Huckleberry & Lime

More Than a Necklace {Noonday Collection Giveaway}

2014-08-18T08:30:00.000-04:00

Welcome aboard the Noonday Blog Train! If you are riding along and came from Mattie's, I'm so glad you're here.

It's been about four months since I started as a Noonday Ambassador. Although this investment was a tad impulsive in nature, the journey actually started 3 years ago in Ndola, Zambia. It was during my time there that my heart was turned toward the distinction of charity versus education and self-reliance. It was then that I realized that well intended charity can sometimes cause more harm than good.

Noonday Collection uses fashion and design to create economic for the vulnerable. But what does that mean? What does it look like? What exactly IS Noonday?

Noonday is expanding the marketplace for talented artisans and craftsmen.

Noonday is bringing women together to use our purchasing power for something outside of ourselves.

Noonday is advocating for women's rights in the workplace.

Noonday is rebuilding lives after the destruction of a natural disaster.

Noonday is providing dignified jobs and futures lived in the light.

Noonday is allowing women that are HIV+ to purchase their medication and keeping their families together.

Tigiest from Noonday Collection on Vimeo.

Noonday is empowering the shamed and outcast.

Noonday is writing stories of transformation for survivors of genocide.

Noonday is relieving the financial burden of adoption through Fundraising Trunk Shows.

Noonday is helping adults with special needs find independence

Noonday is creating reliable, sustainable work that allows parents to pay for education, food, shelter and healthcare.

Noonday is more than a necklace.

Enter to win a $25 Gift Certificate to shop online so you can wear their stories! Ambassadors have linked arms (and blogs) to share our favorite pieces, artisan stories, and giveaways this month in a blog train! You can enter Friday's giveaway HERE and there is another giveaway on Tonight's HERE!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Three.

2014-05-29T12:30:00.000-04:00

Today is our 3rd Anniversary.

After our wedding, I took the cards with the vows that we wrote to each other, a little worn, a tear drop smudge on mine, and framed them. They hang on the wall of our room, in a shadow box with the dragonfly pin that was on my bouquet.

I remember toiling over the words that I would write to him, the perfect words that would capture the giddy excitement, the agape love that we shared, and the fear of how we would face the unknown.

I remember holding his hands at the alter, distracted by the lip gloss stain on his suit that I had left after kissing his shoulder when I finally reached him. We were both a little shaky and anxious to hear what the other had written. He went first...

Katelin,
I love you. Your smile, your laugh, the love you have for life, and the light you shine on me every day; there are not enough words to say how thankful and how blessed I am. With this covenant, from this day, until the day I leave this world, I vow to love you with everything that I am, to be the man and the husband that I am mean to be. I will love, honor, encourage, and inspire you. I will listen, I will hear, I will shower you with affection. I will love you on the good days, and love you double on all the others. I promise to be your best friend, your one true companion. Here, I give myself to you, you and no other. Mind. Body. Soul. Forever, Katelin. I am yours.

and then me...

David James,
I promise and covenant, before God and our family and friends, to walk alongside of you as we build this life together. To share in all that God has in store for us. To cherish you and set you apart, to be faithful and true to you, always. To love you in weakness as much as in strength. I promise to gently care for your heart and your mind and give you a firm place to stand. To face moments of despair as fearlessly as moments of success. And most of all, I promise to uplift and support you in becoming everything God created you to be. I will love you with all of my heart, body and soul, every day as long as we both shall live.

I treasure these words and I'm so glad that we decided to write our own vows. I think one of the biggest challenges and blessings that marriage brings is the need for vulnerability, that invitation for someone to see those innermost parts of us and trusting one another to handle our fragile spirits delicately. I love that we started our marriage with vulnerability and openness.

Thank you, David James, for your words. For sharing and living them out every day. I love you, for all my days, no matter what.

Noonday Collection: An Exciting Announcement!

2014-04-18T18:24:00.001-04:00

I have some exciting news to share. I've recently joined an incredible company called Noonday Collection. Here's an excerpt about their mission:

"Noonday Collection uses fashion and design to create economic opportunity for the vulnerable. We offer stylish accessories of uncommon value handcrafted by artisans from around the world who receive a fair, living wage for their work. Many of the artisans come from destitute situations and purchases enable them to provide for life’s basic necessities. Through fun trunk shows and an inspired social selling team of ambassadors, we are enabling women to join our story...What is more? A portion of the profits of sales will help place an orphan in a forever family."

I feel inspired and empowered by these women and artisans around the world that now have an income to provide for their families and hope for that future. I'm grateful to the opportunity to contribute to this movement.

Noonday is not a charity. It is not a a multi-level direct sales company that has financial benefits for recruiting a team. The more we sell, the more we can buy from artisans from Ethiopia, Uganda, Rwanda, India, Ecaudor, Peru, Guatemala, Vietnam and Refugee Co-Ops in the US. It's about dignified job creation, advocacy for the oppressed, and telling the stories of the vulnerable.

Have you heard the phrase, "Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime"? I believe that there is a right and wrong way to help our brothers and sisters in need. When we simply send money, or pay to go on short term mission trips, we create a mentality of reliance on our handouts, and helplessness, and destitution to those we want to support. So much of developing country poverty is based on education and sustainable income. When we train and teach skills in that same population, they feel empowered to provide for their families. Think of the pride that you feel when you earn your paycheck and can pay for the things you need and want. That's what we want to instill in people like Jalia, and Embemebet, and Sidhama, and Carlos, and Astrida. That is why I'm an Ambassador.

Do you want to join me?

Host a Trunk Show and invite your friends to use their purchasing power to change the lives of these incredible artisans. Listen to their stories and know that you are making a difference. You can also choose to host a trunk show that is a fundraiser for an adopting family. Noonday Collection started as an International Adoption fundraiser. I'd love to tell you more about how you can help your adopting friends and family.

You can also shop online. I always remember that every piece of hand-crafted jewelry, every scarf, every accessory sold is fair and dignified income for families in need of food, healthcare and education.

I want to thank you in advance for your support. The mission and vision of Noonday means a lot to me, and I'm really excited to start contributing. Leave a comment and include your email if you're interested in hosting a show!

Happy Easter to you and yours.

Words From My College Apartment

2014-01-27T21:02:00.000-05:00

I was going through an old Gmail account and found some old pieces from a Poetry 101 class at JMU. I've written previously about the peace that I've found in putting creativity down on paper, so I thought I would share some of that with you...

Self-Portrait as a Painting

If I was a painting,
Frozen on glossy eggshell white,
Dulled and muted by gallery light,
How much would you pay for me?

Eyes of green olives,
And skin, thirsty sand,
The bending strokes of my body blended with imperfection.
Hang me above your mahogany bed.

In the silence of a soaking rain,
Dress turned transparent, my hair, a jungle-gym slide,
Arms outstretched and reaching.
I’ll tell you about how I used to dance.

And in the still
Of your companionless room,
A twinkling piano will play
And you’ll wish I was
More than just a picture you bought.

Lost Boy

A Sestina

This blue eyed boy waddles forward
Down the beach, as concerned parents watch.
His lonesome footprints so tiny carve stairs

In the sand. He’s gone adrift
Like the jellyfish, lying dead, a pink balloon
Deflated. He pokes at it curiously with his finger.

Sandy and wet, he slowly brings the slimed finger
To his nose, inhales, and continues forward
Along the shore, long with towels like a hot air balloon.
Not concerned that he’s alone, he looks up to watch
An airplane. It’s droning roar floating as drift-

Wood on a wave. He makes his way down tide-made stairs.

