, I “met” Shalon!

Shalon is a blog and graphic designer at Pretty Lovely Design. I’ve worked with her for 28 months, and it’s been an incredible ride. Pretty much anything visual you see on my blog? Shalon designed it. Together, we’ve customized everything to my liking.

I was impressed with Shalon’s service from the beginning. She had me complete an extensive background form which detailed everything I wanted in the blog, down to minutia details such as fonts, accent colors, and white space between blog posts. Shalon has been ridiculously patient with me throughout the whole process. In fact, she’s been so patient and gracious with me that I can’t even begin to explain. But here’s one example – I made countless revisions to the blog header before the blog was launched in July 2012, and then in July 2013, she helped me redesign the header to fit the feel of the blog one year in. Shalon’s designed business cards and graphics for me, and has helped problem solve various technical problems on the blog as well.

I’m excited to work with Shalon in upcoming weeks. She’ll be updating my logo and business cards, will be creating Facebook and Twitter covers for the blog, and last but not least, she’ll design my #31Days graphic for 2014!

I’m pleased to call Shalon a pivotal person because she’s not only met my expectations, but has exceeded them in regards to all design aspects of this blog. I couldn’t be more pleased. Thank you, Shalon.

MONICA

Monica’s been a faithful reader of the blog since day one. She’s also one of twelve individuals on the Divine In The Daily prayer and support team. Words don’t adequately describe how important Monica has been to the life of this blog. May I suggest she’s been one of my blogging lifelines? I’m pretty sure Monica’s read most, if not all of the blog posts I’ve ever written. For that, I’m grateful. Because she knows and cares about my heart.

In the early days, when barely anybody was reading, Monica was there with a Facebook like or sweet comment on the blog. She’s the one that’s sent me Facebook messages and emails letting me know how much various posts have moved her personally. She’s one that’s encouraged me with texts when I’ve been discouraged. She’s the one who reminded me that one thoughtful comment has the potential to turn the blog into a space for rich, meaningful conversation, just the way I’ve always dreamed it could be. She’s the one I’d trust with the biggest and best news this blog’s ever had…before anyone else. She’s the one that knows what this blog means to me and how it fits into my life, and I’m pretty sure she’d do just about anything to show her support.

It’s my pleasure to call Monica a pivotal person in the life of this blog because she’s probably the most grace-filled, loyal and intuitive readers I’ve ever had. She makes me feel like my writing is worthy and worthwhile. Thank you, Monica.

TOM

Tom has been a faithful reader of my blog from the start. He’s also one of twelve on my prayer and support team. If I ever named a Godfather of this blog, it would most definitely be Tom.

Tom is the most loyal male reader of my blog besides my husband. Yes, as much as I want this blog to be for men as it is for women, my readership continues to be about 80% female. So having Tom’s predictable male presence is greatly appreciated and never, ever taken for granted.

Tom plays a similar role to Monica on this blog, only he’s male and is probably closer to my dad’s age than my age! As you might be able to tell, Tom and Monica have pretty much covered the bases for the life of this blog in regards to support, love and encouragement. When the blog was fresh and new, and only a handful of people were reading, Tom was there with his Facebook likes and encouraging comments. When I need a little humor, when I need a dose of reality, when I need encouragement, fact checking or history buffing, Tom’s my man. When I sent out an email to the prayer and support team with prayer requests last spring, Tom responded with insight and a prayer I needed more than anything. I’m not sure how he identified the most pressing prayer request of my life without me ever saying it, but he did. Not many people REALLY get me. Tom does. And I’ve only met him once.

For Tom and his unwavering presence, I am beyond grateful. I respect Tom immensely and pray he’ll never leave this place I call my own. Thank you, Tom. You have most definitely been a pivotal person in the life of this blog.

I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling the love today. Love’s all around. It’s my greatest desire for you to feel welcomed and known in this place. So please, make yourself comfortable here. Take off your shoes and stay for a while. Make this place yours as much as it is mine.

But before I go, there’s one more thing I want you to know…

There are so many more who I could’ve honored today. Heck, I could write a week’s worth of posts on all of you who have been supportive these past two years. Whether you’ve been around since week one or just discovered my blog last month, I’m happy and blessed to have you here. There’s one thing for sure. I wouldn’t be much of a writer without readers. So thank you for reading, thank you for responding, and thank you for engaging in this place. Your love and support has been tremendous. Your willingness to have fun, go deep, and be vulnerable has been incredible.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

With a grateful heart for the two years that have passed, let’s kick off year three! It’s going to be grand.

 

With the birth of each of our children, came a rebirth of me.

I worked full-time until the birth of our first child in 2002. It was then that I realized, for the first time in my life, that I might not want to be a full-time work outside of the home mama. My mom worked full-time her entire life, so I assumed I’d do the same. My husband and I had purchased a home, and hadn’t planned our finances around me staying home in any capacity. But I knew right away, as soon as our son was born – I didn’t want to work full-time anymore. I wanted to stay home more. I worked full-time for a year and a half after that first maternity leave. And then my husband got a raise, just enough for me to stay home one day a week, so I reduced my work to four days per week.

It felt just right. And I was grateful for more time with my baby boy.

With the birth of each of our children, came a rebirth of me.

