I’m 34 today! I’ve arrived at another birthday and oh my GOLLY, am I grateful for more life. I’d had a feeling that 33 was going to be a big year. I’m not sure why—maybe it’s because I’ve gone to church my entire life and so the age of 33 sticks out to me as the age Jesus was when He left this earth. 33 was a memorable age for him so why couldn’t it be the same for me? And it was. I spent half of my year pregnant, growing the baby girl who I will finally get to meet within the first couple . . .
Last year, my husband and I had grand plans for New Year's Eve. Don't get me wrong, we had no intention of leaving the house, but maybe that's why we thought it was all so grand. We bought a couple of quality steaks and planned to pop open a bottle of red wine we had picked up in Napa Valley the year before. We would have a warm, quiet, delicious ending to 2016. When the day came, however, my husband wasn't feeling very well. His head cold grew worse as the day went on and we ended up . . .
As you know, my husband and I moved across town just before Christmas. The apartment we left was the first one we shared together as husband and wife. We moved into it freshly married—6 weeks, in fact—and 2,000 miles away from what we considered “home.” Two years later, we’ve left that apartment with a dog in tow and a baby on the way. Our lives expanded in that little home. We began the lifelong adventure of figuring out how to love each other well and how to respect one another’s quirks. We . . .
Last week I turned on the Today Show, as I typically do, and immediately noticed Matt Lauer’s absence. “He must be sick,” I thought, and went on with my morning. Several minutes later, I saw the headlines begin to populate my Facebook newsfeed. He was sick alright. Lauer had been fired for inappropriate sexual behavior in the workplace. My stomach sunk. Was I shocked? Immediately, yes, because there is a shock factor when someone is at work one day, in their twentieth year on the job, and . . .
My latest post at Red Tent Living is up! You can find it here. The Unfiltered World The morning after the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing, I went downstairs to find the kitchen table strangely empty. I’d grown used to seeing the Chicago Tribune scattered by section across the table, my parents taking turns picking through each segment. On this day in April, however, the typically bulky newspaper was quite lean. Curious, I asked my Mom what had happened to the rest of the newspaper. Though she . . .
I nearly skipped down the big steps leading to the front of the venue. I was laughing and making jokes with a friend, giddy with excitement that this day—the wedding day of my dear friends—was finally here. A few members of the wedding party sat in the seats that would soon be taken by friends and family. I continued laughing lightheartedly, about to greet the small group with a hearty hello before suddenly noticing their tears and somber tone. Immediately, I felt snapped back to the reality of . . .