Spying on Pop-pop

He’s reading in his vanilla ice cream chair.
(That’s what I call it, I’m seven.)
His tortoise-shell glasses perched on the tip of his nose,
While Doublemint bubbles expand and crack.
He hums along to Kenny Loggins,
His voice swallowing the melody
That sweeps the house like a warm southern wind.
Dinner’s almost ready.
The butter shushes angrily as Nana slices it into the saucepan.
Startled, he looks up from his book; I’m caught.
“KateyBaby!” He welcomes me onto his knee,
and quickly I must leave
my fortress of dolls and bears
To climb up to him.
He asks for a concert from his world famous flutist or
Maybe just a song from choir, only a verse.

I don’t play anymore, my flute
Collects dust like his picture on the table.
But I can still sing.

Tell me what to sing,

and I'll sing it.

I miss seeing and thinking about the world this way. I'm going to start dedicating more time to being still and sharing the words that come from that silence. Other writers out there, what prompts you to pull out a pen and notepad, or a napkin, or glowing screen?

A Word for 2014: Enough

2014-01-09T23:35:00.004-05:00

I'm sitting at the local Barnes & Noble, waiting for my skinny carmel macchiato to cool, and listening to a woman learn to speak Italian as she stumbles through verb conjugation with her tudor-friend. And frankly, I'm regretting wearing these ankle-bearing flats, because this window is freaking drafty. It's been a while since I've stared at this blank screen, knowing I have things to say, but doubting that I'm saying them the right way. I relate to this woman next to me, as I write and rewrite this continuing story. I ask for the same grace her friend patiently gives to her because it's about to get real vulnerable up in here...

...These past few days since New Years have been really reflective and cathartic for me. I closed 2013 with a hard heart. I remember displaying all of the Christmas cards that we received from our friends and family and feeling like I had nothing to show or tell about the past 365 days. Certainly, it was a year in the in-between. No life milestones met, no promotions or new passport stamps. Scrolling through Instagram and Facebook filled me with bitterness and caused me to believe that my life wasn't enough. That I wasn't enough.

I was reading through my previous post after six months, and while I still believe that there is truth to those words, they were also really telling of where I was in my life at the time. I hadn't been to church in I don't know how long, I wasn't spending time in God's Word, I wasn't serving in any way, I wasn't worshipping with anyone or spending time in devoted prayer. No wonder I had become a cynic! I still believed in Jesus, but there was such a void in my spirit that I couldn't make out any light in the world or in myself. I wrote and spoke words that made me sound like God and I were BFFs, but those were things I thought I should be writing and saying. But it wasn't real life. So, after a lot of mom - talks, and anxious hours trying to sleep, it occurred to me that I had trained my heart to doubt that God really had a plan to give me hope and a future. I had a deep fear for what my future looked like. I didn't trust Him.

I read Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts last year. I read it, admired her lyrical writing and her ability to empathize with the reader, and when I finished it, I set it on my bedside table, where it collected dust until January 1st, 2014. There was something different this time. All at once, I knew that the reason my year felt like a complete waste was because I had been filling it thinking about all that my life wasn't, rather than looking up and seeing God's constant love and grace at work. I wasn't letting myself see the good.

My whole life, I've struggled with not feeling like I was enough. The things I accomplished weren't enough, my broken body wasn't enough, my personality and all my quirks weren't enough. I couldn't love myself because all of these things added up to a person who had been measured and found wanting. Despite the love of my parents, my family, my friends and my husband, I continued to tell myself that I was unloveable. And after growing up in youth group, being on the CRU drama team at JMU, and being a youth leader, I am just now realizing that people like me are God's specialty. This is what He lives for...and ultimately, what Jesus died for. I finally get it. I am enough because Jesus and his grace is enough. Every day, He fills in my holes with his holiness. With his wholeness.

In doing a some research, I came across Judah Smith, who is a Pastor at City Church in Seattle (although he sounds like he came straight from the Bible-Belt south). If you're looking for a guy who gets grace, I recommend you give this sermon a listen. Trust me on this one...

I have a lot of soul work to do this year, rebuilding this heart of mine. I know it takes time for the snow and ice to melt. I know I tend to impulsively jump into things and then give up after a while. I don't want to give up on this. He never gives up on me. I want that light to come back. I know it will. And when the dark comes, I'm gonna break out my handy dandy headlamp until the sun comes up.

Ok...This crappily insulated window is turning my feet blue and I'm getting the "When will you insomniac-hipsters just go home" eye from the barista. Hubby got me some mountain man socks for Christmas and they are calling my name!

Cheers.

A Statement of Faith and a Challenge for the Church

2013-07-29T23:02:00.001-04:00

This post is in response and support of this article, written on cnn.com:

I think it's time that I confess something, and it may come as a surprise to some of you. I haven't been to church in a really, really long time. And while there are some things that my heart continues to long for; worshipping and praising God with other people, seeing children grasp that they are loved by the Creator of this earth, and building relationships with fellow believers, there are also experiences that I've had with churches I've attended that have left me feeling even more broken and ashamed and confused than ever before. I'd like the share those stories, but first I want to tell you what I believe:

I believe that God knew me and my inner most thoughts before I was a thought in my parents' mind. That my life, my choices, my celebrations and my sorrows are important and cherished by Him.

I believe that God knows, loves and cherishes e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e, no matter what. This isn't a get out of jail free card, but there are no exclusions or limits to God's pursuit of us.

I believe that God felt pain and suffering when He allowed Jesus to be crucified, just as any father would. I believe that Jesus experienced the emptiness of separation from God in hell, and that he proved that he rose from the dead and ascended into heaven.

I believe that God created the Earth, but I am not clear about when, or how long it took. I believe that He is the designer of evolution and science and therefore, they can all work together.

I believe that God uses people, whether that be family, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, partners, children to show us His love in a way that we see and feel. I don't believe that we have the right to condemn how that love is given or received.

I believe that when we are born, we are imperfect, but never wretched or filled with sin. I believe that pounding those thoughts into a child's heart and mind is more detrimental and damaging than people realize. It is possible to be good without believing in God (although, you're missing out some pretty overwhelming love).

I believe that God gave us free will so that we could make mistakes, and take ownership of learning from and taking value from those experiences. I also think that God gave us free will so that we can think for ourselves and wrestle with our faith and our doubt.

I believe in God's constant forgiveness, when we ask for it. How do we learn from our mistakes, if we don't own them, apologize and make changes?

I believe in the power of prayer and the impact of maintaining my relationship with God through both reaching out and being still to listen.

I believe that God hates religion. I think that rules and regulations become the very idol that He asks us to denounce, because they get in the way of the real relationship that He is waiting to have with us.

I do not believe that God gave me Diabetes. God does not inflict suffering and pain on us. We are broken people, and that can sometimes manifest physically. In the same vein, our brokenness can sometimes result in terrible things happening to innocent people. He is there, feeling our pain with us, through it all. He is there through our anger and confusion and fear, and He is there when we find hope.

So if I believe all of this, why am I not going to church? I want to point back to Rachel Held Evan's article where she says,

"Armed with the latest surveys, along with personal testimonies from friends and readers, I explain how young adults perceive evangelical Christianity to be too political, too exclusive, old-fashioned, unconcerned with social justice and hostile to lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people.

I point to research that shows young evangelicals often feel they have to choose between their intellectual integrity and their faith, between science and Christianity, between compassion and holiness.

I talk about how the evangelical obsession with sex can make Christian living seem like little more than sticking to a list of rules, and how millennials long for faith communities in which they are safe asking tough questions and wrestling with doubt."

I'll have what she's having...

