seven letters.

It has been awhile since I've written. Not that there hasn't been anything to say, but in actuality... where does one truly start?

In the past four years this forum has served as a space for me to ramble about how much I love my friends, how much I love my God, what I'm learning, and to vent through what I've been hurting about and through.

Some posts I can look back to read and I am instantly brought to the same place- minus the version of me articulated. It's amazing to have a collection of pieces written that stamp a time on an experience and moment. It helps me to see without a shadow of doubt that God is working in my midst.

What I'd like to say this morning. Is that I have known great. True. Real. Unwavering Love. It has come in forms and mysteries that I can only attribute to God's Grace and masterful hand.

Last Thursday after tripping outside my house on the 3rd floor I walked inside paralyzed by anxiety that I severely injured my not yet healed feet, and sat on the couch. Krystal told me that there was a surprise in the kitchen. I went over to it.

Stretched out on the counter were letters, and a few pictures. The notes ranged in of themselves with scripture, encouragement, greetings and salutations. And oozed. With love. So much you couldn't miss it. Each one was written by a friend I have at church that I've been hanging out with since I started going to Salem Chapel. They touched on things that they appreciate about me, who I am, and how thankful that I am here.

I think the most impressing part of this act of love and friendship is that it was solely conceived and executed by Justin. Upon reading all of them, and talking to some friends that had contributed I was so touched by the thought, time, enthusiasm, and care he put into this idea, and why. What was the purpose the letters were to serve? Encouragement. Affirmation. For Kari.

Jeff's made me laugh out loud when describing my lotion expertise being unparalleled.

Carolyn's handwriting reminded me of a friend I've had for decades, and it spoke true to what Barb would have said.

KP's was to the point, and I love that.

Kim Shu expressed a desire for more friendship. More fun. I'm totally in for that idea.

Sarah was thoughtful and expressed her gratitude for 'the breath of fresh air' that I have been.

Justin was funny in his pictures, but his note responded to my honesty, albeit brutal or awkward at times but still working at life together.

Each one could have been written by someone I have known my entire life. They were that personal, and poignant.

Letters are my most favorite thing. Perhaps because it was the sole form of communication between a parent I did not know outside of that format my entire life. It could also be in part because the world will throw in your face an untrue importance on earthly possessions, but the only thing that truly matters is the nature and condition of your heart.

How are you loving people in your lives well?

How are you reaching out into what you may believe will be difficult conversations, to show that the way you feel matters more then the fear of the unknown?

God has His love for us written in the Scriptures.

It is one big message of love. Sacrifice. How to live. What to say. Who to be.

Love is everywhere.

And I will be the first to admit that in failure, hurt, or tears that its sometimes impossible to see and acknowledge. I consider it a true sense of maturity and growth that in the midst of a hurtful conversation with Mandy yesterday, that I was still able to see and know the truth of what love is, supposed to do and be, and how my life has ben centered around that with transparency, hope and optimism, but also because of which has left me sensitive to the lack of love and friendship by others.

This morning I woke up and stared outside from the comfort of layers of sheets and bedding.

Gracie perched on the edge of my bed gazing out at the same spance of trees.

I just thought about versions of people I have known, and versions of me I have been.

I thought about things I wanted to yell, scream, and say.

I thought about how deeply thankful that I am living the life God intended for me, which only came at the release of everything I thought it was supposed to look like. A daily submission of control, a hourly reminder I am not ever able to understand God's total picture and plan.

I thought about how love is a choice.

I thought about how some people change and you never see them again.

I thought about how much love is there, everywhere. In our midst. In our souls.

I thought about a stack of letters that no longer have a home here, and I thought about the new additional 7 that do.

I thought about God a lot. "I will get glory" ex. 14:17, and how because of hardship and celebrations He can and does.

I thought mostly of gratitude that Mandy fought for me when it mattered most, and chased down the window to make sure I knew that I was loved, known and cared for in a single phone call yesterday.

And then the letters. That came days ago but still have such a wonderful glow to them as they have affirmed in me over and over again.

Thank you Jesus.

For all the boxes packed that never went anywhere else.

But came here.

When it was time.

I love you.

(25 seconds)

Since I last wrote I have celebrated Christmas.

Taken 150+ ornaments down from the ceiling at work.

I prepared to surprise the girls in Roanoke by attending a party that Kait was throwing.

I was also getting things together for Matt and Seth to arrive in Winston later that same weekend.

The Lord. However, had some tricks up his sleeves.