I worked four days a week until the birth of our second child in 2005. After a 12-week maternity leave at home with our daughter, I returned to my four days a week position. I remained solid in that position for one more full year. My husband was deep in the trenches with his work, and just weeks before I’d found out I was pregnant with our daughter, our entire family began managing what would become six years of the worst of my sister’s mental health and addiction issues. Add my four day a week workload, and it felt like way too much. I knew something had to change. So I made a dramatic move. I took a formal leave of absence, and cut all the way back to one day per week of work. Working one day a week worked really well for two whole years. But then my leave came to an end and I was informed, given the shortage of professionals in my field, my employer needed me back, full-time. There were no part-time options, so I opted to resign and open my own private practice.

The time was right. And I was grateful as I’d always envisioned myself in private practice somewhere along the way anyway.

With the birth of each of our children, came a rebirth of me.

I started and maintained my private practice, working 2-3 days per week, until the birth of our third child, another baby girl in 2011. At this point, we’d been through a lot. I’d been through a lot. We’d spent years managing unbelievable trauma and drama with my sister, she’d had a baby, and things had finally stabilized to the point they were manageable. For years, it seemed there was no way we could add another baby to the picture, but I didn’t feel “done” having kids and our biological clocks were ticking. So we thought hard and prayed hard. The answer was yes. It was indeed time for another baby. After I returned from maternity leave in March 2012, I continued seeing patients two days a week, and did everything else that needed to be done for the private practice when I could fit it in. (And for the most part, that remains true today.)

But things were different this third time around.

You see, after all those years of trauma and drama, after all those years of waiting, I realized what a gift we had in our baby girl. I knew and had a strong sense, for the first time in my life, that if God blessed me so richly with this baby girl, maybe He had other beautiful plans for me, maybe there were other things I was supposed to do that would fulfill me as richly and as deeply as this baby girl? Maybe He’d planned beauty from all this pain?

So I picked up the bits and pieces of a dream that had been building since the birth of our baby boy in 2002.

I’d just returned from maternity leave, and baby girl was only three-months-old. I knew it was kind of crazy, this starting something new and big when I’d just had a baby and was trying to adjust to work, again, as mama of three. Baby was still a baby, I had two other little ones, and my husband had begun a big corporate job. But God called anyway, it’s time.

So in April 2012, after seeking wise counsel, I decided, it was time to launch this blog. In-between work and dance class and baseball and changing diapers and everything else, I worked my butt off getting ready to launch this thing.

In July 2012, I launched the blog. It was no small thing as far as I was concerned. The blog was important to me, and I valued it immeasurably. It was part of a dream I’d been visioning, at that time, for nine years already.

So that brings me to today, to this post.

I’ve decided to take a three week break from blogging.

Because I know, with the birth of each of our children, comes a rebirth of me.

And while I’ve without a doubt been working towards that rebirth of me, it hasn’t happened yet.

I’ve known, for 19 months, that it’s time for rebirth. But my rebirth is different this time. It’s not just a matter of making a few adjustments and I’ll be good to go.

It’s a matter of handing my life over to God and saying – what would you have me do next?

It’s a matter of deciding – am I going to continue thinking I’m all in, or am I actually going to live all in?

It’s a matter of believing and trusting, truly following this Jesus I say I believe in.

So I’m sitting in this boat. Jesus is smiling so slightly with his gentle, gracious and patient spirit. He’s looking at me. He’s waiting. He says “give me an hour, and I’ll change your life.”

And I’m here, still deciding if I’m going to give him “this hour.” Am I ready to give it to Him, or not?

And you, my readers? You’ve found me here, in this in-between place, in this moment of deciding what’s next.

In this in-between place, in this moment of deciding, I’ll be doing practical things, logistical things, and hard things.

What are the practical things? I’ll be attending my nephew’s baptism, celebrating my daughter’s golden birthday, and spending a week with my kids during their spring break. Just as important, I’m desperate to keep my promise and call my friend, Denise, with whom I haven’t chatted for way too long.

What are the logistical things? If time allows, I’ll be updating my Meet Amy and Blog Vision pages on the blog. I’ll also be working on finalizing plans for my second annual Special Mamas series in May.

What are the hard things? I’ll be spending time in reflection and praying, hard. I’ll be reading scripture and books, reviewing old diaries, journals, and blog posts. I’d like to spend some time journaling, without editing, without an audience, to better discern what’s next. And I’m seeking wise counsel, because I can’t do this alone.

Oh ya, I might open that bottle of champagne that’s been sitting in the fridge since December 6th, and enjoy it with my husband some night. 🙂

Thank you for understanding, thank you for reading today and any other day you’ve read in the past, and know I’ll be back.

As of now, I plan to return to the blog on Wednesday, April 9th, but if I need more time, I’ll take it.

If you’re new to the site, or haven’t had a chance to read as many of my posts as you’d like, I recommend reading the two series that reflect my writing and heart best to-date, Letters to the Unthanked and Journey to Haiti. If you’d like to contact me for any reason while I’m gone, please don’t hesitate! All of my contact information can be found on the Connect page on my blog.

Blessings to you all.

Amy

“I’m thinking a mid-life crisis is not so much a crisis as it is an awakening. Either you’re upset where you’ve landed and you perceive you’re stuck there for the rest of your life, or you’re wide awake and ready to use your wisdom to launch you into an even better second half. I strive to be the latter.”

Post from my personal Facebook page – May 25, 2013