Write Your story on my heart

This past weekend, women from our church gathered in a b-e-a-utiful cabin in Gatlinburg for our annual Women's Retreat. To say we were excited for a weekend girls' getaway would be an understatement. 

My gal, Di, and I were ready for our roadtrip. We brought the goods- coconut M&Ms, Sweedish fish, girly magazines, Chic-fil-a breakfast, and most importantly- a playlist with all the woman-power Greats: Mariah, Whitney, Martina, Shania...

The weekend was full of relaxing moments. Sunbathing on the deck with the gals (while pretending to read, but really doing a great job at the art of gab instead) earned me my first tanlines of 2014.

The theme of the weekend was "Write Your Story". In our services, women shared their stories in the most honest, candid, vulnerable ways. They shared the good, the bad, the lovely, the ugly, the joyous, the devastating, the exciting, and the unbelievable. These are women that I love and respect; women that I "know" from church. They are Godly women. But somewhere along the way, I forgot that they are real. And they have stories, too.

 There is something unbelievably beautiful when we share our stories together. That is when the glory of The Lord is revealed best- when we show how He has radically changed our lives.

In hearing their stories, I was challenged to form my own; to reflect on the work The Lord has done in me.

 The best part? He's not done with me yet. The healing has just begun.

After LOTS of laughter, and a steady flow of healing tears, we headed home.

I am beyond thankful for the weekend, and for the hard-working and talented women that planned and and executed the retreat. 

My prayer at the end of this retreat was simply this:

"Lord, I give you the pen. Continue to write Your story on my heart."

Oh, and these faces? These were gals that were thrilled to be together, yet giddy to get home to their handsome husbands.

Forever

He's alive!!!

Wow, what an incredible Easter weekend!

I can't stop watching this video.

Every time I listen to the recording or watch this clip, I am overcome with chill bumps.

Forever He is glorified!

Click below, but only if you're ready for the Holy Spirit to rock you!

Kari Jobe "Forever"

hoppy easter

One of my favorite traditions growing up happened on Easter morning. My Mom and Dad... er, the "Easter Bunny"... would hide our Easter baskets somewhere in the house, and my brothers and I would "hunt" for them. We eagerly searched for these goodie baskets! Mom usually filled mine with a new favorite movie, a coloring book, a CD, lip gloss, nail polish, and of course- jewelry to match my new Easter dress. 

Although I am a twenty (plus some) year old woman, my Mama made me a lovely Easter basket while she was in town a couple of weeks ago. It was a complete surprise to have her show up at my office on her way out of down to make a special delivery (my two favorites- surprises and presents!).

Here are the items from my adult Easter basket:

A lovely vase I had been drooling over at Target. I told her about it on the phone, and she bought it!

My... I mean, the husband's... favorite candies. :)

The women in our family love little boxes. It usually means there's something shiny inside!

And there was something shiny inside - a beautiful necklace, adorning my two favorite colors.

This, y'all, is my favorite Easter candy: egg shaped bubble gum is my jam!

And these new white chocolate M&Ms? They're crazy good.



Now, I know that Easter baskets are not the point of celebrating Easter. And maybe it's silly of me to get so excited over a basket full of goodies.

But this means so much more to me.

This basket reminds me that my Mama is thinking about me all the time... literally.
She thinks about me wherever she goes.
She cares for me, and she wants to add a little happiness to my life.
(And it's proof to me that we both have good taste. Ha!)

My Mama and I are not perfect people, and we don't have a perfect relationship. But what is a perfect relationship? We love each other, and there is a beautiful amount of grace that we are learning to extend to one another.

I'm thankful for this. And for the way that she loves me.

The real gift here is her.