Levels of love

For week three of our "Blessed Life" I was reminded of what love is.

On Monday I had a visit from a girl I barely knew. But sitting on the couch, I found her to be easy to talk with. Probably because hitting common ground with mothers usually takes only a minute or two. But our kids were similar ages, our husbands were of similar type, and our struggles as mothers were real.

That day I remembered that having things in common brings people together. Not only does it unite us but it also sustains our relationships in the midst of our differences.

Love came back on Tuesday with a text. "Available today at noon" it said. Unlike the other girl, I knew her enough to feel connected with. The basics were already out of the way and when she came over we went a little deeper then where we have ever gone before. Speaking out about God and our relationship with him.

That day I remembered that love is spiritual. It is more than a feeling or a drive, it is a constant connection that had been joined by the very hand of God.

On Wednesday, I went out with a long time friend. We had watched each other grow in every area of our lives. I knew her. I knew that for her to feel special she didn't need a crowd. That she enjoyed change more if I held her hand and that she was in a season of discovering her own sense of style. I knew her enough that she didn't need to tell me what she would want for her birthday. I knew her enough to feel it.

That day I remembered that Love sees and knows every detail of our lives. It is the one who listens to the heart beat of our soul and knows even the smallest desire.

Thursday I went to Women Mentoring Women. As soon as I walked in, I felt welcomed. It was as if each person there saw me for all I could be, instead of every thing I wasn't. It was as if every walk of life, every season, and every road merged together to make it acceptable to be on. No one was out of place, because we were in a place of love. We were in God's house.

That day I remembered that Love encourages us to be who we are, where we are at, and where we are going. To see how our differences have the ability to create an interest and then produce a strength of empowerment to boost us forward.

On Friday, we had our friends over. They were a couple we had a lot of history with so it was exciting to have them come by. They were a laid back type so we sat by the fire and lounged on the couch, it felt as familiar as it would have with family. It was as if we were able to take off from the moment we left off from, without even missing a beat. Laughing and talking as if we had just been together yesterday.

That day I remembered that love is comfortable. It is familiar and easy to be with it.

On Saturday, we hung out with friends. They were a couple that had similar interests with both of us, so we cruised around downtown. Going out for lunch, grabbing a cup of coffee, even fitting in a little bit of shopping. Of course the men pretended to complain the whole time, keeping up to their image....I guess. But none-the-less, they helped us in our adventures to find a couple of amazing things.

That day I remembered that love explores. It enjoys discovering new things and having new adventures. When even the simple things are some how made exciting.

On Sunday, it was just us and our family. We enjoyed breakfast together. Watched T.V for a bit. And took a nap. Nothing was special. Nothing was different. It was just us. But yet all the same did it remind me that most importantly Love is, the everyday.

God is Love, Hope.

Bumble Ally

When I met Maria I was struck by her genuine love for children and it didn't take long to see that her designs were inspirations that came from the very the core of her heart. It seemed that every part of her creativity echoed in her designs for Bumble Ally. As if the very work of her hands was the work of Jesus flowing out her and into the work of her needle. I couldn't be more blessed to not only know her but to share her experience of God in a different way. A way where the care of a child could stir up a delicate rose. Beautiful. Colorful. Purposeful. Would be one way to describe my friend. Thank you Maria, for making Bumble Ally more then a label but a place where things are just as gentle, simple, and pure, as you are. A place that embraces the season of children instead of overwhelms, bringing a sense of joy and lightness to each step.

I am excited that you have invited me to be a part of your vision. That you want to feature my new designs in your next line. That you believe in me and my ideas. Know that, each piece that I created, you inspired and I can't wait to see how you will bring to life a place where modern boys pair up with vintage girls. Children that live in the 21st century but embrace the past generation enough to respect both.

Vintage for her

Head band

Belt

Modern for Him

Tie

Hat

Bib

Looking forward, hope.

Following hope

The second week of our financial peace looked a little different then a brand new sewing machine and cash in an envelope. But, all the same it came as another surprise from God.