A few months ago, I went to a church service with a friend. This particular church is filled with guys and girls my age and their 34,589,903 children. I was looking forward to reconnecting with people I hadn't seen in a while and worshipping along with their renown praise band. Everything was great, until the pastor got up to speak, and I realized the topic on the table was one I'd heard about a thousand times before. Sexual immorality. Over and over again he told this congregation-held-captive that premarital sex was shameful. That homosexuality was disgusting. That there was no room for gay people in church, but there were people down front who can pray it away for you. By the end, I was sweating, my heart pounding, hoping that there wasn't anyone in the room who was gay or who was questioning if they were gay, just so they didn't have to feel this awful and pointed hatred. I wanted to ask that pastor one very simple question. "Who do you think you are?"

Who are we, that we feel we have the authority to pass that kind of condemnation on fellow human beings? We spend so much time pointing out each others' faults with white knuckles, that we completely miss the whole point: Love. Grace. More Love. How's that plank feeling?

I visited a church with a friend and her family. The pastor stood in front of his congregation and said, "I don't understand why anyone would need to see a counselor if they have Jesus." So what happens, if there is a person in that room who is dealing with a serious chemical imbalance, or suicidal thoughts. What happens if that person is trying to work on these things with a therapist, and that relationship is the only thing that's keeping him from making it all go away? What happens if that person has never been to church before and now also feels bad about seeing his therapist, but he has no idea who Jesus is? How do you think this is going to play out?

When I first got married, I remember having a really hard time transitioning from the constant negativity around anything sexual that I heard growing up in my youth group, to all of the sudden being free as a bird. As a young, high school girl, it felt as though our one and only goal was to be "the bride who wore white." Needless to say, this very drastic change in mentality because of a 20 minute ceremony, a signed piece of paper and a party was jarring. I don't want to get into anything too specific here, but I often question whether premarital sex is really as black and white as some make it out to be. In some gray circumstances, can waiting actually be more damaging to the relationship? What is the Bible's definition of marriage? What did Adam and Eve's wedding look like? Who signed their marriage certificate?

I guess the point of this post is that I really want to feel safe going to church. I want my friends who might not believe the same things I do to feel safe going to my church with me. I want to find out how natural history and God's omniscience and sovereignty coincide. I want to learn and grow and not feel like I'm part of some cheesy infomercial. If I wanted to see a concert, I would buy a ticket. If I wanted to cry my eyes out, I would watch Marley and Me. If I wanted to feel really bad about myself and the world around me, I would stop taking my medication. Enough is enough.

Rachel says this better than I ever could,

"We want to be challenged to live lives of holiness, not only when it comes to sex, but also when it comes to living simply, caring for the poor and oppressed, pursuing reconciliation, engaging in creation care and becoming peacemakers.

You can’t hand us a latte and then go about business as usual and expect us to stick around. We’re not leaving the church because we don’t find the cool factor there; we’re leaving the church because we don’t find Jesus there."

I haven't lost Jesus. My faith flame has not burned out. I have hope that I'll find a place where my soul can rest. Until then...

Amen.

A Remedy for Spirit Concussions

2013-07-12T12:00:00.000-04:00

It's been a tough couple of weeks. You know the kind where you just want to throw your hands up and yell into the infinite abyss, "Enough! Enough, already!" I feel bruised and shaken and I keep wanting to write about it, but then it turns into this Dementor-like pity party, and that's not what I want this space to be.

So instead, I'm going to fill it with things that I'm thankful for. Gratitude seems to be the perfect medicine for spirit concussions. And I'm not talking about slapping a band-aid on what we are feeling and skipping way with a daisy in hand. No. I'm talking about owning what we're feeling, digging deep, reeling in the truth if it's a little foggy, and moving on with a thankful heart and a plan for progress. There is a time a sit in the dark, and then there is time to look up and feel the sun on your face.

Today, I'm thankful for:

Friends, who not only listen, but want to come into my space and sit with me.
Friends who let me snug with their sweet babies while we wait for our own.
Time spent reading poetry with my Nana on her screened in porch.
The opportunity to watch my cousins grow and develop into some genuinely cool people who are going to make this world a better place.
Long and intentional hugs from David when I walk in the door.
The safety and sanctity that comes with being married to an honorable, encouraging, and compassionate man.
This phase of my life, where I am finally discovering just who I am and the sound of my own voice.
The people who have helped me and empowered me to get to this place.
The summer oasis of my parent's backyard.
The feeling of the first sip of ice-cold sangria.
This kid...

What are you thankful for today?

So What Wednesday

2013-07-03T14:30:00.000-04:00

This week I'm saying SO WHAT if:

Keeping my little Diabetes Monster green and happy on the "mySugr" app is the only thing that has helped me to log my blood sugars, ever in my whole life. It's like a Diabetes Giga-Pet. (When I was 10, I may or may not have stayed up all night the first night I had my very own monkey to make sure he had enough bananas and didn't wet the bed (that I constructed from a decorated box) and die.

I refuse to wash dishes. I will clean anything in the house, but I can't bring myself to use sponges that smell like soaking death.
Deciding on paint colors gives me full blown anxiety. I love decorating, but trying to decide between painting the bathroom walls and leaving the vanity white, or painting the walls white and painting the vanity some swanky, Apartment Therapy- worthy color is making me want to revert to thumb sucking.
Candy Crush makes me feel hopeless. How the heck to people get to level 350, when I will never, ever beat level 30?
Yesterday, I was this close to buying $11 Little Hip Squeaks headbands for a baby girl that I do not have...probably a good thing they sold out, as it would have sealed the deal that I will have all boys.
I think I might like Blog Lovin' more than Google Reader.
I got through 80% of Dragonfly in Amber and had to stop. They lost me as soon as they got into 18th Century Highland battle strategy. My mom reminded me that there is power in not finishing a boring book, although I do feel a twinge of guilt. So long, Jamie Frazer. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

What are YOU saying "So What" to this week?

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Lessons Learned from "The Voice"

2013-06-11T17:30:00.000-04:00

Have you been watching "The Voice" this season? It's the best one yet, somewhat because I don't have to see Christina's overly spray-tanned ta-tas spilling out of her dress, but mostly because of this girl and her coach, Usher. Michelle Chamuel has been my favorite artist from day one solely because of the fact that from the beginning, she has never wavered from expressing exactly who she is, no matter what. Her look, her poise, her courage, and her pureness of heart has not changed by being in the public eye. And girlfriend can sing:

Last night, after her second performance, Usher left her with these words, "You are medicine to the world."

I think I would have just sat down on the stage and cried if anyone said that to me, let alone Usher freaking Raymond. What an incredible thing to say to someone! That the way they live their life brings healing to those who hurt, gives strength to those who are beaten down, and gives hope for a better day. It made me stop, grab a Kleenex, and ask myself, "who am I healing today?"

I think in the midst of the chaos of our busy lives and going from one thing to the next, we lose sight of the fact that every day is an opportunity. An opportunity to show someone hope, love and grace that might not otherwise know what those words mean. Let's face it. We all need healing in some way or another. There isn't a single person out there that isn't fighting a hard battle. And so often we don't let others into our fight because of shame or fear of rejection. It's a two way street. We need to be aware that people around us need healing, and we also need to allow others to help us heal.

During our trip to Boca Raton, I watched one of my favorite movies, "Chocolat," for probably the eleventh time. The final scene is such a source of rejuvenation for me, and it sums up my prayer for change (watch here):

I'm not sure what the theme of my homily today ought to be. Do I want to speak of the miracle of Our Lord's divine transformation? Not really, no. I don't want to talk about His divinity. I'd rather talk about His humanity. I mean, you know, how He lived His life, here on Earth. His kindness, His tolerance... Listen, here's what I think. I think that we can't go around measuring our goodness by what we don't do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think, we've got to measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create, and who we include.

While I know that goodness isn't everything and that goodness isn't effective without faith, I also know that we are missing something critical about genuinely caring for each other as human beings. I have been so encouraged by Michelle and Usher's partnership and subtle examples of love and celebration of self. It reminds me that there is hope, and hope is medicine enough for me.