When I got into my car on the way home to Roanoke, I saw two voicemail messages. The first, Matty. The second, Seth. How strange two years later can feel like. I listened to Matt explain that he was being admitted to UVA. I calmly noted his lack of panic, and put myself in line with his tone. Then I listened to Seth. Which in hindsight sort of makes me laugh now, but at the time, all I could think of was how thankful I was that I heard Matt's message first.

I called them both back, and had good conversations. Obviously with Matt being admitted into the hospital, that meant he wasn't coming. Seth and I talked through viable options for our reunion- and settled in the end to leave things as they were. I was going to see Matty the next day, and had to return home to work- before his scheduled visit to me.

I sat quietly in the car for awhile. I called my brother and told him. I called Mandy to make sure she had heard from Matt. I texted a couple of people. I felt settled that I had done what I should, knowing that we didn't know much. I debated and thought about another phone call or two. Not quite sure.

Memories began to flood of a 25 second phone call I received a very hot August day from Tex, while I was hanging out in Roanoke. I remember everything about it. I remember I was standing outside Barnes and Noble. That I didn't cry. Not a tear. I remember I called my mother immediately after, and asked her to communicate with the family what was happening. I remember sitting in the backseat of Tex's car, as he picked me up to drive to the Hospital together with the Lexington crew. I remember the phone call coming in saying that Matt had made it to Roanoke on the helicopter. I remember the pause before I knew he had arrived safely that I thought he had died. It was a heavy. Long. Tormented pause.

I also remember all of the things I thought about in the car. I thought about meeting Matt in 2003 and how much of my life in Virginia was changed when we became friends. I scanned through thousands of images and memories with this friend, and I held onto one thing in my conversation with Christ, "I'm not ready."

A pained and traumatic moment came when his beloved parents arrived from Harrisonburg. Tex and I followed Fetzer downstairs so that he could park their car. Carol approached me weeping and asked if he was alive. Was Matthew alive? I crumbled. I said yes, and she collapsed into my arms. I have never in my life experienced something like that. Never. The day brought light and hope that Matt was going to recover, he was going to be ok. The trauma then would take an emotional and mental toll. The physical was being healed. Monitored.

That first night I sat quietly in a corner of the hospital. Deep and dark in thought. Finally able to begin the process of peeling back the layers of the day. I remember sitting there. I remember having fixated on a light coming from a building down below on the street.

One way that Chad loved Tex and I incredibly well was that, he drove all of our friends home. Tex and I left that night and drove to Sonic- neither of us having eaten anything in hours. We sat and we talked. And cried. And stared out into the night.

Nothing in my life was quiet the same after that night. It was the beginning of a really, truly, dark and tormented year. Two months later Tex moved to Oregon. And despite the visits I took to him there, I wasn't yet strong enough to handle all that those visits would entail. My family life fell apart, and I consequently found- the bottom. A dark, twisted, difficult and hard place. Yet somehow, in the midst of orphans in China, I was able to come back up. I came back up for air.

Life since then has been a wonderfully poignant and profound journey forward. At times I admit I fought it, and battled against what would come, what needed to happen, or what I felt should- because I deemed it more uncertain and terrifying then that which I was already entrenched. However, the Lord kept His promises- as always. And I was continue to be tenderly healed from a broken heart in light of so many difficult circumstances.

Walking into UVA last week. I was thankful that a)there had been no trauma that discovered the infection for Matt. and b) he was not in Roanoke, but in a new and different hospital. I led with humor and lightness walking into Matty's hospital room, after having a tough moment alone in the elevator with my thoughts. "Seriously?" we laughed. I spent a few hours there, and then when he went in for testing, Carol walked me downstairs.

We stood and shared. Hindsight. Concerns. Memories. She noted how hard things had been after the cardiac arrest- in my life. She spoke of it with tenderness. I responded with transparency- "I didn't realize that, was when- it started to spiral out of control." We talked about how different we all are now. Different parts of the country. Her grand babies. Perspective and caution. And sometimes fear. One thing I noted was just how much more accepting I was of the path. The journey. I was thankful I could spend the short time with Carol in a hospital hallway able to acknowledge the differences between now and then.

The biggest and most tenderhearted thing I realized in the car on my way to Roanoke Thursday night was, and well on my way to UVA the next morning was never, never, thought or spoke, "I'm not ready." I think I could hear the angels in Heaven when I noticed that statement had never been considered.

I'm never going to be ready. But that is not the source of that statement.