It started on a Friday when I came into the shop, lunch bag in one hand, kid in another. It was a typical kind of day for me and I was excited to tell him that "We finally did it!" We, for the first time made our budget by not getting by with less but seeing how many opportunities we have been given to have everything.

Life was good for us, but it was about to get better. Because, as I handed him his lunch sack (unusually prepared the morning of) he announced that he wouldn't be eating it that day. He, my husband was sustaining himself from food. And then, as evening rolled around, I couldn't help but ask the question why?

Leadership he said, and although it came both unexpected, it had also been awaited. A leader, was exactly what I had been praying about. Some one to initiate daily prayer and be an example in devotion and scripture. Some one who would guide us through the storms by the quickened hand of God. And as my list of expectations grew in my ideas of an ideal "leader" I began to feel convicted. Quickly I realized that God had actually been waiting for me.

He had been waiting for me to have faith in my husband. To be some one that would walk along side of him and his ideas, instead of see the impossibility in them. And as I looked into his eyes I saw a motivation that walked right into his heart and was not letting go. I saw the kind of faith that settles in and doesn't kid around. By the look on his face, I knew that he was ready to trust in the Lord and I was finally ready to trust him.

"Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord. Whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when the heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit." Jeremiah 16: 7-8

Hope.

Macaroon Monday

The thunder accompanied the rhythm of the rain. My feet were propped up on a window sill, as I sat comfortably on a wooden chair, leaning against a fluffy pillow. The blanket was warm from the heat vent underneath me and nothing could have felt more satisfying then the tea. It was a perfect blend of cream, earl gray, mint and caramel. Rich in taste but light in texture, kind of like the macaroons I was munching on.

The moment seemed as intense as my day had been, but also, just as much had it felt planned. There had been something more then just a downpour of things to do, and I couldn't help but feel my body being held by the gentle grace of God. It could have only been him who gave me the energy to clean my house that mundane, Monday morning as I ran around with a fresh burst of urgency, seeing to it that everything was just so.

It could have only been him who filled my day with peace as my sewing project acted up for the next several hours, knowing that the determination I would need exceeded all of my human tendencies. I did not give up, or slow down, instead it felt like I had gained potential. So, taking him along on my adventure seemed like a good idea. Might as well, do this laundry we never get to....I told the Lord. And then, when we finished that up too, we sat by the T.V and ironed all the wrinkles out from another heap of procrastination.

By the end of the day I had a clean house that was washed, organized, and cleaned all the way through. I had clothes in the closets, on the shelves, and on the hangers. I had a fridge full of groceries and a pantry that was stocked all the way to the top.

Looking back on everything, I was grateful that he knows about, not only my plans for the day but also the unplanned things of my day. That the urgency, delegation, time-management, and organization of a day that could have only been gained through him. And as the next few days pulled in some unexpected surprises I saw how his hands had gently pushed me so that the rest of my week would not be consumed by my obligations to my schedule but by the opportunities in being available.

So there I was. Sitting by the window, enjoying my macaroons.

Simple Almond Macaroon

12.5 oz almonds (blanched or natural)
5.25 granulated sugar
8.8 Room temperature egg whites
1 tsp. almond extract
20 oz. powdered sugar
pinch salt

In a food processor fitted with a blade attachment, grind the almonds and powdered sugar until fine and powdery (at least 5 mins) Meanwhile, in a bowl of a stand mixer, beat the egg whites and salt until just foamy. Gradually add the granulated sugar in a stream. Turn the mixer up to high and whip until a stiff meringue has formed. Having a peak is important, but do not over beat. Instead, when you see that you are reaching a peaking point, beat in short increments until a sturdy peak is reached.


With the mixer running add in the almond extract. Remove bowl from mixer stand and gently fold in the sugar and nut mixture. Using a piping bag fitted with a wide tip, pipe the macarons onto a parchment-lined sheet pan. Aim to create circles the size of quarters. Bake at 300 F and remove when the macrons have turned golden and are set on their "foot", approx. 8-10 minutes.



