A Beatin' Heart

As I sit and look back on the past year of this blog, it is funny the thoughts that come to mind. I can literally remember every post and the purpose behind each writing....which, in itself, brings both joy and pain. 2010 has been one the best and most difficult years that I have ever walked through. Rereading my posts, however, I see a clear picture of "me" in them. Each one is spun with a happy ending, an encouraging thought, maybe even an insightful epiphany. It makes me wonder why I do that, why I write that way. And that is when it hit me....it isn't that IT IS always happy, encouraging, or insightful, but I write with hope...hope that it can be. So it is with hope that I say goodbye to 2010 and look forward to 2011. Hope that I will take the lessons God has given me this year and make me stronger, better, and brighter for the years to come. Just a few things I've learned this year (in no particular order): *I am a social person. I love people. I love to

The lights were dim, candles were lit, the worship team was singing, tears were streaming down my face. This is where I found myself in church this morning. The message that has been stirring in my heart for weeks had never been made so clear, had never been so powerful in that moment. When I allow myself to look back over the past year, I realize that it has been without a doubt the toughest year I have ever experienced to date (which is a scary thought in itself....to date.....knowing that there will be harder years to come). I have experienced the highest of highs, the lowest of lows, been transitioned, unsettled, uncertain, unprepared, uniquely broken. And though all of these things continue to wage war against me daily, I have marveled at God's ever impeccable timing. It is such timing that reminds me beyond a shadow of a doubt that He is in fact there, that He is in control of all things, and that He does love me. I have said many times that Christmas is what has saved

I love snow!!! I could sit for hours wrapped in a blanket watching it fall to the ground. It is the only time I don't mind the cold. I love building snowmen (or snow women). I love making snow angels and watching my kids try to make them beside me. I love snowball fights and using objects as shields. I love sledding. I would be Chevy Chase greasing up my sled for a big hill (if there were any where I live). I love building snow tunnels. I love when the trees completely ice over and it feels like you are in a winter wonderland. I love ice icicles. I love hot chocolate when you come inside. I love potato soup. I love hearing my kids laughter and joy playing in the snow. I love that everyone looks crazy in their snow get-up and no one even notices. I love snowbird reports and I don't even teach anymore. I love that snow makes everything look beautiful. I LOVE SNOW!!! But most of all I love that it is the tangible proof that a new season is here. So I say....brin

A few weeks ago a friend (literally) dropped a book on my doorstep. Untouched, unopened it sat on my coffee table until a few days ago. Unspoken is a historical fiction story of Bathsheba and King David. While I loved learning more of Bathsheba, turning down pages where quotes spoke to me on deeper levels, and even learning from her story in ways, it was David who led me to write this blog tonight. David was a faithful man. A son of a shepherd, he defeated the mighty Goliath. God delivered him from his enemies and chose him to be King. These are the stories you hear growing up about David. Reading this book, however, opened my eyes to a David I had not previously known. David lusted over Bathsheba, had her brought to him, had an affair with her. When she became pregnant he had her husband killed to cover up his sin. His first born son raped his half-sister Tamar and David did nothing. His second son killed that son, fled the country, and still David did nothing. When that

"A friend took me to the most amazing place the other day. It's called the Augusteum. Octavian Augustus built it to house his remains. When the barbarians came they trashed it a long with everything else. The great Augustus, Rome's first true great emperor. How could he have imagined that Rome, the whole world as far as he was concerned, would be in ruins. It's one of the quietest, loneliest places in Rome. The city has grown up around it over the centuries. It feels like a precious wound, a heartbreak you won't let go of because it hurts too good. We all want things to stay the same. Settle for living in misery because we're afraid of change, of things crumbling to ruins. Then I looked at around to this place, at the chaos it has endured - the way it has been adapted, burned, pillaged and found a way to build itself back up again. And I was reassured, maybe my life hasn't been so chaotic, it's just the world that is, and the real trap is getting attach

Have you ever just felt....unsettled? I have been homeless, living with roommates for the past 6 months, waiting for our home to be built. Unsettled should be a feeling I have gotten used to by now. It just feels different this time. I feel like life right now is moving so quickly, and I just can't seem to keep up with it. I am aimlessly going from one thing to the next, getting done what needs to get done, in hopes of simply staying in the race. Life.....is beginning to change and will soon look very different, and I think I'm just "feeling" that. I can't stop it, hit the pause button, or even the refresh one (wouldn't that be nice?). So...unsettled....ready or not....I enter the next chapter of my life.