The source and meaning behind it, is that: I love Jesus. Totally and entirely with every part that my sinful self will allow. I trust Him. I trust that He loves Matt, has a whole plan and purpose for Matt. I believe and know that Matt loves Jesus. We are all covered in more Grace then we could possibly every comprehend. I don't need to ready myself to lose Matt, or lose anyone. I have to continue to prepare and assert my heart to Christ the Father to do His thing- and I will trust it.

I love Matt more then I could ever explain to another human being. It's pure. It's familial.

We have been friends a long. long. time. Our friendship has survived where others have not.

He is in my future. Forever.

I know that I love my siblings that same way.

There's nothing I wouldn't do for Matty. Nothing. Even if it meant giving him my own heart.

The blessing is that, when you love someone that much, and that way- and you know Jesus.

You know.

It's all going to work out according to His plan and purpose.

So I have somehow learned in the 2 1/2 years between hospital stays that I am invited into this friendship with Matt here on earth, but that the real party is in Heaven. I can't control if, how, or when. I can only trust in Jesus to ease my concerns, my anxieties, to be my source of strength. And Love Jesus enough to accept whatever hurt may come to walk confidently in the direction of the unknown- to be vulnerable with in my hurts. Because. Life. Just hurts sometimes- and to celebrate the gifts of friendship he has given to me here. in the now.

There is joy.

Wonderful. Bright. Joy.

Thankful to know that more today then I did yesterday- but mostly for being able to walk into a hospital on my own.

Strong enough. Prepared. Able.

Not needing a single hand on my back to lead the way.

I can.

We can.

I am.

We are.

Living with joy and hope in Jesus.

Life is good. Better. Then I thought possible even in the beginning of a very hard year, that began: two and a half years ago with a single 25 second phone call.

He's Waiting

Sometimes I wish that everyplace that I look, and at every task I am trying to complete came with a post it note that said, "take pause. here."

I don't want to miss Christmas. Especially now that I'm decorating my house, wanting to contribute to my community with Holiday Cheer (having house dinner Christmas WAY early was smart for this over tired and exhausted girl).

What I've been learning a lot about, and what I am thankful about is that, here. At the edge. Of exhaustion. Myself. The task. The day. The season. My heart. My mind. Is sometimes the only place I remember to lean back, to lean in, and to give up all my ambitions, desires, and intentions to- Jesus. I can decorate, exchange gifts, and "add" onto the Tree and Season with my offerings.

But the ONLY thing that matters does not require a bow, a cookie, a meal, or a tree.

Jesus asks for my heart. My time. My focus. My energy. My exhaustion. He waits. And waits. Knowing that the choices I will make that will pull me in directions that will not nourish me, and knowing what burdens I will carry before I give them up.

And he waits.

In a manger. Under a dark sky lit with one bright, holy divine star.

He waits for me. He waits for you.

He waits. And we spend so much time and energy focusing on every other tradition, detail, requirement, hope, and wish. That we forget the only one that gives us life, that brings true relationship, secures our eternities, and quenches every dream and wish- is waiting. For our time. For us.

I have 3 days. Two more working days before Christmas Day. I have learned so much this Holiday Season with the stresses, and the work load, and the 75 people I help manage and lead... that a moment, a breather, a conversation outside of the context of the task is encouraging and life giving when the to do list is endlessly long.

At the end of myself and this season I am thankful to be reminded of in small moments and in bigger hopes and plans- that the only thing I need, the only thing He wants, is my heart. All of it. For always.

Sometimes it just takes having no other personal strength or perspective left, to see that one bright one star- in what feels like a very long dark night.... to bring me back home, lift my heart up, and to enjoy that relationship fully, because He's waiting. For it, for me. Forever.

holiday decor.

My sister decorates her house in excess. She claims that its almost as if Christmas Threw Up on her house.

I could not be more different.

I have never decorated for the Holiday. Never bought a big ole tree. Nope.

Explaining this in years past I would just leave it simply with "I'm never home for Christmas". But the truth is, I just couldn't do it. Somewhat of a Scrooge, and a tenderhearted girl to family moments and traditions lost in the space between siblings, and dissolve of my parents marriage.

Last year was different. I sat through Crossroads' (Mandy's Church in Ohio), and wept through their production of Awaited (Their Christmas Show). Like seriously. Cried through nearly the entire thing. Their song "We Three Kings" unglued me. At the seams. I could not control how often the tears dropped. I had been searching. For a very long time. For something. In the midst of that performance, I was able to see without question or obstructed vision. That the Star. I have traveled so far. Both literally and figuratively. He had the power to give me sight. He restored me, in my weakness- in my hurt. The movement of the dancers, and the singular star that was positioned above them. Took my breath completely away.

