My toddler willingly holds my hand. He reaches out and pats my shoulder as we lay in bed next to each other.  Its as if he is waiting for me to reach my hand out to hold his. Its quite simply the sweetest thing and I can't say how thankful I am for this little boy who I get to call mine :)

Dear 27 year old self

I haven't shared for awhile. I look to the side bar and still see that I am sporting being 27 and "enjoying life". HAHAHAHA. I can't wait till you see 29 girl friend, and oh shit you are 30 this year too- gulp. How I wish I could go back and tell my 27-year-old self that, "You think your fat now" speech. Wait until you get pregnant and are able to put an impression of your hand into your tempurpedic feet. You won't fit into jeans anymore and will start investing in yoga pants and will be able to dress them up and down and be really good at it. You will have one pair that makes you feel like a "hot mom" but sadly you got a hole in them. You may or may have not sharpied underneath the hole so you don't look like you live, sleep, and eat in those pants. Had I told you, 27 self hot body self, you would laugh and say, "go buy a new one, or where something else."

Where was I when I was 27? Probably working, staying up late and sleeping in. I would tell her to enjoy that sleep. Sleeping in until 8 is heaven y'all, freaking HEAVEN. Its better than showering alone, enjoying the coffee that is still hot, and the having the kitchen clean. I love those things too but man when you wake up and you don't feel like it is going to be a Daniel Tiger day as you sport yoga pants (yes I wake up in yoga pants and shower and put different yoga pants on- compromise) and a messy mom bun, tell your kid "I'll be there in a minute" and hope he stays busy as you close your eyes and remember how it was like when you took sleep for granted, its going to be a GOOD DAY. So take note you 27 year old self. You take advantage of that sweet bed and those sweet hours, or minutes.

Take the time to invest in your lover, your fiancé, your boo. I wrote spouse and I was thinking, "who uses those terms unless your married?" Like, I am getting to talk like I am old. yuck. Anyway, love them. Show them they matter because after you get married, settle down, and start popping out babies, something happens. And maybe its just my marriage but you start fighting, like a married couple. Its a thing girl, and I am sure you knew you would be in that category since you dance with your emotions, and argue with your stubbornness. So have sex with him, like whenever, wherever and however. Make it sexy because you won't want to after you have a baby. Invest in that man that is laying next to you. GO over there and cuddle and tell him that you are so lucky to have him and that he lives this life with you. Because he needs to know that when 1, 2 ,4 am roll around and you become a tired mom-bie. And he needs to be able to take care of you when you feel unpretty, and un-27.

But MOST of all, please love yourself. And I know its some cliche "you must love yourself before someone loves you" but its true. Say it in the mirror, post sticky notes or quotes on your mirror and read them every SINGLE.DAM.DAY because you need to be reminded. When your almost 30 and are in the spot where you feel lost, depressed and unsure of what you want to do (despite having the master's degree-go you!) you need to have read those and know that you have this squishy little boy that loves you and needs you to be healthy, happy, and okay. Soon life will change 27 year old self, and it will be the most wonderful, scary, and adventurous time of your life. I'll see you there :)

Hold on. Don't let go.

Hold on. Don't let go.

The way the anchor tries to grab the sand, it sinks in deep but with no rocks it glides along the brown sun-kissed earth underneath the deep turquoise water. It continues to slide, like our love. It tries to hold on to whatever it can,yet with no foundation or solid ground it grazes on by, wanting to create stability but not knowing how.

Hold on. Don't let go.

Like the warmth from the fire. You stand close and can feel your soul fill with heat. The back of your legs feel like they were slapped by the sun. The way children did Indian burns on your skin, the fire burns deep, stinging and letting you know your alive. You turn over when you can't take it anymore, warming the front, your shins feeling the warmth build. When you're satisfied you run to the cold bed not wanting to lose the heat. You begin to feel the goosebumps creep onto your skin,  the sheets capturing the heat as it escapes into nothingness. You want the warmth to stay, but it only stays while you are near the flame. You want love to stay warm, the good warmth that soothes your gut like coffee on a cold day. The way the mug brings life to your cold fingertips, little fireflies dance within your veins, bringing life back into the numbness.

Hold on. Don't let go.