Who can't think back to a first love (or "loves") without a smile coming to your face. You may even find yourself giggling a little, thinking about how silly you were in those days. But none the less, young love was fun: not a care in the world, no responsibilities, you could NEVER turn your head for another, would NEVER consider loving anyone else. Holding hands in public symbolized to the world that he was yours and you were his. Or even better than holding hands....having a token of that person to show the world. Which leads me to the reason for my ramblings. Yes, I admit it, I am reading Twilight....again. I find that it truly is the one book I think I could read over and over and not get tired of. There is something about the innocence and sweetness of the book that lures me back in every time. Yesterday I came to the part in the book where Edward gave Bella his jacket to wear, which, in its simplicity, was a big moment. She wrapped up in it, loved that it

Stones...hurt. Size does not matter. Big ones squish. Small ones sting. Strong. They are not easily broken. Good for keeping things in. Good for keeping things out. Why is it when we are older we begin taking all of those stones that have been cast our way and start building walls around our heart? Someone hurts us....add a stone. Someone lets us down....add a stone. Someone diminishes our hope....another stone. We're disappointed.....stone. Lied to....stone. We "feel" these things so deeply, that somewhere we want to just stop feeling them. We build that wall, piece by piece, stone by stone, so that next time....it may not hurt as bad. So what then? This is where I was tonight..."was" being the appropriate word. Then something within that wall whispered: "Trust me, Laura." ...... and a stone fell. "Have faith that I am walking with you." ..... another stone.... "I will always take care of you." .......stone...... No matter how big

Breathe. Close eyes. Pray. Breathe. Hold...something. Pray. Relax. Motions.....these are the motions that usually take place within me while riding on an airplane. I wasn't always this way. In fact my first plane ride was to Hawaii. That's not exactly what I would call....easing into it. And I remember loving it. My next one....London/Paris.....that is where my the scar on my courage came from. I remember little about it except some of our guy friends holding their hands up on the plane as if we were on a roller coaster ride going up and down. I'm glad that at least they were amused. I sit here writing this because I'm definitely battling mixed emotions about an upcoming trip. I am getting the opportunity to visit California in a few days. Part of me is ecstatic....a few hours, sitting, no one needing me, not having to make conversation with anyone, someone serving me (even if it is a beverage....heck, I might even go for an adult one), getting lost in a book, maybe eve

I sat on the bench, opened the top, placed my fingers on the keys, and closed my eyes. Without a single thought they began to move swiftly over the keys and play the beautiful Cannon in D. "I can't believe I still remember how to play this and still play it so well after all these years." And that is when it always happens. As soon as I allow myself to "think" about what I am doing, what keys I need to play next, I find myself stuck. I try to repeat the stanza I had just played, and sometimes I can't even remember that. It's the "thinking" that gets me.....every time. It is not satisfaction, but rather shock when I actually make it through the entire song....flawlessly. I love the little ways God shows up in my daily life....and ALWAYS gives me a lesson. One would think I might learn something one of these days. A simple moment at the piano brought on today's epiphany on life. Every time I put too much thought into the steps I am t