We three kings.

Have traveled so far.

Through fields and mount

In pursuit of the star

And we with humanity, seek to find

What lies beyond the earth and sky...

Dreamers, three

Unsettled are we

No truth, we find

Or love that sets free

But whisper has come to our ears from afar

To rise and follow this star

Star of wonder

Star at night

Reach Reach Reach for the Star

Star of wonder

Star at night

Star of wonder, star at night...

Reach. Reach. Reach.

Oh, star of wonder star at night

Star of wonder. Star at Night.

You have the power to, to give us sight

To feed the hungry. Restore the weak.

Are you the one, for which, we seek?

We three kings. Have traveled so far.

Abandoned all.

For the sake of this star.

My heart had begun to change while in China, about what does a family look like- what will my traditions be for my children one day- how do you truly honor God in your relationships, etc... my hardened and burdened heart for my own lost traditions began to open wide so that they could be healed. Newness was not replacing beloved favorite memories, but it was helping move a very stubborn foot forward.

I am in the midst of the most stressful season of my professional life. I have had these seasons before. I would get lost into them. They were an excuse for not participating. I was able to hide.

Now that I'm here, and have hung 150 plus ornaments from the ceiling at work, I was sort of at a loss for the desire my heart had to decorate my own home. I wanted my own tree. While at brunch after Church a few weeks ago I shared this. I shared how the Lord has changed and worked in my heart in this regard. Justin suggested that at house dinner the following week, everyone would come bearing an ornament to decorate my tree. I would have a tree. And it would be decorated in friendship. Amazing. When I set my tree up I started rustling through drawers and boxes locating ornaments given to me in the past. Tiffany's was from Emily last year. Diet Coke was found somewhere awhile back- I bought it in hope that it would find its true home on a tree, just didn't know when. Up! Was purchased when they released the first Hallmark Pixar Series (I hang out with K.Piper alot, she enlightened me in this regard). It was funny to me how I'd had about half a dozen ornaments for a tree I never planned on ever having. God is funny that way.

My front door has a Wreath that Kim, my Winston BFF MADE herself. I love it. It's perfect. There are stories on the tree. A globe I found to represent all the times I've been around the world- and how now. Here. Now. Home. Is what matters most.

A home that now houses a tree.

My very first. True. Decorated and beloved tree.

I love the light it casts in the dark night- but also as the sun sets and the glow of the lights reflects on the framed photographs on the wall.

Pictures are below. Including Gracie next to her most favorite new thing. Sitting close, and near to the splendor and joy that is Christmas here. It's like she was waiting the whole time for it to come. She looks at her stocking and sniffs it, and then she sleeps next to the lights. I love it.

feeling better.

Never underestimate the feeling of being healthy. Like no more sniffling, sneezing, coughing, or headaches. I have been sick before, like in the span of my life obviously. But I've never been hit so hard back to back in the span of three weeks. The flu was awful, but the bronchial illness was enough to make my heart sad.

But the healing does come. And something even better returns- ease. Today I returned to work after two whole wonderfully purposed days off. I Christmas decorated (more on that later), I shopping for some misc. gifts, I prepped for House Dinner here tomorrow night, I hung out with Kristyn a lot, and I laughed, talked, texted, caught up, and just loved it.

I returned to work laughing at the banter of the afternoon Alexis and I shared, and began my day with Ed. Whom makes me smile and brings me out of my sometimes over focused on the details in the work place. He was visiting us to help us out while Danielle is out resting her back which she injured this week.

I mention all of this because it was marvelous to come home tonight, to sit and begin to reflect on the day and acknowledge that I feel better. The day was better. It should be important to mention that I love my job, and I love the people I work with- and even in the midst of illness I still love my job, and I still love the people I work with. But today was definitely the FUN that I'd been missing.

So. I will try and rest, and recoup. In typical fashion the next few days are manic and jam packed with work, a dinner party, work, and a flight to NYC!, and a football game, and a Family Christmas celebration early, and a flight BACK home... to work.

But I will love it all.

Especially now that my fever is gone. My coughing has stopped.

I can breathe and laugh and not hyperventilate... and its fun. Again.

Yay.

thankful.

the girls.

favorite picture from Thanksgiving.

From the moment Winston-Salem came on the scene Matt was affirming in me that he'd be at my house for Thanksgiving. The party was smaller. But that didn't make it less meaningful or special.