Like the leaves that hold onto the tree limbs. They know the end is near as fall sneaks in. It begins slowly, the yellow green that slowly turns into yellow. The sunflower colored leaves then turn the burnt orange that mimics the Arizona sunsets.  It clings on, showing their dances with the cool northern wind sashaying and two stepping with their neighbors. They are hoping that one more day will grace their surface and that they can bathe in the golden hues. Then they turn brown, their partners have fallen to the ground, and the brown leaf is left alone, cold and weak as the first snow starts to fall. It lets go, hanging on is too hard, it drifts off its branch giving its last solo. Twirling, floating, like a ballerina on the stage, showing that even though it's time has come to an end, that the finale was quite simply put, beautiful.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Your hair smells of sweet lavender that was just picked from the field with a dash of vanilla bean that wraps around the stem. Your hair stands on edge like the way cotton candy clings to the cone. It's light and airy like the white clouds before a storm, puffy like cotton balls. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Your lungs rise and fall like the fan you air a fire. Steady as it fuels the flame. The way it fuels your deep belly laugh and the dreams you dream about. Your eyelids flutter like hummingbird wings, the way they gracefully land but never stay long. As they hover so does your hand, making sure it embraces mine. Your tiny fingertips dance along my skin, doing twirls like figure skaters that waltz along the ice. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

A yawn, a deep yawn that brings a little sigh at the end. The sweetest of all sounds. The sound that fills the soul with happiness. The kind of happiness after a long day where you take your shoes off and feel the cool air whisk away the heat, the warm bleached smell of laundry that wraps around your clean body before going to bed and the way the sun heats your body when you come from within a cold building. The yawn captures the depths of my heart. It burrows deep like the mouse that digs in the cold earth creating space that I never knew existed.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Be still my heat. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

And then our breaths match. Like a pendulum that is continuous and steady. His nose which is nuzzled to my neck breathes puffs of milk scented air that is warm like the breaths that warm your hands on a n icy night. His dimpled fingers graze my cheek to make sure I am as close as can be, and when he is assured that I won't move an inch, we fade off into never land.

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

No one tells you!

(FAMILY and anyone that gets grossed out- stop here)

I gave you a warning. I am going to give you one more warning. Don't read on if you get grossed out or think you will get a different view of who Natalie is. Yes I tell it how it is, and well, sometimes, its not the prettiest... so stop here and go get yourself a cup of coffee and read the newspaper.

Okay, here we go, no turning back now.

I got shot today. Not by a bullet. Not by a needle. No, I got shot by mother nature in the vagina. No one warned me about this day. They said it would be gross and that recovery would be hard after a baby, but no one said it would be this hard or that it would happen 4.5 months later.

After having my baby, recovery was a lot easier than I thought. Yes I have a permanent muffin top that I can't feel (if you can't feel it its not really there right? My jeans say differently) and even though I am back down to my pre-baby weight nothing fits anymore...recovery was a breeze. I solely pump and have been able to give my little guy the best of the best. They say you don't get your period while you breastfeed. I almost had a scare around 3 months with spotting so I googled on how to stop that beast in its track. It said start pumping more. So I became a pumper on a marathon, or on speed, or both. I felt I looked like Madonna with the cone boobs. Aint no one telling me what I can and can't do, and mother nature was sure as hell not coming right now.

Karma is a bitch. She is probably one of those sixth sense Gods and read my mind back then. So she came with vengeance, and her goal was to make my life miserable. So she wins and I am yelling "uncle" to her every 30 minutes. She wanted to make it a little better and let my kid have constipation at the same time. I couldn't stop flowing and he couldn't get flowing. It was a loss loss and we were both miserable. I tried everything for both of us. I would lay very still (as still as you can with a 4 month old) and I tried to do everything for that shit to come shooting out his ass (prune juice, bicycle kicks, rubbing his stomach). Nothing was working for either of us.

I almost threw the towel in, and not in my vagina as I seriously thought of (because who the crap can make a bigger tampon that super ultra plus which is just a nicer way to say you got a serious flow issue) and I sat there thinking it couldn't get worse. So here I went, back to the doctor of Google. They said to stick a thermometer up his butt. WALA- at least one of us will be okay. So we did that- I took that kids' temperature 4 times. Each time you could see his butt clench and I got a few good farts that smelled awful (starting solid foods does have its negatives). And then it came, a hard turd followed by mush (kinda reminded me of that one firework thing that starts as a black worm and gets bigger and moves around before dying and turning to a lump of black crap?), and I had what I like to call a poop party where we celebrate the end of crying constipation. I laughed, which then made me have to run to the restroom, then run another load of laundry and then cry uncle once more.