* When macaroons bake it is okay to open the oven after a couple minutes to check on them. This is done by lightly touching them with your finger. They are set as soon as soon as they do not wiggle on their "foot".

*Also, weight is the better route to take, but, I have also done this by oz. It is not as consistent but it does work.

Measurements in ounces. 2 1/3 cups almonds, 6 egg whites, 5 cups powdered sugar

Baby Hudson

What I love the most about this table setting is the delicate eloquence. To see the fragile tenderness in each piece was important to me when I expanded on the character of each item. But even despite the search for this collection I love how it portrays itself so effortlessly in the stillness of the table. While in the meantime, the mirrors create movement with the light.

Fun as it was, celebrating little Hudson was the most important. To make him feel welcome. To make the coming of life be as extravagant, special, purposeful and amazing as he will grow to be. Because he will be so loved by a family that desired him and a God that created him. S0, we welcome you in the blessings of a day when we celebrated you, a blessing all and of itself.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart (Jer. 1:5)

Welcoming, hope.

Craft Room Surprise

This is a written testimony of an amazing person that felt lead by God. That took action and allowed god to work in my life. To build my faith, once again. To trust him, again and again. Thank you for your generosity.

With another short sale not going through we were settling in our home for the third time. As a settler, I wanted to give my craft room some love and care and luckily I found everything I needed around my home. After piecing it together with no expenses at all I was excited to have my new space finished, especially because we recently decided to buckle down and go on a financial adjustment.

It was something that we felt our hearts were being lead to do, something that we had been aware of just not acting upon it. Because to be grateful, meant to stop being selfish, to stop promoting ourselves, protecting ourselves, and providing for ourselves. That instead, as grateful people we should be the ones to give. And even though we liked the concept of it, being thankful was not a category that met our finances.

Wanting to see the opportunity in offerings, I calculated the numbers and the fact was that we have not been able to meet our budget in a month. Unsuccessfully, we went over each and every time to a point of hopelessness. But this week, I knew it was going to be different because this time as I tallied up the dollars I saw that it was possible to spend less. That week we came out fifteen dollars short, and although I was disappointed that we couldn't give more I did feel like we accomplished something. But as I settled, God didn't.

On Friday, the first knock on my door came earlier then my expected guests. Knocking on my door with every intention of being a surprise. Anonymously proclaiming himself and the glory in my life by surprising me with something I could have never allowed myself to buy.

The sewing machine had all the bells and whistles. So extravagant that I was even scared to open it. Frightened that it might not be real, that it might have been a mistake, or that I might not even deserve it. So I gave it a couple of days before I felt ready. By then it was Sunday.

I opened it up carefully, not to break or loose any parts. I sat in my craft room and laid everything out. I looked at the manual and hoped that I wouldn't screw anything up. And in the end I still couldn't believe it. So I sat there. Waiting.

What I found was an envelope, simply put in a sandwich bag that was holding a pair of sewing scissors. Originally, I thought the envelope was holding the scissors in place so I didn't even bother to look inside of it. But for some reason or other, I felt prompted to open it then.

Inside I found sixty dollars, and before I could even put a category to the money I already knew it wasn't mine to have. Quickly, I went to my notepad that had the 15 dollars circled on it. It was the same 15 that had disappointed me earlier. Except now, became my confirmation, because the amount that I was so sure we needed to give was an offering of 75 dollars per week.

It was our efforts that he saw and it was the heavens that truly cared. A God that believed in me so much so that he rewarded me just for trying. And in the end, I saw a God that confirmed his voice to me, a God that knew how to encourage me, and a God that would help me.

We would sure need him because the next two months we had a lot of change coming our way, and in a way I would much rather be living out his plan, instead of my (so far failing) plan. But the best way to put it, is that there's nothing like being surprised by God.

Confirming, hope.

Chocolate Cherry Cake

Cake:

7 Eggs
1 cup sugar
1 cup flour
1/4 cup cocoa powder

Cherries:

1-25 oz jar of dark cherries
(In light syrup)
Vodka

Filling:

1 stick softened, butter
1-8 oz can Condensed Milk

Glaze:

8 tsp cocoa powder
8 tbsp sugar
8 tbsp sour cream
100 g. unsalted butter

Pour out half of the syrup from the cherries and refill the jar back up with vodka. Let it stand in the marinade for several hours. Before use, drain the cherries.