Two Years Later...

2013-06-07T15:52:00.000-04:00

I must apologize for the break in writing. The reason being, the brand new digs! I'm so excited to share the new look of Huckleberry & Lime! Major thanks to my beautiful and incredibly talented friend, Amanda Tobin, for simplifying and refreshing this little space and making it feel more like home.

Last week, Dave and I celebrated our 2nd Anniversary with a trip to Boca Raton, Florida (feel free to scroll through the wedding post and the 1st Anniversary post). My sweet Nana has a little condo there, that she let us take over for the week, so we only had to pay for airfare and food. Budget-friendly vacay? Check. We had 2 sunny days and the surf was too rough to swim, so we spent a lot of time at the community pool and reading on the screened in porch, listening to the rain spray on the palm fronds. By the way, I'm slightly addicted to Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series. Historical fiction. Riveting suspense. Not to mention a kilt-wearing, sword-swinging, Gaelic-speaking Scottish hottie. Yes, yes, most definitely yes. I digress...

We celebrated our Anniversary with a shopping trip to Mizner Center, where I discovered Francesca's and immediately set up a tent inside in hopes they would let me live there...kidding. But I did end up spending much too much mula on earrings and dresses, one of which I wore to our fancy schmancy dinner at CHOPS Lobster Bar. Pricey, but it was one of the best meal's we've ever had, and the service was out of this world. It was pretty dark, and I wanted to be completely unplugged during our dinner so I didnt take any photos, but just imagine a two pound radiantly red crustacean, and then imagine me slipping into a melted buttery dream with every blissful bite. And let's not even discuss the banana creme pie... TO. DIE. FOR. It was a perfect celebration of the past two years, complete with clinking wine glasses and reflection on what we've accomplished in our marriage thus far.

That said, there are miles to go before we sleep. (I mean, it's only been two years, we have at least another hundred to go, right? ) That's one of the things I love about marriage. The idea that there is so much yet to learn about each other and to experience side by side. I'm learning that we are not supposed to be in control of everything, and have our lives completely figured out. It's such a comfort to know that God has my life safely in the palm of His hands and my story has already been written. I think that also holds true for building and refining a marriage as time speeds by, goals are accomplished, hearts are broken, and simple joys are celebrated. We aren't supposed to know how it works right away. This marriage thing is hard work. Almost like when you plant sunflower seeds in the ground and you guess how high they will grow. We can't predict the potential that comes out of our own growth, but we can muster up enough strength and grace to go through the life sucking droughts and seemingly unceasing storms. There will be sunny days, and water to drink. There will. And someday we will be able to cut those sunflowers and put them in vase from Anthropologie and realize how those storms and droughts helped make these flowers so beautiful.

I can't imagine planting this garden with anyone else.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next day, in between downpours, we were able to go over to the Gumbo Limbo Wildlife Center, where we were fortunate enough to watch a turtle scarf down a HUGE salad, that would probably cost $15 at any restaurant, not including a mid afternoon cocktail. We also made friends with the biggest parrot fish I've ever seen, who should probably star in a toothpaste commercial.

On Friday, the sun finally emerged and the rain stopped long enough for me to get to go to Butterfly World, a magical place where butterflies flutter around and land on your hair, or nose, or tooshie, and hang on tight while you walk through the actual Garden of Eden. Seriously, if you ever have the chance, do your inner child or your actual child a favor and go. I'm certain that there were fairies napping peacefully in that dreamy sanctuary.

Our week in Boca was filled with rest, revival, laughter, lobster, hand holding, and butterflies. I'll take it.

SO WHAT Wednesday

2013-01-30T09:00:00.000-05:00

This week, I'm saying SO WHAT if,

I missed SWW last week...sorry.
I'm the proud new owner of a sewing machine even though the last thing I attempted to sew was a dog pillow that ended up looking like a moose. When at first you don't succeed... try, try another video tutorial found on Pinterest.
I was that girl who walked out of the restroom with a long trail of toilet paper stuck to her shoe... in New York City, no less.
Going on adventures by myself makes me truly happy. David knows that I love him dearly and cherish every day we spend together, but there is something special about those moments on your own. This weekend, I went to surprise one of my best friends in the whole wide world, upon her homecoming from Africa. It was the perfect weekend away:

One of the sweetest dogs I've ever known. Missing you, Arlo Guthrie...


Girl can cook! What's not to love about a Sunday morning Frittata?

I also love being home, snuggling with my hubby and two sweet cats. I love visiting the city, but I don't think I could ever live there.
I have no idea what to get said hubby for Valentine's Day. Any ideas??
I would vote for this kid for president...

What are YOU saying SO WHAT to this week?

The Thing That Goes "Ugghh" in the Night

2013-01-24T17:00:00.000-05:00

In the diabetes world, there is nothing scarier than a low blood sugar (hypoglycemia)

in the middle of the night. For the past 19 years, I've been lucky enough to feel my lows before they get out of control and luckier still to have the symptoms wake me up at night. These symptoms usually include feeling shaky, nervous, weak, and ridiculously sweaty (as if I don't sweat enough as it is...)

Last night was different. Maybe it was that I exercised for the first time in a long time that afternoon (using my brand spanking new Step Up Dance Revolution Work Out DVD, I might add), or maybe it was the fact that I woke up at 2am to use the bathroom, and blind bolused (taking insulin without testing your blood sugar...bad, bad move) while I was half asleep because I thought I was feeling symptoms of high blood sugar...but I crashed. Bad. At 3am, I sat straight up in bed, dripping in sweat, my heart pounding, feeling as though every cell of my body was vibrating. All I could do was let out an exasperated moan. I guess it was loud enough to wake David from his bear-like hibernation (a miracle in itself), because he sat up too, asking what was wrong. All I could say was "really low," beads of sweat dripping down my face. He got up immediately and ran to get my some juice. When he returned with the 64 ounce glass (bless his heart), he helped me test my blood. I was expecting something like 50....

It was 30. 3-0. Not the "30, flirty and thriving," kind. The "Is this the type of diabetic situation that ends in a hospital visit" kind. A normal person's blood sugar sits between 90-115...and I was 30.

At that point, my hands were shaking so bad that I spilled my juice down the front of me, so I switched to glucose tabs...(Side note: How can scientists create an artificial pancreas, but still can't produce glucose tabs that don't taste like I'm swallowing a stick of chalk that's been dipped in orange extract?) Scenes from Steel Magnolias were coming to mind. The scenes that used to make me feel so lucky that I wasn't the type of diabetic that always needed to have Glucagon (sort of like an Epi-pen for when your blood sugar is so low that it causes you to pass out) always at the ready or knew the ER nurses on a first name basis. It never once crossed my mind that something like that would or could ever happen to me. I've never had to go to the hospital for my diabetes, and I've never had to use Glucogon. Ever. Last night, I realized that I'm not immune. That incredibly scary situations can happen to me and they may happen again.

Soon enough, I started to feel somewhat normal again, just as the inevitable "Hypo-hangover" set it. I looked over at David, and said, "That could have been really, really bad." I sank into a heavy, damp sleep.

Can I just say, that my husband is one of the most selfless and compassionate people I've ever met? Even if he isn't saying anything, his eyes always tell me exactly what he's thinking. "I want to take this from you." "I hate that you have to feel this way" "Thank you, God, for protecting her." It's a humbling feeling, getting to spend the rest of your life with someone like that.

I'm okay now. Although I'm having a hard time concentrating on anything today. I just keep thinking, "What if I didn't wake up when I did?" Where would I be right now? Maybe those questions are melodramatic, but that's what's been going on in my head today.

That...and pure, unadulterated gratitude.

SO WHAT Wednesday

2013-01-16T12:15:00.000-05:00

Like I said yesterday, this week is just not OK...and this dark, cold rain doesn't help. I think David and I are going to take this opportunity to plan a summer vacation...Come on, Caribbean!