He finally is down, I guess pooping really wears a kid out. And I am sitting on two towels writing this, because aint nobody has time for a fourth load of laundry. No one tells you how hard motherhood is, especially when it comes to this.

Positives of Deployment

7,722 miles

7,722 miles that separate you from me. Not long ago you were just 67 miles away for training. Those 67 miles felt the way Pluto probably feels about being separated from the rest of the planets, too far away. I am not sure how you comprehend distance. When I walk a mile I want to get on a strict no carb-diet, lets try and run every day, and get back in shape because I feel like death walking to my mailbox. But then when walking through the baking isle of the grocery store, the brownies tell me that I am beautiful just the way I am and I don't need to walk any miles... you sneaky bastard. But seriously, I have traveled 8,747 miles to Cape Town, Africa and the only way that I survived was because of Ambien. If I had not had that sweet small white pill that made sleeping in a small seat tolerable, my ass would be begging to walk a mile, heck, maybe even two. *Lets be realistic, probably only a half mile.* Either way, miles seem incredibly long, especially when you are away from the hunk of your dreams for the next 9 months.

They say its going to be hard going through deployment. Some say there are going to be miserable days, and heck, maybe I am in denial right now. My emotions will hit me like all the ladies off of Maury who start bawling because the ghetto man with 24 children is cheating on her. *didn't know that one was coming* I know its there, but it just hasn't hit me yet. So I am trying to look at all the positives right now. 

ONE: I just ate breakfast for dinner. It was marvelous. And I ate it off a paper plate. Dishes done- check :). 

TWO: I have the entire bed to myself. Well, kinda, IF you don't take into account this ropy-poly of a child I have that moves more than a bug that gets stuck on its back that frantically moves its legs around trying to flip itself over. I honestly don't know what 8 hours of sleep is like anymore, so I guess having the whole bed to myself doesn't really mean much if you don't actually get sleep.

THREE: I don't have to shower if I don't want to. My child can't say I smell like throw up because he thinks the sun shines out of my ass, I am his main food source, and oh yes, he's only 4 months old. Yes it bothers me when I keep saying to myself, "dam something smells bad!" It wasn't body odor from my pits or the morning breath... this was different.You should see me looking everywhere in the house for the spoiled milk smell that engulfed me. I am so exhausted from my sleepless nights, that I don't think to look at my shoulder where milk curds are plastered in the shape of a grandma's shoulder pad- its attractive let me tell you. I then look at my kiddo, wishing he could have told me how much of an idiot I am before pulling dishes out of the cupboards, washing my sheets (this needed to be done anyway) and pulling the cushions from the couch in hopes to find the source. He smiles, and attempts to giggle which makes the whole situation humorous. 

FOUR: I don't have to shave. It IS time to shave when your child can pull your leg hairs... just kidding, or am I?

FIVE: Laundry. He hated when I didn't fold the laundry and he would run out of underwear. Yes, sometimes it got that bad. At the time I was VERY pregnant and my ankles, um cankles, were so swollen that I didn't want to do anything except for sleeping, and eating. But now I can hit the refresh button every morning until I get around to it. Whoever invented the refresh cycle on the dryer was a genus. 

SIX: Feeling like a teenager. When you live with someone and see them every evening, you get to the point where seeing them isn't exciting anymore. The gym shorts that you constantly pick up every morning that get covered in dog hair, the chin hairs that grace the sink after just cleaning the bathroom, the pee splatters that never get in the bowl, and the glass of milk left in the sink from the night before that have been paired with the half empty pan of brownies gets tiring. These become habits wives get annoyed with. These "habits" are something I crave to have again. I used to get upset when I wouldn't hear from him while he worked, but now I bounce up and down from getting ONE text message while he is gone. I don't literally bounce up and down, but I get those butterflies that come when you found out in 8th grade a boy thought you had pretty hair and wanted to "go out with you" (aka sit next to you at lunch- oh sweet young love). 

I miss the crap out of him, and I would walk 7,722 miles if it meant I could be with him. It would probably take me 9 months to do, or more since I am not good at math, but he's worth it. I'd bitch probably the whole way because Natalie doesn't exercise, and brownies and I would get into a tiff, but the man is sure worth the walk and my oh my I'd look good after it!