I have always been a dreamer. Most people say that they cannot remember their dreams, however, I have always been able to. Sometimes I wake from such a deep sleep (usually by a child crying =) ) that I have to sit for a minute to remind myself what is reality. The other morning, however, I awoke with a very clear image in mind. What was so interesting about the dream is that it wasn't a story, adventure, conversation, or anything that usually comes to life in the dream world. It felt more like a message....or maybe I should say "reminder." This picture in my mind was one that I remember so clearly from years ago. In fact, I remember discussing the meaning this image holds with friends in bible studies throughout college: a simple hand, gripping sand. I like to be control of my world. Have I ever written about being terrified of flying? Well, I'm terrified of flying, and this past summer, I finally figured out why. I have no control of that plane. My job i

"T...i...m...e.... is on your side, yes it is." Why the creepy song from Fallen is going through my head as I begin this post, I do not know. I started thinking today about time and what an interesting concept it is. It is funny what a simple thing as "time" can change. I was driving on the other side of town today. It is amazes me how big our little city feels sometimes. The college is on the complete opposite end of town, and there really aren't many reasons for me to ever go over to that side. When those rare days come, however, I am flooded with sweet memories. I try to convince myself that I am not really that old.....that it was only a few precious years since I graduated...that it wasn't in fact 11 years ago that I began that journey, gained independence, pledged a sorority, and made my lifelong friends. What was I writing....oh yes.....time! So as I was driving an old, familiar home caught my eye. It was nicely painted and appeared now to b

It is that time of the week again, or if you are lucky you've allowed two weeks in between....the dreaded grocery visit. If you are a stay at home mom you have both a love-hate relationship with this store. You walk aimlessly down the isles, thankful, one, to at least be out of the house and, two, for remembering to make that list before you left. As if you can actually remember what you need once you enter this endless land of (crying, screams, grabbing things off the shelves) food items! You usually allow yourself 30 seconds to think, "Do I dare enter empty handed? I mean...my children are EXPECTED to behave a certain way." And once that ridiculous thought passes, you reach for the....sucker, goldfish....basically anything that will provide you with a few minutes of concentration on what you are actually there to do. If you can relate to this at all, then most likely you can probably relate to the events that occurred BEFORE leaving the house. While sparing det

4 months. It has been approximately 4 months since I last wrote on this blog. From the outside looking in, so much about my life has been changed over the course of that time. From the inside looking out, however, everything has changed. My heart and my head have been in a daily battle. "I have been hurting. Life is hard. I don't know who I am anymore. Things aren't going like I hoped they would. I am not happy." etc, etc, etc, whine, whine, whine And then there was David. I was sitting on the floor, completely broken, completely humbled, sobbing to Lord. I talk to the Lord often, but am guilty of not seeking Him like I should. Feeling defeated, I reached over, grabbed my roommate's Bible, and opened it to the page that was marked. Psalm 31. As I read the words of David, my heart began to cry with him. I couldn't have written the words in that moment any better. "....I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the

Yes, I am a self-proclaimed sap...and proud of it! I can't help it...was born with the gene...to feel vastly and love deeply! So I am admitting to the world that I struggle with the concept of love sometimes. I know movies are movies and books are books, and that we can't compare real love to what we discover in stories. However, there is a part of me that is conflicted with that response. I believe that as people, if we are able to be moved enough to not only write stories/movies of such depth, then somewhere, someone has had to "feel" that intensely. In my heart, it can't just be dreamed up. How could the God that has given us the ability to dream so far not also give us the capacity to love just as great? So the purpose of my post.....I have just finished reading Wuthering Heights. I have really enjoyed reading the classics lately. I love finding myself in a different time period, allowing these books to be my eyes into the way life was long before me.