This week, I'm saying SO WHAT if:

I can't stop thinking about "Beasts of the Southern Wild." I am always floored and humbled by children who have the natural capability to portray consistent and dynamic characters. I'm totally rooting for Quevenzhane Wallis is to win the Oscar. I also want to invite her over to my house for a dance party.
I still ~~sometimes~~ almost cry anytime someone tells me I've done something wrong, or something in which they don't approve. I've done this since I was a little girl. One would think that twenty plus years later, I would get over it. Nope. Good thing I wear water-proof mascara.
I'm not a fan of home-improvement projects. I would so much rather pay someone to do it for me. I say this as though I put all the blood, sweat and tears into our home - well, maybe just tears - David and my Father-in-Law extraordinaire are the handymen. But in my perfect world, I would wake up, go to work, and when I got back, our bathroom would be done. And then the next day, our stairway would be painted. And then the next day the other two bathrooms would be done...what's the Powerball up to this week??
I will not be watching American Idol this year, due to the fact that I think that Nicki Manaj is an embarrassment to the female population, and I'm sick of Mariah's 3-pack-a-day voice and gigantic ta-tas.
One of the major reasons why I hate having Diabetes is that I can't have blue and red layered ICEE's as much as I want them.
I still sleep until 10-10:30 on weekends...and sometimes I will take a nap too.
Uncle Si from Duck Dynasty makes everything bad in this world just go away:

What are YOU saying "SO WHAT" to this week?

What is it you plan to do...?

2013-01-15T15:17:00.000-05:00

Friends, have you heard this poem by Mary Oliver?

Yes, I know that it's about summer and we are in the damp, cold clutches of the obnoxious and never ending part of winter. And yes, I first heard about this poem while reading Kelle Hampton's blog that I'm obsessed with...(seriously, who isn't obssessed with Kelle Hampton?). But I want you to pay attention to the last line...

I heard today that this week has been named the "most depressing week of the year." I have no idea who came to that conclusion or how they determined it, but I'm completely on board. Yeesh, ya'll. This one is for the birds. To the tune of, I considered calling out sick this morning because I am having such a bad hair day. "Buzz, your girlfriend...WOOF!"

I know I've said this before, but think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I haven't found that thing that I'm supposed to do. Recently, I've felt a lack of confidence in my chosen career path. My relationship with my job is such a roller coaster ride. I love the organization that I work for and the people I work with, but I can't help but feel like there is something else out there that is better suited for me. The one, tiny, insignificant detail is that I haven't the foggiest inkling as to what that something else is, or how to figure it out. And for someone who treats goals and direction like Temple Grandin's "Squeeze Machine," this wandering does not sit well with me. PS, if you haven't seen this movie...you need to. Immediately.

The question that I have yet to find an answer to is, how do I contribute to my family, financially, without sacrificing what brings me joy and fulfillment? Is that a self-centered, first-world, question?? It seems like it when I remember my friends in Zambia who go through so much to fend for their own families and to find employment in the first place. I'm so grateful to have a job, and to work for an organization that values it's employees and their development, and I don't see myself leaving in the very near future...but meanwhile, I feel like I'm losing valuable time doing something that isn't me.

I realize that maybe I won't find THE something I am supposed to do for a long time. Maybe this time is about being patient and content in what I do have. But that doesn't make the search any easier. Learning these major life lessons doesn't come naturally me. I tend to hit major milestones a lot later than most...i.e. my 12 year molars finished coming in when I was a freshman in college...yikes.

This week, David and I decided to make a "Before Baby Bucket List" of things we want to experience before we start our family. I think this is a good place to start with the whole making the most of our one wild and precious life. And if I can't come to any conclusions about the perfect career path at this very moment, maybe we can make some awesome memories in the meantime...

Oh, I forgot to include "Purchase a 13x13 inch print of a deer for my wall," in our list...but I totally did...

Scratch it off the list!

What are YOU doing with your one wild and precious life this week?

So What Wednesday

2013-01-09T12:00:00.000-05:00

By now, you've probably figured out that I am a photo/mom/event planning blog addict. I'm considering joining a support group. With that said, Shannon, over at Life After I "Dew" has this incredibly refreshing weekly post, called "So What Wednesday," where she basically celebrates the imperfections in her life and gives it a big "SO WHAT!?" I find this concept totally bril, so I'm linking up and joining in.

This week, I'm saying SO WHAT if:

My Christmas tree and all of my decorations are still up. I think the Christmas season is too short.
I always feel lost when I can't listen to Christmas music anymore, like I have no sense of musical direction.
I'm 25 and I don't know how to use a curling iron.
I'm still trying to grow my eyebrows back in from an over-plucking mishap in college.
I have baby fever like whoa...Mom, don't freak out. I know I'm not ready and need to get the "betes" in better control before we pull the proverbial goalie, but seeing all of these photos of stay at home moms getting together with their adorably dressed babies makes me feel a little bit left out.
I can only keep our bedroom clean for one whole day. I'm a confessed pile-r.
I'm kind of bummed that more people don't read my blog...I know I need to write for me and not worry about who reads it, but it still feels really good to watch the stats go up, and it's disappointing when they don't.
I still have not seen Les Mis.
I bought 20 group fitness classes on Groupon, two weeks ago and I have yet to go.
I'm terrified that my spazzy, stressed out, anxious self is going to wreak havoc on our someday kids.
I really, really miss acting.

Tune in next week for more SWW! What are YOU saying "So What" to this week??

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

2013-01-08T19:24:00.002-05:00

I am blessed to have a lot of incredibly talented photographer friends (see: Jensen Photography, Nicola Herring Photography, Morby Photography, Kelly Lapp Photography), who have inspired me to get my game face on about this whole photography thing. It's a hobby that I've wanted to pursue and get serious about for a really long time, and with their support, I think I'm going to do it this year. I love the idea of communicating a person's/couple's/family's story through single snapshots. I love the challenge of sharing someone's personality in a solitary moment. The opportunity to provide frozen memories that people can share years after.

But here's my problem... I'm completely intimidated by the technicality of exposure and all of the equipment out there that I know nothing about. Remember, I took Problem Solving 101 as my one and only math class in college, where we learned how to use Venn Diagrams, and figure out If-Then Statements...Katelin is to numbers, as toothpaste is to lemonade. No bueno. I have no idea what a UV filter is, or what a soft box is, or when to use a reflector, or a lens hood. How the heck do I keep my low light photos from going orange?

I have a few guesses as to what your answers will be: "It's easy Kate... just sell your kidneys and your first born to science, so you can buy a professional-grade camera and lenses... They will probably be able to grow them on the backs of mice in a few years anyway...(kidneys, not babies)" Seriously though, way to pick the most expensive hobby out there. How are you supposed to keep up if your not using it as a source of income?

You know what though? I. DON'T. CARE. I'm learning anyway. I'm tired of letting my fears get in the way of trying something really cool. I have two pretty versatile lenses, a new Canon T3i, from my incredibly good-looking husband, friend-mentors who graciously invite me on shoots to practice, and a Groupon for an online photography class (worth $450...got it for $30...what, what?!) LETTT'SSS... DO THIS THING!

My last post was about the word "discipline" guiding me through this year. I want to incorporate this into photography, because it takes practice and discipline to keep my camera out all the time and shoot. I need help though. I need practice. So I'm looking for Chester County, PA couples, families, babies, pet ferrets, who may want to spend 30 with minutes me so that I can take your photos. Who knows, you may get next year's Christmas card out of it...for FREE (warning: I'm still learning...). Comment below, if your interested!

For now, here are a few photos I snapped at Longwood Gardens this Christmas Eve. Enjoy...