My little superstar

I can still see his smile.
4 am, I knew he would start singing his favorite song, followed by "NATALIE?"
I would go over to his door and and wait patiently, hoping that he would doze back to neverland.
Natalie?
Yes, Joseph, I am right here.
Can you read to me?
Its late, can you try to sleep?
Can I have a banana?
You have to wait 15 minutes.
Then can you sit by my door?
Sure bud.

And I would sit there, listening to my slow mix of music playing in the milieu, Joseph occasionally humming along. I would tell him once he started to try and go to sleep and he would be quiet for a few minutes then start humming again. How I wish now that I could have listened to him hum those songs.

I listen to the songs now, a playlist that reminds me of him and I come to tears. His smile and his laugh. The way we would do a parachute while making his bed. The way I stood by the bathroom door singing twinkle twinkle little star while he brushed his teeth. He would come over to me and get right up to my nose and breathe and ask me if his breath smelled good. I would say "eww" and he would laugh so hard. He would ask for his "man spray" which was axe, and spray his neck and to his request his backpack. He would ask if he smelled good and I would say "eww, you smell like a boy" and he would come and give me a big hug. The scent would linger on my clothes the rest of the day.

I remember how he pulled tooth and nail. Yelling and kicking. It took months to get to the point where he wouldn't yell and slam the door if I wouldn't stand by it. I would go home from work crying some days wishing that I had a different job.

But then there was a day when a ton of motorcycles came to work bringing gifts and this little boy who would yell and never want to be with me, held tight to my hand and clung to my side. He was so scared, the fear was shown through his eyes, and I walked him back inside.

He and I sat on the couch, he layed his head on my arm. Joseph who was scared of so much was  able to let me in. How grateful and powerful it was.

The days got easier and laughter was a very common thing with Joseph and I. A six year old that could dance oddly but see the true joy from his feet, and the way he would read me book after book and proud that he brushed his teeth without me asking. He would give me a hug before going to school and always said he missed me when I returned that evening for work.

He then said he loved me in the sweetest voice ever. "Miss Natalie?"
Yes bud?
I love you.

And that was all I needed to know that a little boy who time after time was shown the world was a difficult place was able to see that there was still some sunshine left in the sky.

Love you superstar. xo

Coffee

Coffee.

Sip me gently, for some days I am hot. Let me rest in your hands warming your fingers as you inhale the steam. Blow sweet whispers across the cup, to bring me to the right temperature, warm as it soothes your soul but cool enough to take a big sip.

Set me down, and enjoy the taste, the way I linger on your tastebuds. Enjoy the ambiance, the way the sounds hesitate, the way daylight sneaks upon your shoulders. As the glowing morning warms you, so will I, creeping through your blanket that you hold against you.

Treasure me, keep me close and drink me every morning. I will wake you and stir your insides. I will make you want to do things you have no energy to do, and direct you towards performing. I will let you know that when I wear off, that I am all you desire to keep you going and what you look forward to. 

When you're done drinking, remember that I will wait for you tomorrow morning. 

I BELIEVE...

That rain washes away the hurt, the dirt that sits on top that needs to be washed away.

That dreams do come true when you wish upon a star, and that shooting stars mean your lucky.

Dogs understand the hurt you carry in your heart and will ease it, even if it means sitting by your side.

A fresh manicure makes you feel clean and sophisticated.

Christmas lights make me shine inside, my soul dancing to Sinatra.

Fresh clean sheets and a showered body are one of the best combinations.

That love notes and flowers make any girl smile.

A whisper in your ear telling you your beautiful even if its the hundredth time, still feels like the first time.

The fireworks that looks like glittering dragonflies is the best way to celebrate.

Love means everything, and is often overused, but when you feel love, love can't describe anything compared to what you feel.

Cleaned house, leave room to clear your brain.

Guy cologne on your bed spritzed is almost like having a man by your side.

I believe Santa, and the fairy-godmother, and the easter bunny.

That Christmas should be celebrated every month of the year.

That no girl should settle. A man that was made JUST for you is hunting and not settling either because he knows you are out there, waiting to make you feel just the way you have dreamed.

That children are heaven sent and when they say they love you, they mean it.

Coffee every morning is the right way to start a day.

God has a plan for me, and even if I stray he will lead me back to him.

Summer sunsets and glimmering water, paints the prettiest picture.

Assholes make you appreciate the gentleman.

When your gas tank is full, you feel like your car is brand new.

Buttery-nipples were made by a man who knew what he wanted and knew how to get um.