Explaining who I was sharing the Holiday with was interesting to new friends. Making it clear that Matt and I are not dating, and then how I knew the Pipers- considering I've never lived in Kentucky/Ohio- was interesting. Sometimes just hard to not get lost in reflection, but for the most part: its a great story. The ties that bind us continue to remain closely and tightly woven in a beautiful, remarkably resilient and wonderfully poignant way.

I remember going to hang out with Robin and Kristyn Piper the weekend before Christmas a couple of years ago. I went to help decorate the several Robin Piper Christmas Trees and shop and cook and laugh and love on them. I barely knew them. Tex had just moved to Oregon, and I knew that I was spending Christmas with them as a family. I was driving back to Virginia from Kentucky and I remember I was talking to my mother about the long weekend we had all shared together. Kristyn, Robin, and I ate some amazing meals- played Rummikub until all hours of the night, laughed a lot, and we cried for people we missed, parts of our families hurting, and just loved each other a lot. I told my mother that I felt like then, even before I knew the future and how it was all going to play out- that part of why Tex and I met and shared such an incredible story, was to get me to those women. And to get those women into my life. Because the sisterhood and love that was born was instant. It resembled a lot of what I felt like when Tex and I became friends.

Through fights, and tears, and the rollercoaster of the originating Piper friendship- I'm humbled and amazed (albeit shocked and surprised) and how tightly Robin, Kristyn and I have clung together in sharing life, love, Holidays and friendship. Not to mention, Kristyn moving to Winston-Salem!

Sitting at my dinner table on Thursday night were not my sisters, or my brothers, or my parents. But I had a brother. A sister. And a mother.

Sometimes I think about the family I will have one day. The kids that will call me mom. The man that will call me theirs. I daydream about being moved Internationally with my current job, which is becoming more of a reality each day. And sometimes I worry that I will have to choose between dreams and realities. Then I'm able to sit back and reflect that while my name is not mom, and there is not a ring positioned on my left hand. That I still have young people in my life I love dearly like they were mine. And that I'm claimed by a loving and living God each day. I have a family that is my own. They are a group of characters that have been accumulated and kept through the years, and they are mine.

I am thankful for them. Those at the table. And for the several friends and siblings of mine that are scattered up and down the East Coast and to the West that I continue to know and love- and share this crazy life with.

Next week my family is meeting in NYC for the Giants/Packers Game. It will be the only time I'll be able to spend with them for Christmas. I can't wait. I am not sure there's much more room in this overwhelming heart for more of what I've just experienced. True and lasting love and friendship. (Even my brother Justin is flying in from California for the game!)

Amazing. Thanks to Matty for helping keep my favorite Holiday tradition alive, and being the best friend and brother a girl could ask for. And love. Endless love and gratitude to the 2 Piper women that have never let me go.

sunflowers.

I have noticed in the unpacking and setting up a new house that you can truly start afresh. You can leave memories tucked into boxes that you've not yet been able to sever yourself from. You can remove photograph's from frames. You can keep mementos of a story, a love, a friendship, a time, a season hidden from view. Having a Birthday recently, and compiling my Christmas Card the other day may have heightened this awareness as I visually looked at all of the events of this year. It's been interesting.

A few weeks ago I completed the decorating project known as: Kari's New Place. There will be a separate blog entry posting favorite new things, favorite new places for old things, and just some things that I believe make a home- really a home.I was done placing photographs on walls. Several new pieces made their debut. Some old ones that I still love so much, and can't decide what new should take over. There are a few that were replaced immediately so that their reminders were made a little less raw.

The truth is. Tex and I aren't friends anymore. The story is long, and there are moments when I'm able to rise above what has been said that has been so hurtful, and for the things unspoken that I think should have been said, and I'm able to have a moment of pure. sweet. uninhibited gratitude. However. Those moments are too infrequent, and too much time spans between them. I pray that they will grow closer together, but right now I'm in the valley of anger, resentment, disappointment, and judgement about it all. I have learned that you can un friend someone on Facebook. Edit out songs on your iPod. Take pictures out of frames. Change the way you tell certain stories. Remove reminders. The best, moving to a new place- the ghosts and memories dissipate. Before you know it, you've nearly wiped out a memory, an entire person. It's so bizarre.

I've not wanted to write about it, then wanted too but felt I couldn't. And then today finally sat and looked through old posts here about what has been good, hard, true, and real... and knew that this story. This part of this story was and is true to me. It's part of what I'm learning. It's becoming part of who I am. I won't ramble on about what he said, or what I did. I will share that decorating a new home, in the wake of that relationship ending in finality- hurt with the reflections I found in perfectly chosen and coordinated frames. Without even thinking I moved through each room and placed things that I loved and repositioned them countless times trying to find their space, their placement of perfection. It wasn't until my birthday that I realized I had one picture left to select, and only a few pieces the right size to put in this one place: my bathroom.