A Word for 2013

2013-01-02T17:41:00.003-05:00

“I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine.”

Emily Dickinson

I've recently come upon some bloggers (Take Heart, The Wiegands) who have a great idea. They choose one word to guide the year ahead. This word steers their decisions and reminds them of the bigger picture. Words like Peace, Hope, Change, Brave, Light are so powerful and convicting and they play such a huge part in how we go about our days. "How can I bring peace to those around me today? How can I shine the light of Christ to people who are going through times of darkness? How can I be brave in the midst of this challenge?" It's so encouraging to think about how such a small thing, like a word, can hold so much potential for how we see the world, and how we fit in it.

So I'm totally copying. I'm picking a word for the year, but you'll have to forgive me for not choosing one that doesn't make you think about skipping through the flowering meadows of Austria and bursting into song.

My word for 2013 is: Discipline. Here's why:

I need discipline in taking better care of myself and my diabetes. Meaning, really paying attention to what my body is doing and not letting this disease take over my life. Oh, and that whole exercising thing? Yeah, so much of my anxiety and self-esteem issues would be solved if I could just make myself get up and break a sweat 5 times a week!
I need discipline in taking captive thoughts that go through my head that just aren't True. I tend to see my life as a series of pass/fail situations. I have yet to figure out where in my past that came from, but it's not doing me very well now.
I need discipline in being in the Word everyday. It's been too long, and my monogrammed study Bible is collecting dust. I need to remember that all those warm and comforting words, peace, hope, light, all come from His Word.
I need discipline in being thankful in all circumstances. Gosh, that's hard. We've talked about this one before, but it's so true. Having a heart of gratitude requires constant practice!
I need discipline in keeping up with this blog. Writing is like a cup of Sleepytime tea to my soul. I feel like I need a bit more direction with this space, though. And more photos. Lots more photos.
Finally...sister needs discipline in learning how to cook a meal! The idea of cooking meat, vegetables, some sort of starchy side so that it is somewhat digestible and warm all at the same time gives me heart palps...

So there are a few vague but very real goals for this year. I'm excited about what new adventures, challenges and friends will come our way, and how new found discipline will help me along the way.

"Self-discipline is an act of cultivation. It require you to connect today's actions to tomorrow's results. There's a season for sowing a season for reaping. Self-discipline helps you know which is which."
Gary Ryan Blair

For now...I hope 2013 makes you feel like this:

What's your word for 2013?

He is the Same

2012-12-18T17:07:00.002-05:00

When I find myself in the midst of uncertainty, confusion, fear, it always helps me to write. To get this swirling, spiraling, snowballing mess out of my mind and onto a page. Something I can hold and see, words that are the same every time I read them. There is comfort in returning to something that will always be the same, when so much of life is constantly in flux. I don't know what will end up on this page, but I know I need to see these words in front of me.

This weekend, my heart and my spirit were wrecked. When I close my eyes, I see the sweet, pure smiling faces of those kids, the passion and love the teachers had for them. I see the terror and shock of their parents, friends and siblings. I want to be in their homes and hold these families and rock in the dampness of our tears together. I can't turn off the news because I want to feel their sorrow and heartache, so they know they aren't alone. I don't want to turn the other way. I don't want to pretend it didn't happen, because it did.

I came across this post the other day, and it was such a great reminder of God's unchanging love for his children. There is such peace in knowing that God is still good, God is still great, even in the midst of such evil and brokenness. Just like words on a page, He is the same.

(Warning: the following is a look into my constant wrestling match with God's being...) But there is part of me that is still confused. If God is sovereign and in control...why didn't He step in on Friday? In His "perfect timing," why didn't He intervene and save the 20 children and 6 women who had so much left to give this world? Even if He did give us free will, and even if we do choose to turn away from Him at times, why didn't He protect the innocent that morning?

I guess I could ask the same thing about His own Son... he could have intervened and saved Jesus from the cross, a punishment for a crime he didn't commit...but then where would we be? The stone would still be blocking His tomb. There would be no victory over death. We would have no hope of Heaven. But writing that doesn't take away the sorrow of knowing that these families are grieving so heavily, though. It makes me wish that God's nature wasn't so mysterious. That His ways and timing made more sense. That the innocent didn't pay for the sin of the wicked...

I don't think we're supposed to understand. There is no making sense of this. What we are supposed to do is be God's hands, and ears,and mouth and shoulders. We're supposed to invite Him into this pain and feel it with us, because He does, and He will.

I'll leave you with one of my favorite Christmas songs, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day." I love the last verse...

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep

"God is not dead, nor does He sleep

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail

With peace on earth, goodwill to men."

Giving Thanks

2012-11-01T19:42:00.000-04:00

"Delicious Autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." George Eliot

It has been a hectic few weeks. I've been in the process of planning Access Services' 1st Annual Fall Charity Event that took place this past Saturday. You can gather that our organization has never done a fancy schmancy gala event before, but it was a big success in my book! Yes, there were hiccups, and things to learn and improve for next year, but right now, at this moment, I'm proud of the work that our team put into seeing it through.

To say that I'm relieved is quite an understatement. Since Saturday, David and I waited and prepped for Sandy to strike. We were so grateful that we never lost power, or heat, or water when there are so many along the coast that have lost everything. At the same time, we got ready for Halloween. The candles, the decorations, the crisping, crunching leaves, the pumpkin carving and pumpkin seeds. I'll be honest and say that Halloween is not my favorite holiday. I usually end up feeling really embarrassed for all the girls that go out in barely any clothes, celebrating that its their one night out of the year to dress like a skank...um. no. Sexy Chewbacca? Come on, ladies...

Living in a townhouse community means lots of kids and therefore lots of trick-or-treaters! I was so excited! David carved his usual Philly Art Museum worthy pumpkin, and I kept it simple. I even had a Halloween playlist going as herds of kids rang our doorbell. I may or may not have been more excited than they were.

And now, it's November. Now, I can see my breath at night, Starbucks Holiday cups are out, and I'm constantly wondering when it's appropriate for me to start listening to the N*SYNC Christmas album. But it's also a time for genuine and intentional thanksgiving, and it seems a little bit more meaningful this year.

Remember this verse?..."Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:18)." Yeah, that stings a bit. Because sometimes, it doesn't seem like there is any way to be thankful for down right sucky circumstances. I've been reading, One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. If you haven't read it yet, immediately open a new tab and order it from Amazon. In it, she talks about this very struggle. How do you be thankful for everything, the highs and lows? She calls thanksgiving a discipline that requires constant practice. Easier said than done. She talks about how we are often unable to see God pass us by and go before us when things get rough. She says, "I've an inkling that there are times when we need to drive a long, long distance, before we can look back and see God's back in the rear view mirror. Maybe sometimes about as far as heaven - That kind of distance."

I'm really working on practicing being thankful, because the more intentional we are about giving thanks, the more we'll see how God has been faithful. And when there are so many things in life that are unreliable, a good and faithful God is something to cherish.

Today, on November 1st, I'm thankful for our sweet little home, waiting to be transformed into a Breitmayer story. (Can't wait to show you the new kitchen...when it's done...which may be a while. Hold your horses!)

What are you thankful for tonight?

If You Really Knew Me

2012-09-06T19:37:00.000-04:00

Whilst perusing my growing list of blog subscriptions the other day, I came upon a post idea that inspired me to start thinking about how well I really know me.

If you really knew me...

You'd know that I hate, hate, HATE E.T. The thought of some wrinkly, non-human creature popping up in my toy-closet scares the dickens out of me. I don't care if you think he's cute or if he has Reese's Pieces.

You'd know that I have real commitment issues, but that I'm also really impulsive. For example, I realize that homey has really let herself go... So, I go buy $150 DVD exercise program, do it for a week, and never turn it on again.