That lyrics to the song can say what your feeling inside perfectly and that you could have written it.
That clearance and sales racks were made just for my wallet.

I believe that you and I can make it, because you helped me believe in me. 

Love Equation

Love was as simple as 1, 2, 3.
It began with you. And then I added me. I thought this was the easiest question I would ever have to answer.

Then there was the fractions. The fraction of self doubt, will he stay with me forever, will he love the true me and will he understand the emotions that continually come to the surface.

Trying to divide to make it easier, I came up with decimal points. The little periods that come in between numbers that made me question whether or not the fractions and dividends were even the same. The wanting to chase your dreams but wondering if the dream of him is something worth chasing. The way the friendly hellos to others only meant that, and not that he was losing faith in "us."

So I added a y, and a x, to try and figure out the missing piece to find out what love had to do with a confused heart. I moved the love to the other side, more kisses, more "I love you's" and then moved over the confused heart to the other side hoping that it was a waking up on the wrong side of the bed kind of thing.

When that didn't work I decided to square everything, making the numbers larger, harder to work with. If it was too hard to work with then I could move onto the next question. Let it go and decide to come back to it later.

And then you came back along. Having the answer to the equation. The one little thing that the question was missing.... you wanting me.

Dogs looking like their owners, or the other way around

The saying dogs look a lot like their owners rang true to me when I pulled up next to a guy at the light. I usually people watch which gets me in trouble, I stare and then most of the time the person and I make eye contact which makes me immediately turn to pretend that akward moment we had didn't happen.

Anyway, I was at this light and noticed this guy.

Normally I would think much of him. But then I noticed who dog who has the same exact facial expression as him, I knew it was fate as I started racking up the similarities. This guy had a bottom lip that was bigger and he had the same exact pout. It was fate.

The picture is hard to see because as I was taking the picture when we met the inevitable "eye" connection and frantically started pretending I was searching for signal on my iphone.... smart move natalie. I am sure he knew exactly what I was doing.

There was also this dog that used to run around our neighborhood in Michigan. This dog used to scare the crap out of me.

Just imagine having 12 acres of land and then seeing this dog come out of the weeds and start barking while you are having your adventures picking apples and such. I remember running and this dog chasing after me. It was like a bear that barked and drooled. 

So after finally learning that if I ran towards the dog it would high tail it out of there I decided that I would keep chasing it. I ended up chasing it home to find this in a girl version.

I couldn't help but think that somewhere down the line that this person thought they were meant to be. I could go on and on how different people resemble their dogs, heck, they even have events where people dress like their dog. I mean it worked Lady GaGa didn't it? Her dog looks real happy :)

Is it true?!

How do you know they are the one? Is it the countless kisses that are placed on your forehead, the way butterflies dance in your heart and toes and stomach all at the same time? The way you want to be with the person all the time and even when they are laying next to you they still feel to far away.

Is it the small things like the toothbrush that is sitting next to yours, or the shower wash or the way they like cold water instead of room temperature. The way he sleeps his hand on his chest, the way the sun hits his tattoos in the morning and the way he has to have one foot outside of the sheets. The way he doesn't pay attention to your favorite movie because he is watching you in excitement of watching the favorite scene for the fifth time.

Or is it the big things. The waiting until its the right moment. The way he believes family is his soul and  trust is the most important thing. The one that wants you to chase your dreams and will wait for you no matter how long it takes because you are worth the wait.

Or the in-betweens, where compromise happens and he knows your stubborn as a horse so he lets you win and lets you go to bed like a raging bitch and when he smiles that crooked smile you know that he has got you hooked.

I am not sure when you know when the person is the one. The one worth fighting for and the one you can't wait to love for the rest of your life. I hope when the one does come around that there wont be any question, but that the one question that will be answered if he is or not is simply, "Yes."

he whispers in my ear, like the waves from the ocean that kisses the beach, moving slowly and then pulling back to the sea, he lays down on the white comforter, as I lay my head down.

he pulls me in, like you pull a sleeping bag to your chin as the shivery breeze caresses your forehead, warm under the silky material that engulfs your legs, creating goosebumps from the two different temperatures.

he sweeps my hair out of my eyes, the worker hands that are rough against my skin that glides so easily and sends butterflies to every part of my heart, the way the roller-coaster makes your stomach flip and makes you happy and nervous all at the same time.

he talks of his stories and his voice carries me to the place where he was, the passion and shaken up world that makes you want to hold him tighter.

he said "you're beautiful" and everything in me that tried to say no, let go, and I knew he meant it, truly, the way the sun will caress the sky every morning, and the way coffee warms your stomach.