Preheat the oven to 350 F. Beat the eggs and sugar together for 10-15 until thickened and doubled in size. Add the cocoa and continue mixing, until incorporated. Sift in the flour and gently fold in. Then, in a large spring form pan coated with butter pour in the batter and bake for 30 mins or until toothpick comes up clean.

Once the cake has cooled, cut along the perimeter of it, leaving a 1/2 in border. Scoop out all of the insides in order to make a shell, kind of like making a bread bowl. Put the shell of the cake to the side and work on the remains that you pulled out. Either crumble them with your fingers or pulse them in a food processor.

To make the cream, simply beat the butter and once it is fluffy add the condensed milk. Beat together until incorporated. Mix the cream in with the cake bits. Fold in the cherries and then stuff the filling back into the cake shell.

To finish the cake off, make the chocolate glaze by melting the cocoa powder, sugar and sour cream in a small saucepan. Bring to a soft simmer and then take it off the heat. Add the butter 1 tbsp at a time, stirring to incorporate. Once all the butter is added, let it sit for a few minutes before pouring it on the cake. Sprinkle with nuts or bits or chocolate.

Tempted, Hope.

Cherr-ish

This Valentines day I went looking for a Raspberry scrub from The body shop, but was inspired by cherries instead. Chocolate covered cherries infused with alcohol is a popular choice for many people so when planning our date for tonight I thought it would be appropriate for the occasion.

The scrub almost looks like a cherry puree and the smell was sweet enough to drench a whole body in, so it was a fairly easy decision to make especially since my mind was already moving me right along. I was in the plans of making a chocolate cherry cake with notes of Vodka through out. And, since the cherries for the cake would need to marinate in the alcohol for some time I thought a cherry infused drink would accommodate our bath well.

For all the other wives out there, I hope you are having a great Valentines day. I hope that every day can be filled with moments that will ignite your heart by very sight of the man that you love. The one you have chosen just as much as he had chosen you. That you wouldn't expect from each other the things you aren't willing to do yourselves and then wait on them. That instead, you would take a day and shower him with the things that he loves just because you love him.

Valentines day or not, Cherr-ish every moment. Hope.

Its a Girl!

I remember the day Jenny was born. She was out in 5, with not a minute to loose. Kicking and screaming, pouting and shouting, crying and laughing, she was a girl that from birth knew that there was an agenda for her to fill.

She was any new mom's dream, born with a whole head of hair. But as most dreams go, I didn't realize that we would also begin a journey with it. Brushing was a struggle from the get go, her big hazel eyes just shedding out tears. Big, shiny ones that left a trail long enough to walk in, sit down, and read a book. So, with the sweetest look I knew how to give, I told my little precious gem that "Beauty comes with a price and beauty some times hurts". The words seemed to be as transparent as the tears that were falling.

Its funny now, how her tears brought out some of mine. Tears that soon became the chapters of our lives. And in the midst of each emotional break down we would drive to my husbands work, so that he could talk to me and for a minute hold her. No one saw the days when we couldn't understand each other. When simple things like trying to dress her turned into tantrums while she deliberated if that's what she wanted to do at all. The scene she would create with the scattered popcorn on the floor, cereal on the carpet, and spills on the very thing I just spent half of the day trying to put on.

It seemed that in between her emotional break downs and mine, I was learning a few things about a nurture that needed to be balanced by consistency. But as days rolled by and another set of problems appeared I struggled to be positive. Realistically, I was in a place where months of potty training had gone wrong. When instead of going on her potty she would take the opportunity to show case it in art. Poop smeared against her satin headboard, toys, carpet and clothes was not a dream that I wanted to be living in.

