Been thinking a lot about the holiday that doesn’t exist here. Been thinking about the pumpkin carving, the apple cider, the princesses, cowboys, and adorable outfits that will be adorned tonight.
Been thinking about the caramel apples, popcorn balls, toothbrushes, and millions upon millions of pounds of candy that will be distributed.
“Eat your peas! Don’t you know there are starving children in Africa?” Familiar. Mom and dad drama dealt to the picky child in hopes to coax another mouthful or two off their dinner plate.
And then we grow up. And OH MY we realize…there ARE starving children in Africa. Continue reading
#TBT. Such a creative concept. We all love seeing our friends’ photos from the 80s with big bangs or our high school prom pictures resurrected The more I marinated on this concept it made me realize I would like to start digging up some of my most favorite blogs. They are not quite vintage but old enough that I am needing reminders of their message. (Today I assumed the worst about someone and it got ugly!) I realized I might have even written a blog about such matters? And thus the concept of ThrowBackBlogs was birthed.
So You’re Mad at Me, I’m Lazy, and My Kids are Rude?
A dear friend of mine recently spent time with one of my favorite people on the planet…my therapist. Paula characterized my friend’s outlook on life by simply saying: “You are a negative framer.” Negative Framer, hmmm, the words settled deep. It seemed all too familiar. I realized in that moment, I myself was a recovering negative framer. Continue reading
I am tired of telling sad stories. Though at times therapeutic, telling your story makes it real, concrete, and final.
Recently, Grief has knocked heavily upon my door. She has been a constant visitor and one I have shrugged off for almost a year. Strength has been my best friend. She has cheered me and journeyed with me each step of this Epic Adventure. Grief was not welcomed or wanted. Nor did I have any time to entertain her. There were children to bathe, clothes and dishes to wash (by hand mind you)–and there were stories to be read and boo boos to kiss. I kept Grief at bay. Even at the “end” of our journey with our Ugandan kiddos…(if you missed that chapter you can learn more about it here)…Grief was not invited to the party because Hope had made her way to the forefront of the story line. Hope was carrying a banner waving, “Justice.” Her message comforted me. But a few weeks ago Heartbreak and Sorrow delivered a message of gut-wrenching proportion. They said that the two little ones we thought we protected and placed into good hands were actually taken back by Evil hands…ones not to be trusted. Trafficking hands that were protected by the police and bribery and social status. Reunification failed. Corruption, culture, and paternal biological “rights” all took precedence over the lives of precious little ones I love.
100 Cups has been a bit on the heavy side lately. Some might be thinking, “get over it already…figure it out…this is depressing…give me some good news or something happy to read.” Others have navigated these deep waters, get it, and know this is a healing, therapeutic platform. The subject (however unhappy) effects us all at one point or another. No one is immune to suffering; and therefore I find it crucial to share.
This blog is all-inclusive. For those who are currently walking through hard things…this is for you. For those who have loved ones enduring hardship…this is for you. For those who have walked alongside our family–this is a sincere thank you for loving us so well with just the right words and actions! Continue reading
When an author writes a book she typically has a story to tell, but also has already journeyed down a certain path, turned the proverbial corner, and she is writing her story in the past tense. The author then is able to insert insight, humorous antidotes, and wisdom gleaned from her bumps and bruises. The book, if well-written, is polished, clean, and read-able. It gives the page-turner a distinct joy having been a part of a shared experience.
Blogs are messy. The author does not have the luxury of knowing the “end” of the story. He or she typically writes as the story as it is unraveling…and as in life…there is no guarantee the story will end well. The author does not have weeks, months, or years to reflect on the story. Uniquely blogs are happening in real time and so the reader is actually given the opportunity to process along with the writer…forming his or her own conclusions. Celebrating and grieving with the author.
100 Cups of Coffee 