Saturday afternoon Naps

Afternoon Naps.

As a little child living in Arizona, afternoon naps were the best. I remember Saturday mornings, my dad in his cut off jeans that were splattered with white paint and frayed at the bottom. His brown sperry's that had the same pattern of white paint. A worn t-shirt, usually white that sported his company on the front. This was his Saturday attire which meant that he would be out in the backyard finding something that needs to be fixed, altered or something he went to Home Depot for and came back with a new project.

The mornings would be cool and I would help dig, stand by, or mostly get in the way of my father hauling dirt, rocks, or bricks. I'd do my best to look like I was a big help. As the project wore on the sun started blazing, the flies coming out to bother and the breeze coming to a stop. My father would go in around lunchtime, grab a big glass of water and a bowl of bean soup and sit on the floor in the living room watching football. I distinctly remember his smell, that would be of sweat and some type of soap and look at his hands, white blisters forming from digging a hole. I was so proud of my dad.

As he would finish his lunch, I knew he was going to go back out. Between the football and the exhaustion of sun, a nap was more in my mind then going back out.

My room was purple with a wallpaper border in the middle with dancing bunnies. The room was darker then normal as my dad would go around the house before going out to save energy. My bed, white with ruffles was made and my purple striped pillows sitting nicely on the bed. I would lay down and see the dust float in the room where my blinds let in a little light, rows of dust particles dancing in the light. I could hear the air conditioning click on and my little mermaid sheets clung onto the Johnson Baby shampoo I had used last night. My baby blanket was cool from the air, worn to silk, and I would bury my face into it and breath in the scent of wash detergent. I would hear my mother doing something in the kitchen and I felt an overwhelming sense of comfort. As I would close my eyes, I could hear my father mowing the lawn. Saturday afternoon naps were the best.

blessed

to have a wonderful family

two dogs that love to snuggle

pumpkin spice flavor in my coffee

crafty-ness

a brain in my head and a passion in my heart

warm showers

delicious curly fries

best friends

flowers on my nightstand

christmas music

lights that twinkle

mom

dad

fall leaves that dance in the wind

soft sheets from the dryer

kids that tell you they love you

candles

you

coconut passion perfume on my wrists

dreams

♡

you are here.

You are where I want you most to be. Deep down where the ice still covers the broken-ness. Where the veins that intertwine, twisting in knots where you can't untangle them. Where the toes are so numb that they burn, and the tips of your fingers are white as snow. Your somewhere amongst the "I can't believe you" and "I hate you's" that really mean you want one more time where your lips are against mine and I can taste your sweet breath. One more time to try and escape the dungeon where your broken heart lays, to feel the weakness of your stomach like nightingales that flutter around your head as he slips his fingers through your hair and whispers "I love you".

But you're there, where permafrost and numbing arctic chills go and a hoping for a spring breeze to turn the tide.

The happiest time of year....

I find myself resorting back to the happiest part of my life... Christmas. All I want for Christmas, Silent Night and the voices of Nat King Cole and Michael Buble.

The mistletoe candles are lit and I can close my eyes and see the lights twinkling on the tree, the hand-made ornaments that sparkle with red and green glitter with an old fashioned red ribbon. The Christmas tree with levels from the height of us kids scattered with our own ornaments. Mine being the middle and my brother and sister weighing down the bottom of the tree, like a sagging ladies boobs, the tree hangs from the bottom filled with the proud hangings from the kids the other parts bare.

Its the happiest I see my mother. The reason the family gets together. The reason my dad lingers in the kitchen showing us how to cook a turkey. The smells linger in the air and you hear the laughter carry throughout the home. The music in the background as we warm our pillows by the fire, running to the room and laying down quickly feeling the almost too hot cotton on your face, the smell of the laundry detergent whispering in your nose.

The cartoons on the tv, 25 days of Christmas, Rudolph reminding you how wonderful being a kid is. The way children look up to see the decorations, their eyes gleam a little brighter. The mittens that are worn from throwing snowballs and making disfigured snowmen. The advent calendar that grandma and grandpa would buy that had little chocolates behind them.

The way family seems to gather in the living room, where the tree, the fire, and warm christmas colored blankets invite you in. The laughter that comes from watching family 'peter' movies. We are all happy, embracing the season. Christmas is the happiest part of the year. Especially for me.