Prayer along with persistence finally paid off a few months later, when she finally went on the potty herself. But as one area was concurred another area was about to be questioned. The difference between her disobedience and her curiosity, was a little harder. Because Jenny had a way of filling in all the shades of gray. Literally, we saw her spread the ashes on the carpet, only to sit down and play with the black disaster. It turns out that even rules have shades and we spent the next few years discovering them.

Today, I still tell her to take a few more bites of her food, brush in between tears, and teach her about putting things back. But I also know that when she speaks, people listen. That, her attention to detail is something she was born with. And that she has a personality that is all her own. Its one that creates interest where ever she goes and a leader that loves to teach. Of course, I thought, from the moment she was born she has been teaching me.

Looking back, I know that it has been a full season of ups and downs but in a sense it felt like at the same time we were being reassured as parents about our parenting. So, comforted by god, I began thinking about another girl, at first scared by the very idea. But the more I thought, the more I felt ready to have one. Six months in, I can't be more thrilled by the idea that Jenny will finally have a sister and our lives will be enriched by another girl.

Here's to all the little girls who are
made of sugar and spice,
And everything nice.
Hope.

Blast from the past

Valentines day is nearing quickly and as I think about all the people in my life, I can't help but wonder about all the other people that are not. The ones I have hurt in the past. The ones that saw my true nature and ran away from it, destroyed by the words that came out of my mouth.

This is to the one I have hurt,

My heart can not rest for my mind won't let me and my prayers won't grant me peace. It's like the power of regret and guilt consume me, to a point that it binds me to my sins. Forgiveness feels undeserving, its grace to wonderful for me. But yet I search to make things right, in hopes that settling this with you will help me settle too.

I want to apologize, for all I have done and not done. For the things I have said but also have failed to tell you too. For the way I have made you feel, purposefully and pridefully for my own pleasure. For not giving you a fair chance and seeing you through my own insecurities instead of the person you really are. I feel, that I am ready to find a truth that is real and not through my own short comings.

I am so sorry that you had to see that side of me but I also want to say thank you. Thank you, for challenging my actions and my heart to a level I have never been to before. For taking me from a person that would initially see opportunities to destruct, instead of places to uplift.

Please, accept this as from a person who wants reconciliation. A person that wants to be different but knows it will take time for transformation. And a friend who's discovering that at the end of the day the person she needs to deal with is herself. Just her, sitting before all of her short comings, failures, and regrets. Understanding that to move forward, she would need to enter the past.

Sincerely, I hope that this helps you move forward in yourself. To be a women that has the confidence to live securely in a world that is insecure. A women that will finally let her walls down and know that she is more then the things that are said to her, because she is a women that can change things just by the words that she speaks.

Sincerely, hope.

Walk the way

We went walking in a new part of town. I wanted to look at a few antique shops and Genius was in the mood to take me. The weather was damp, wet, and cold. But it was the usual and I was prepared. I had on my rain boots, rain coat, and umbrella.

Amongst some very interesting things, I found the coffee sacks I had been looking for. They were going to be used in another attempt to reupholster my chairs before going plastic and my hopes were high this time around. Perhaps child number four would know how to properly sit in a chair. Perhaps she won't bounce around in her seat or eat without playing with her food.

As I enjoyed my sarcastic adventure into a land of behavior, we walked into a coffee place and sampled away on freshly roasted beans. They seem to be the talk around town so we were delighted with the experience, as well as interested in some of the classes that the shop offered.

Continuing down the street with another sample, I was amazing at how a cup of that size could warm my whole body. But a sip and a half later I was back on empty, searching for another place to browse in.

The flower, wine and salt store soon caught our attention. And while we inquired about the wall of Salt I couldn't help but ask what the blocks of it were for. Eighty dollars did seem a little steep, until it was explained that they could be used in a variety of cooking crusades. Grilling meat, searing veggies, or morning eggs could all be done on the salty block. This was definitely a place to keep in mind, especially for gift baskets.

We were coming to the end of the road, but not before we walked into a shoe place. The smell of real leather marinated into my clothes. All the things there were taken to a whole new desirable level and we drooled over the bags and shoes that stood before us. But although our minds ran away with the merchandise, it seemed that our wallets had a real sense of restraint so we walked away with nothing except an exceptional idea for sneakers.