You'd know that I really struggle with anxiety and insecurity. This stems from my diabetes and feeling like I don't have control of my body or the world around me. For this reason, I'm really big proponent of counseling/therapy. I've seen a counselor/therapist/friend for 3 years now, and it is so wonderful to be able to trust your thoughts, feelings, and past with someone who is so vested in your healing. Seeing a counselor doesn't mean that my faith isn't strong enough, or I don't pray hard enough or I'm not listening to God's voice hard enough. It means that I'm choosing to confide in someone who isn't directly involved in my family or other relationships I don't know if this crosses some sort of boundary, but he will always be one of my truest and dearest friends.

You'd know that I'm not a very picky eater, but I CANNOT eat Ravioli (the cheese-filled kind). Don't even try. I'll vom.

You'd know that I believe that Jesus died so that I would not have to fear death, or carry the guilt of my sin, and so that I can have a real, honest friendship with Him. But I still wrestle with my faith and the essence and personality of God every single day. I wonder why he allowed me to get diabetes, my Pop-pop to pass away unexpectedly at a young age, and why beautiful, faithful, loving African children must go without parents and food and education when they love Him so much. Maybe I'm not supposed to know why, but I still lay awake at night and wonder.

You'd know that I also believe that God calls us to LOVE one another. No. Matter. What. I don't care who you want to marry, who you want to vote for, what you've done. Who are we to judge each other? Along the same lines, I believe that God wants us to love ourselves the way He love us. Maybe I'm being defensive, but it makes me really sad when Christians continue to identify themselves as "sinners" and "wretched." No. You are loved and adored and cherished. No. Matter. What.

You'd know that I still have no idea what my career is supposed to be and that I had no idea what my career was supposed to be when I picked my college major at 17 years old. How in the world are you supposed to know how you're supposed to contribute to the world at an age when you hardly know yourself? I've spent 4+ years figuring out what I don't want to do, and have yet to figure out what I do want. With that said, I'm thankful and blessed for the learning experiences that God has provided so far.

If you really knew me, you'd know that I find so much solace in writing, but I can't bring myself to do it enough. In times of stress or depletion, I'm much more drawn to the distraction of a really good film or funny TV show, than to sit down and work through my feelings with pencil and paper.

You'd know that my deepest regret is not taking dance seriously. I LOVE to dance. One of my proudest memories is dancing with one of my dearest friends, Ali, at a high school dance, whereby a group of basketball players stood around the proverbial dance circle and said, "Those be some FUNKY white girls!" I'll toot my own horn and say that I have no problem feeling out a beat, but I've never been able to pick up an 8-count after seeing it once like the girls who've been dancing since they were four. Oh, how I wish I could...

Photo by Nicola Herring Photography

You'd know that nothing makes me happier than laughing and being goofy (a.k.a completely myself) with my husband.

You'd know that I'm probably going to obsess over all the other things I should have written in this post. Maybe this kind of thing can come in installments. This ongoing discovery or rediscovery of what's really going on inside of this heart of mine.

Comparison is the Thief of Joy

2012-08-10T17:00:00.000-04:00

Gosh, I love that quote. (Props to my man, Teddy Roosevelt.) Mostly because I've always struggled with constantly comparing myself to people around me. It's a terrible habit and I think there should be some sort of medicated patch for it. Clothes, craftiness, the ability to cook, friends, money, blog followers, fully functioning organs...I could go on. It's exhausting! What is it about us that is always wanting more that what is in front of us? Why is it never enough?

David and I are settling on our first house on Monday. (Stay tuned for photos!) It's a cute little townhouse with a window seat for me and a tiny back deck so David can grill. I am so stinkin' excited to get all of our stuff moved in and to actually start using Pinterest for something productive, like building a spiral metal slide in place of a staircase! We also found people to rent our apartment so we didn't have to break our lease and pay an ungodly amount of money for administration fees...what that means, I still have no idea. Good things are happening and we are so grateful! And yet, I still find my mind slinking away to the seemingly "better" lives of Facebook friends. It's like some self-destructive addiction.

Side Note: People do not post photos Facebook and Instagram of fights with their boyfriend/girfriend/husband/wife/kids. They don't post photos of meltdowns during summer vacation, or Friday nights when plans fall through and you're left sitting on the couch with your cat. But this is the truth: Facebook life is not real life. Real life is messy and brutal sometimes, we just don't choose to publicize it, like self-taken duck lip photos. Everyone has their own stuff!... Seriously, enough with the duck lips.

Here's the thing about comparison, though. It's basically telling yourself that you are not enough, and that what God is doing in your life and what He has planned for you is not enough. I'm so guilty of this! I've found that it starts with lack of self-confidence and that pesky negative self-talk that seems to buzz around like a horsefly during a pool party. We rob ourselves of finding joy and contentment in the present when we compare our lives with others. So, I've come up with a mantra that I say to myself any time I start to circle the drain of comparison: "I'm worthy, I'm capable, I'm enough."

What do you do to find contentment and keep yourself from comparing?

Wise Words from Mr. Lucado: Make a Difference

2012-06-29T09:36:00.000-04:00

I get weekly emails from Max Lucado, because frankly, he just gets it. This morning it felt like he had crawled into my heart, poked around, ran some tests, and presented me with a neatly packaged report of what I needed to hear, complete with kraft paper, rubber stamps, and baker's twine.

Today I will make a difference. I will begin by controlling my thoughts. A person is the product of his thoughts. I want to be happy and hopeful. Therefore, I will have thoughts that are happy and hopeful. I refuse to be victimized by my circumstances. I will not let petty inconveniences such as stoplights, long lines, and traffic jams be my masters. I will avoid negativism and gossip. Optimism will be my companion, and victory will be my hallmark. Today I will make a difference.

I will be grateful for the twenty-four hours that are before me. Time is a precious commodity. I refuse to allow what little time I have to be contaminated by self-pity, anxiety, or boredom. I will face this day with the joy of a child and the courage of a giant. I will drink each minute as though it is my last. When tomorrow comes, today will be gone forever. While it is here, I will use it for loving and giving. Today I will make a difference.

I will not let past failures haunt me. Even though my life is scarred with mistakes, I refuse to rummage through my trash heap of failures. I will admit them. I will correct them. I will press on. Victoriously. No failure is fatal. It’s OK to stumble… . I will get up. It’s OK to fail… . I will rise again. Today I will make a difference.

I will spend time with those I love. My spouse, my children, my family. A man can own the world but be poor for the lack of love. A man can own nothing and yet be wealthy in relationships. Today I will spend at least five minutes with the significant people in my world. Five quality minutes of talking or hugging or thanking or listening. Five undiluted minutes with my mate, children, and friends.

Today I will make a difference.

On to making a difference today. Hope to see you out there!

Write it Down.

2012-06-25T20:17:00.003-04:00

(Get your mind out of the gutter...)

After listening to a simply wonderful NPR segment today on my way into the city, I heard the most liberating and restorative poem:

I didn’t trust it.
But I drank it anyway
The wine of my own poetry.

It gave me the daring,
To take hold of the darkness
and cut it into pieces.
—Lalla, A Sufi Poet

What an image! Gripping your suffering and pain with white knuckles and cutting it up with sharp shears, like a love letter from someone you thought you could trust.

I used to write poetry. One of my favorite times in college was the small family that grew out of a basic level poetry class. We took risks, and some shared deep dark parts that were hidden by snow white dresses. I miss it, desperately.

From my own experience, writing can be such an integral part of healing and recovery. It allows for the sorting out of all those pesky and painful thoughts that buzz around in your head like bees. It puts them in plain sight and helps you to become reacquainted with yourself again.