Stupid.

I often take walks with my dogs on most nights. For awhile there has been some rain in texas, which is crazy and there is a stream that when it rains brings a little river thing. I often walk through the water and notice life swimming among it. Little tadpoles and fish where the water is deeper. As the Texas heat gets hotter the rain goes away and the little creek dries up. I also figured and imagined the fish going with the water to wherever it may go, until tonight.

I thought there was a little pond of water left, something shimmery caught my eye, and being the adventurer I am went over to see it. There was a small little water standing and all the fish had gathered there. There little gills were gasping for breath. There were about 70 of them all huddled next to each other literally soaking up the last water around.

My first instinct was to pick them all up and put them in my bathtub. Save them. I felt a deep sense of hopeless-ness for them, wanting to save them from their misery. As I went more near to give in to my curiosity the flies picked up and flew around me as I had startled them from the dying stench.

I am not sure what came into me but I left and for a minute I thought, "stupid fish." And then of course my mind thought, this would be the perfect blog. A perfect place to put what lesson I could learn from these fish. And of course I could come up with numerous. "Keep swimming", "Don't be stuck", "This is what your life looks like now."

I just kept thinking, Stupid.

And that's my life lesson, as much as I wanted to save them, for right now I am thinking. Stupid.

Beating of a drum...

My second day, said read Romans 8:1-17. and describe the war: the characteristics of those who follow the Spirit of God versus those who live according to their flesh.

I always see people writing verses somewhere, on their Facebook status, a tattoo, or some random place. Just the Luke 3:4 or Palms 34. So I am going to write below Romans 8:1-17 so you know what I read.

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death. For what the law was powerless to do in that it was weakened by the sinful nature, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful man to be a sin offering. And so he condemned sin in sinful man, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fully meant in us, who do not live according to the sinful nature but according to the Spirit.

Those who live according to the sinful nature have their minds set on what that nature desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. The mind of the sinful man is death, but the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace,, the sinful mind is hostile to God. It does not submit to God's law, nor can it do so. Those controlled by the sinful nature cannot please God.

You however, are not controlled by the sinful nature but by the Spirit, if the Spirit of God lives in you. And if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ. But if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, yet your spirit is alive because of your righteousness. And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit, who lives in you.

Therefore brothers, we have an obligation, but it is not to the sinful nature, to live according to it. For if you live according to the sinful nature, you wil die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live, because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship, And by him we cry Abba, Father. The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. No if we are children. then we are heir, heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory."

Holy crap, and all of that meant what? I sit here trying to separate all of the Spirit stuff and to tell you the truth it is overwhelming. But I get what it meant that there are two wars. The stuff led by the spirit and the stuff led by the flesh.

I find myself giving into my daily flesh desires every day. Giving myself to guys when my spirit self is urging me to come back. Like tug a rope, my fleshly desires give in and when I am done for the night, literally used up, I come back asking why my Spirit desires didn't pull harder.

I read in the study guide it says we each have two drums, one beating rapidly and selfishly and the other drum "beats with God's heart. The new drum can overcome the old one, but the old drum must die first."

And that is basically where I am looking at God, or telling him, I sure as hell like the way my drum beats. I know the rhythm that makes me happy and I know the dents and the curves to the base. Why would I want to give up my freedom to hit my own drum? Why would I go into the unknown and risk everything for you drum? True my life here aint a bowl of honey and flowers but I am so stubborn that being stuck seems easier then going to be somewhere where I don't know.

stuck. There is the word that this whole entire book is about. Am I truly ready to be unstuck? Because I know being stuck has had baggage and if I don't have baggage who am I really?

Stuck and Broken

I am starting this study thing with my missional community but haven't been able to attend the last two times. Instead of doing it in the book I am doing it on here. Keeping myself honest, and also to keep the book clear of writing since if this book is amazing I will want to pass it along. So here we go.

"It begins with admitting we need Him. We're broken.  So we begin here in the most vulnerable but freeing spot...

we are broken."

It then asks to write three places that you feel most stuck...

1). I feel stuck not knowing the future and trying to figure all of it out in one day.
2) I feel stuck in relationships and slipping into relationships that don't have God as #1.
3) I feel stuck in having the fear that I will never have the strong relationship with God that I so desire.

As I am falling asleep, I realize that I have more then just 3 things where I feel I am stuck. These were just the first 3 I felt were on my heart this evening.