The one picture I had refused to place anywhere else up to that point remained on the bed. It was a photograph I received last year for my birthday from Tex. A field of sunflowers. My most favorite flower. It was a perfect gift, last year from a beloved and treasured friend. He took it, and it makes me laugh because its a point of view I would have captured myself. He did good.

This year, on my birthday I stood and reflected on the year. That person. And all of the moments I have listened and been challenged by Christ in Church recently during our sermon series came into full volume.

My heart is bitter, hardened and angry towards Tex. I have specific reasons that I sometimes hold onto so tightly because they justify me. But the truth is, having a hardened heart towards one person- hardens my heart to all people, especially in my relationship with Jesus. We are called to pray for our enemies. I hadn't prayed for Tex in a long time. So a few weeks ago with this challenge posed, I began to pray. Not for our friendship, not for anything related to me. But for him. That has been so hard. Sometimes I get so mad. Sometimes I want to call him up and scream... but then I know somewhere afterwards we'd probably start laughing... which would just hurt more then the screaming.

Most of the time it leaves me quiet. Hurting. And sad.

But as I've prayed for Him. I know that my heart continues to heal. Not in hope for anything more then I will know and proclaim Jesus through each breath, step, and moment of this life. In the good and the bad. When I'm sad and frustrated. When I'm excited and joyful. My heart will be open to His calling, timing, purpose and Love. My spirit will respond to His peace when I'm unable to see or feel anything else.

Thinking all of those things I decided to place the sunflower picture that I had been hiding behind other choices in my bathroom. Its purpose is that in seeing this picture that I will remember to pray, for Tex, for the hurt that I am fighting and watching be healed in an authentically slow and marvelous pace. It's not meant to serve a reminder of the past, or the friendship. It's an image that will force me to remember. To pray. Its the one place I see each and everyday multiple times a day. I can breeze past hallways, and I can avoid guest rooms. But my bathroom. Is central to my daily routine. I will pray. Sometimes I wonder what or if there is a photograph placed with purpose in his house, I wonder if he struggled like I did, with so many old photographs- so many old memories. I hope there is one, that remains.

Sometimes when I'm brushing my teeth I will look at it through the mirror. If I have shoes on I can sometimes see a glimmer of silver that catches the light. On the ledge of the frame rests a key, carefully placed out of sight. When I took the key off my necklace collection of keys and my lock weeks ago, I had it hidden away in its box. The other day I thought about it, and realized its home was here- where sometimes I'd see it, sometimes I wouldn't. But they are together. Not to celebrate or remember a person. To remember to grow. To keep moving forward. To stop cycles. To hold onto what is real. To be honest. To love more. To embrace Jesus.

To Pray.

For our enemies. For those that hurt us.

To have a heart softened, and pursuing Christ with fervor.

I have and continue to meet amazing people. I am busy with work, with my new church, with social groups, and visits from friends. The pace is hectic and busy, and sometimes I'm so content in the new life here that I forget to look back on the story... the road to here. The people that line that journey, those that continue to contribute. I obviously, never imagined that Tex would be part of the past. I never. Never. Never. thought that. (n e v e r).

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, which I love so much I have tried to spend some time reflecting on the blessings of this year and life. And when I'm honest and vulnerable with myself and God, I sense my heart so hurt and hardened by this entire situation turn to mushy goo, when I think about how happy I am, how great my life is- even in spite of sadness because I am growing and blessed abundantly.

Love is a choice. Friendship is a choice. Forgiveness is a choice. Grace is a choice. I pray that I continue to show discernment and vulnerability with those choices. That I'd be filled with the Spirit, and would approach relationships with continued optimism and hope. That I'd be aware that deceit, secrets, and cycles are a choice too. Mistreating someone we love is a choice, we blame dispositions/time/circumstances... I pray that I would be shown where to grow in those spaces and places to choose better.

But mostly.

My heart swells because I know, that I am loved. (Oh, So l o v e d.)

It's everywhere in my life right now. Sunrises and Sunsets. Nights around bonfires with new friends. Surprises on my Birthday. Letters and Care Packages. Laughter. Real true friendship.

And so, I am also thankful for someone I knew a season, whom I thought would be a lifetime- and I pray.