You don't have to be a poet. Just put the pen or your favorite Ticonderoga to some paper and let it fly. My Nana used to tell me to spend 10 minutes a day writing. It didn't matter what. When I would visit her, she would come up with a prompt and we would set the clock and start scribbling down whatever came to mind. Sometimes I would surprise myself when the little bell rang and read over the words that had spilled out on the page. I remember feeling lighter, like dropping a heavy suitcase to the floor after a long day of traveling.

I'm going to start writing again. You should too. Just see what happens.

Need some help? Check out a daily writing prompt website like Writer's Digest!

Here Comes the Sun: Our Wedding

2012-06-05T09:00:00.000-04:00

So I'm thinking this should have been one of my first posts, due to the fact that it was one of the most significant days of my life, but alas, here we are half way into 2012. This is going to be UBER photo heavy, so I thought that I would prepare a mood/playlist that you might want to build for yourself on Youtube or Spotify or something. I'll give you a minute to compile:

Here Comes the Sun by Yo Yo Ma and James Taylo r (Our first dance song)
I Will Not Take My Love Away by Matt Wertz ( Our good friend, Brian played this song during the ceremony)
Signed, Sealed, Delivered by Stevie Wonder (The quartet played this as our processional. B.A.)
Say Hey (I Love You) by Michael Franti and Spearhead (Our entrance song into the reception)
I Was Made for Sunny Days by The Weepies
You Are the Best Thing by Ray LaMontagne
Dela by Johnny Clegg
Crayola Doesn't Make a Color for Your Eyes by Kristin Andreassen
You and Me by Dave Matthews Band
This Will Be (An Ever Lasting Love) by Natalie Cole

I had trouble sleeping the night before Sunday, May 29th, 2011. I didn't have cold feet, but I was completely consumed with thoughts like, "This is it. After a year and half of planning and waiting, it's here. Today is my wedding day. The only wedding day I'll ever have. Am I ready for this?" At 6 a.m., I decided I needed to get out of my little room and get some air, luckily I passed my mom on the way and she came down to our hot tub with me. I soaked and breathed in my mom's comforting words and soothing voice. I was going to be just fine.

The girls and I got our hair and makeup done, the flowers arrived, and it was finally time to put on my dress:

Gosh, I loved that dress. It was the first one I tried on. I loved the cotton fabric, the delicate appliques, the buttons,THE POCKETS! Oh, the pockets! It's really a tragedy that you're really only supposed to wear a dress that gorgeous for one day.

One of the most unforgettable moments for me that day was when my dad saw me for the first time. It was absolutely perfect.

Before we left for the church, we hurried outside for some group photos. Seriously...how stunning are these girls!?

Meanwhile, the boys were already there, getting ready and looking quite dapper.

Quick pause for some details of the ceremony at Fairview Presbyterian Church.

It was go time. After some prayers and group song (seriously, how can you NOT sing "Going to the Chapel" with your bridesmaids at the top of your lungs minutes before you say "I do"?), we all lined up to walk down the aisle.

The girls walked gracefully to "While Sheep May Safely Graze" and then it was my turn. The doors opened, "Canon in D" started, my dad gave my hand a final squeeze and off we went...

We did it!

Except for the unity candle that wouldn't light, it was a perfect ceremony. I loved the imperfection. It was so personal and so us. It was such a blessing to have our family and friends play a role in the ceremony. My Nana read from Colossians, my Aunt Karen played "Come Thou Fount" on the piano, our friend Brendon and his quartet played throughout, and Brian played an acoustic version of our song, "I Will Not Take My Love Away."

After some quick family photos, we took off to the Welkinwier Estate for the reception!

We had a few minutes to snack on some delicious hors d'oeuvres and blueberry mojitos, before we went down to the ruins to take some group shots:

We had a spectacular meal, accompanied by great toasts by my dad, one of my best friends and the greatest Maid of Honor in all of history, and David's best friend Paul.

It's true when they say that you don't eat at your own wedding. Soon enough David and I went back down to the fields below the house. (I'll spare you and just post some highlights.)

It was finally time to party! I couldn't wait dance with my new husband and all our friends and family. Spoiler alert: It was the greatest night of my life.

And all too soon, it was time for us to say goodbye. The night had come to an end. I remember feeling so incredibly happy to finally be married. To leave with my HUSBAND. But I was so sad that it was over. But I couldn't dwell. There were extra long sparklers to light!

I can't say thank you enough to my parents, the Breitmayers, and our entire support team of vendors. You gave David and I a perfect wedding. It's so important to have vendors that you trust, and that really care about you and your event. We couldn't have asked for better. Here they are:

Photographer: Nicola Herring Photography

Florist: Laurie Sasko Designs

Hair: Avante on Main Street

Bridal Make up: Michaela Parlett

Church: Fairview Presbyterian Church

Quartet: Shaw Strings

Reception Site: Welkinweir Estate

Caterer: Bause Catered Events

DJ: Silver Sound Entertainment - Michael Kane

Favors: Madison Ave. Confections

I'll close with the verse that Nana read at the ceremony because I think it sums up what we continue to strive towards as we build our marriage, even a year later.

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:12-17

A Year Later...

2012-06-04T17:30:00.000-04:00

Last weekend, David and I celebrated our first anniversary. I'm finding it difficult to wrap my head around the fact that it has been a whole year already, but what an incredible year it has been! I also realized that I never showed you the highlights of our wedding! Excuse the blogging faux-pas. My next post will cover all the gorgeous details and the lovey-dovey glow that comes naturally on wedding day.

To celebrate, we decided to take a road trip down to Charlottesville, Virginia to see some of the vineyards on the Monticello Wine Trail. Allow me to brush off my shoulders before I tell what a FANTASTIC idea this was. It was absolutely beautiful and we were so blessed to have warm, sunny weather while we were transported back to the days of Tommy Jefferson and my dear, sweet Jimmy Madison. The rolling hills, the old fences along the winding roads, it's enough to make you collapse on your porch swing and reach for a glass of chilled Viognier...

Speaking of which, our first stop was Veritas Vineyard. Good heavens. If you ever have a chance, bless yourself and go there. We were lucky enough to sit with two incredibly fun couples for our tasting. We laughed the whole time, and I remembered why I have been missing the south so much. The accent that I picked up while I studied at JMU returned immediately. I found my bliss.

The next day we visited Dave Matthew's Vineyard, Blenheim. We loved this one just as much, because of its homey, earthy feel. Dave designed the tasting room himself and used all recycled material. The back deck looked out on vast farm land, complete with an old tractor.

The next stop was Jefferson Vineyard. Although we didn't have time to visit Monticello (the tour is a bit pricey!), we promised to come back again to see it. Jefferson was more casual than we were anticipating. Beautiful gardens, but not our favorite vineyard.

We pulled over on the side of the road a few times to take in the general splendor, and the most adorable red-roofed church I've ever seen.

We ended our trip with a jaw-dropping and drooling dinner at the Boar's Head Inn. Sipping our wine and chilled cucumber soup (David crunched on a salad that looked like it should have been on display at the Philly Art Museum), we spent some time reflecting on this past year. You can go to all the premarital counseling sessions you want and read all the Christian Marriage books on the best seller's list, but nothing really teaches you about marriage like actually being in it, and roughing out all the ups and downs, awkward hand in awkward hand (Boy Meets World, anyone??). We have learned the undeniable need for grace, humility, laughter, patience, flexibility and long after-dinner walks through town. We've discovered that insecurities and fear don't go away after the wedding day...the need to shave my legs every day has, however. It's so important to support each other and come along side one another during those times of self-doubt. It's not always necessary to provide a solution, just reassurance that we aren't going anywhere and neither is our love. And with that, I'll leave you with some marital advice from the omniscient Pinterest (Pop over to one of my favorite blogs, Today's Letters, for a great post about their marriage):

I love you, david james. with all of me.