I'll never forget the last time I walked out of my childhood house. I was home from college for the weekend. For whatever reason, my mother and I had been arguing, and I stormed out angry. When it finally hit me that the next time I longed for home I would find myself in another house, my heart completely sank. I sat outside, hiding myself between the one foot wall separating the garage doors, put my head in my hands, and sobbed. I knew, through my immature actions, that this was not the way to leave. My pride, however, kept me from reentering my house. And I left. I left. Those words....that memory...still aches my heart with grief. I think about going back there often, knocking on a stranger's door, explaining who I am. Each time I am in town, I drive by and notice from the outside alone how much it has changed, and decide that I don't want my memories to be clouded by foreign images. When I heard this song, it took me back. I am so thankful that no matter how

This may come as a complete shock to those who know me well....but I....have become a reader. I think it is my long lost passion. I can't recall why I never liked to read growing up. There is something about being "made" to read that takes the fun right out of it. One of my sweet friends told me about this book. The cover of the book reads, "a modern-day slave, an international art dealer, and the unlikely woman who bound them together." I was truly touched by the true story of Denver Moore and Ron Hall. It amazes me daily the relationships that God can bring together, but even more so, the wisdom that can come from the most unexpected places. The wisdom I am referring to came from a homeless man (Denver), and I wanted to share some of his quotes that stuck with me from the book. I hope that I can carry them with me always and begin viewing the world as he did. "The Word says God put ever star in the heavens and even give ever one of em a name. If

"She tapped her finger & nothing happened & she thought she had lost her magic, but it had only changed & it took her awhile to figure it out." I love this quote! When I read it for the first time it was like a lightbulb went off within me. I feel like it is the very definition of my life in this season. I have been struggling with identity. Who was I before I had children? When you look in the mirror, hair flowing in all directions, teeth have not been brushed, pajamas still in check, and realize you haven't even eaten today....you start to wonder sometimes if you have lost your magic....lost what made you YOU in the first place. For someone that doesn't handle or accept loss well, I am beginning to see that it is an unavoidable part of our existence, and that it has a funny way of presenting itself sometimes. Whether it be loss of self, loss of love, loss of friendship, loss of life....somewhere in our journey whatever is taken from us leaves us..

I will probably find myself writing many blog entries about my weekend retreat. There were so many moments that truly touched my heart...and so many times I heard God's whisper. One of those moments came in the form of a girl named April. I sat with her Friday night and listened to her tell all about her path to becoming a Special Education teacher. She told me that it was difficult for her growing up with cerebral palsy and always being treated so different. April wants to be a teacher to help and love children going through experiences she herself faced as a child. Not only that, she works at a camp helping children with disabilities. I was truly touched by her story and her zest for life. She has done more for others in her years than I will probably ever do in my life. April ended up spending most of the weekend with us, and I am pretty she sure thinks I am about as crazy as it gets after our Saturday night of dancing, laughing, and being silly..... ......but as I sto

"The journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step." That is the message I am holding in my heart today. I began last weekend a broken mess and walked away, not fully restored, but feeling hopeful once again. A war is not won is one big sweep, but in the small victorious battles. I am learning....that it is all about the battles. Joy on the Journey In the last two years the Lord has blessed me with two beautiful children. And because of these sweet blessings, I have been unable to attend the women's retreats at church. This year...I was out of excuses. Not really feeling a strong desire to attend as well as thinking this was going to be a fun, light weekend of conversation.....I set out on the road to Dickson. My heart has been heavy for a while now....heavy with life, responsibilities, loss of identity. Somewhere along this journey I have found myself living in the existence that this was as good as it gets....and I have not been satisfied. So when I walked

It is not a strange fact to anyone that I enjoy writing....in all shapes and forms that can encompass. For years now I have considered myself a "struggling" guitar player. I've taught myself the basics...enough to get by on, enough to strum a melody....and I still hold on to a hope of learning to one day play well. What I've discovered about myself over the years is that I love to write songs, pouring into them life, experiences, and feelings. I was taking my child to school today when I started singing/brainstorming a song that I have played around with time and again. I love the innocence that only a child can display as he said, "Sing it again, Mommy." Only a sweet, endearing two year old can find joy in his mommy's not-so-eloquent singing voice. As I began to sing, as well as search my brain for other songs I have once written, I realized that I have written many songs that include only a chorus and a bridge. Looking at the pages and pages o