A simple elastic tied at one end and worked up the shoe, puts the traditional shoe laces to shame and I can't help but love the idea.

Thanks again, Portland.
You rule, hope.

Contagious Color

Head band

Linen Skirt

Pearl Onesie

It all started on a day when painting got the best of me. When a quiet moment was grasped in the arms of color and when I just couldn't put the brush down. But what started as a small project progressed suddenly as I remembered the fabric that lay neatly tucked in a box, waiting for its purpose. Anxiously I pulled it out, wanting to be surprised in the mystery of the moment.

The femininity of it, was breathtaking, and in minutes I envisioned the pair together. I imagined a skirt where the bronze pearls played along side the modern birds and flowers of the print. I saw a piece that went beyond the obvious but inside all of the intricate details that had been designed so perfectly on it. And the more I looked at it, the more I was excited to create it.

Sewing, can sometimes feel therapeutic and while I wondered about purpose and design I fell in love with an idea. An idea that something with purpose can not be contained, instead it is contagious. It will in fact, take over its surroundings and inspire everything around it in a way that both easy and natural. It will in the end be noticed not by seeking attention but by being itself.

So badly I wanted to be that person. A person who can be confident about her strengths, be the person that ignites peoples passions, and serves her purpose daily. Living out a life that will bring out the best in me and the people around me. Be a person of spiritual depth and color. Easily and naturally, myself.

Natural, hope.

Birthday Dreams

For Drakies third birthday we soared in the warmth of his innocent dreams for hours until he opened his eyes and realized that his party wasn't that day, it was a whole week away. In his three year mind he didn't understand that dreaming didn't make things happen, and he definitely didn't know that they would need to appear through mommies hard work and preparation. But while I tried my best to explain, I couldn't stop his little tears from falling.


Of course I needed to make my boy feel better and for the next week we spent every day on a project. Buying the felt tablecloth. Making the road and gluing together the yellow lines. Setting up the table, placing all the cars, and arranging the napkins. Together we wrapped up the juice boxes, cut out the shapes and went shopping for bendable straws.... until finally his excitement came back.


Little did I know how sentimental he was though. Little did I understand that his cake wasn't meant to be cut or eaten. His balloons weren't blown up to be popped. Or his beautiful room, trashed. And the more his face acted surprised at the destruction of the day, the less fun it was for him. In his little three year old mind he wanted his dream to last. The beautiful and real arrangement of hard work and preparation seemed so pointless to him. And again, he just couldn't understand. So, like mommies do best. I rocked him in my arms and held him for as long as I could.



I knew that despite his disappointments, his heart would race the minute he opened his presents. He would forget the destruction and become part of the party in only a matter of time. And soon after the gifts, he did. Nothing before it mattered anymore, instead he finally let go and enjoyed living in his dream with the sound of laughter that he envisioned.

What dreams are made of, hope.

Vintage made Modern

It seems that I haven't walked into the craft room in weeks but as I looked through my pictures, I came along one that I had forgotten about completely. Here is a photo of my little Drakes, wearing a hat that I made only a few days before Christmas. My favorite part is this vintage, Can pull. It was something I didn't know what to stick on until I was reminded by the verse "All things old will be made new again". Funny how the bible does have the answers for everything, even the new worldly fashion statements. Saving the earth had never been so publicized, and what was going back to the roots with Organic lines has now turned to Eco-friendly choices that push us to make a conscious effort in re-using the old. Well, if the bible is behind this phenomenon, I love it, especially if its vintage---made modern.

Eco-friendly, hope.

A new leaf

I could feel my heart throb inside of me, almost as if it were warning me. Quietly it persisted for days until it penetrated through my whole body and as I searched to understand just a part of it, words just couldn't surface. I felt completely stuck in the pit of my emotions as I wrestling with my mind, jumping to conclusions and debating all the reasons "why". But all I felt was a hurt for something I couldn't even fathome.

This continued through the holidays and into the new year until one sunny day on Sunday.

The sermon hit me hard. Powerfully pouring into the depth of my soul, pinpointing moments in my week of struggle as a week of power. It showed me the day when I recognized attack and proclaimed God's truth instead. It brought up my season of submission to God through the sorrow in my heart. A time when my laughter started to sound purer by the freedom I had in my soul. It reminded me about all my convictions when I studied the word by deserning my thoughts and challenging the intents of my heart. It began to tell me that honesty was powerful and transparency doesn't have faults.

Deeper and deeper God proclaimed his works in me. Reassuring me of my commitments. Securing me by the people he placed beside me. The ones he used everyday as a reminder that he understands, and that he is always there for me. So, as I filled back up on his love and his dedication, I began to realize that this year for Christmas he so much as loved me that he gave. He gave me the gift of being restored. Taking me from a place of self doubt to a place of security. And I recieved it, thankfully.

It was so good to know that he believed in me the whole time I couldn't believe in myself and that even though my Christmas didn't go as planned, it was good to know that I was a part of his plan. That he could use my family, my relatives, and my friends together in the mighty work of his hand.

I remembered that day in the car. The day my heart started to hurt for something I couldn't prepare my self for and it made sense. No one can understand God, and the moment you do is the exact moment you don't. That day, I didn't need to understand him or myself I just needed to live it through long enough so that he could reveal himself in me. And now, I can start this new year stronger then what I was. Better then where I was. Happier then who I was.

Restored, hope.

If are interested here is the link to the service from our church on Sunday.

http://www.cityharvestchurch.com/media.php?pageID=25

Christmas Treats

One the traditions that I was excited to be a part of is the gift of sharing, and every year we go door to door giving a little treat to the ones we love. Friends, neighbors, and family all get a visit from our family. Its a way we deliver our Christmas Cards and also do a little catch up with the people we see a little less.

I love the feeling of being welcomed into a home. I love giving treats to people that are excited about receiving. And I love seeing that cup of coffee being enjoyed with something I made. It is definitely a time when I think that the giver is getting more out of the giving then the receiver and each year it is a "must" on my list.

I do try to do an assortment of treats. This year it was a mix of some of my favorite recipes.

Mango Cheese cake with a pistachio crust

Gentle Cake

Almond Cupcake with Caramel Mousse
and Coco-nut topping

Chocolate Macaroons

Were all put together in this Paula Dean Canister, because,
Christmas Traditions, hope.

Christmas Card

I finally ordered my Christmas Cards and even though all the people in our lives will be receiving them, I thought it would also be a good time to share our year with my followers.

I need to start by saying that we have been so blessed to have every thing we need and more. For starters, staying in our home has been a huge blessing. For us, it has honestly been a humbling experience and I find myself smiling at the thought that we have had both the opportunity to live with much and to live with less.

It seems that while our plans have taken us down a easy road in the past, we realized that it had only been by his grace. It was in that grace that he gave us some really great moments and filled our lives with people that have not only celebrated with us but today have helped sustain us. People that have walked the road with us, prayed for us, and encouraged us in every step, in every turn and then at every fall.

More then ever we have seen God's work through people. Families who prayed for us when we needed them to. Men who walked with my husband as he fought for his business, learning from the leaders in his life so that he could learn to lead. Each and every week we gathered with our house church to eat, relax, and almost always laugh.

I do believe that there is something about laughter that softens even the roughest spaces. There is something about community that smooths out the hardest of places. And there is something about prayer that touches the most delicate part of the soul. A year filled with that, in my books is a great year.

Happy holidays, hope.

Time Together

I love how holidays bring the family together. I love the small moments of traditional fires, hot chocolate, and of course Ginger bread. I love the music that continually plays in the background, the kind that gets everyone singing. I love the presents, the tree, and every decoration. All in all, I do enjoy every aspect of Christmas but especially because it reminds me that God so loved the world that he gave. He gave us a part of himself, he gave us his son. And now, it serves as a reminder about a gift I can only aspire to give and giving myself to my family was an easy start.

Spending time together, hope.