Wednesday, December 11, 2019

My “Ugly” Christmas Tree

I’m not one of those people that puts up the Christmas ornaments as soon as we’ve packed up Halloween. Nope, we wait until the day after Thanksgiving, but bright and early that day, both trees go up.  

Yes: “treeS.”  We have two of them.  Both are plastic since we are a military family that moves around the world, sometimes to places where real trees aren’t an option.  But that’s their only similarity.  One is tall, full, and elegant.  It has white lights and coordinating ornaments and is swathed to the angel at the top in a beautiful gold ribbon.  It stands in our living room, and people who see it always admire its beauty.

Then there’s the other one that we keep upstairs in the play room.  It’s much shorter and... well, look, it was cheap.  I got it eight years ago when I’d just given birth to Wyatt, and Matt was deployed.  The thought of buying a real tree, then figuring out how to tie it to my car and get it inside without him was overwhelming, and this one was a steal at Target.  Its branches are a bit scrawny, but it comes with plenty of colorful lights.  

This is the “quirky” one with the very best ornaments — tiny footprint reindeer and cut-out paper Christmas trees with preschool portraits glued on.  Its thin branches hold the snowmen and stars Jayna and I painted the first time Matt was deployed at Christmas, when we were living in Spain,  away from family, and I was hugely pregnant with Skyler.  They’re not beautiful — she swirled all the colors together so that the snowmen are sort of greenish-brown — but when I look at those ornaments, I think of how much we missed my husband that year, but how were were being brave, smiling and celebrating anyway.  

We have two trees despite my frustration about storing excess Christmas décor because this is what compromise looks like when you have five kids that range in age from 4 to 20.  The two oldest appreciate terms like “aesthetic” and “Pinterest-worthy” and have a deep affection for fairy lights, shiplap, and dove gray.  The younger three dig chaos and any vibrant color; they’re proud of their handiwork, as well as that of their big sisters from years gone by.

After we got our trees up, Lilly asked, “Which one is your favorite?”  

I tried to be tactful.  “Well... Both are pretty...”  But then honesty took over.  “The upstairs one, of course.”  

I used to be just like my oldest girls, rolling my eyes and complaining — loudly— about my parents’ use of colorful lights and our Christmas decor that had no theme except “We love it, so it works.” Plain white would be so much more elegant.  I loved to deliver the ultimate word coup: “All our stuff is so UGLY!”  

When I married and started my own family (and we finally had enough money to afford a Christmas presents!), I promised myself that we’d only have white lights and gorgeous decorations, selected to display my flawless and discerning taste.

Then — surprise! — I had a very opinionated daughter.  (Actually, I ended up with four of them, but she was the first.)  “I hate white lights!” Jayna announced at the ripe old age of 4, stomping her foot for emphasis.  “They’re SO BORING!”  At first, I tried to reason with her: “No, look, it’s kind of like snow!  Sparkly, beautiful snow!” But then I stepped into her very small shoes and could see her point-of-view. They were all. exactly. the. same; they were (*gulp*) a little boring.  We went out and bought a bunch of colorful lights and after we’d wrapped the tree in them, she beamed rapturously, declaring that it looked “just like a rainbow!”  

So I had sort of whiplash when, a decade later, she scorned all the colorful lights in favor of only white.  She asked why we couldn’t have decorations that actually looked nice.  When I complained to Matt, he got a smug little smile on his face and said, “I remember how you said the exact same thing once.”  It was maddening.

For years I held my ground, especially when we were living in an apartment in Busan and there was barely room for the seven of us.  But last year I gave into the grumbling and bought the second tree, the “Pinterest tree,” for my older kids.  I can admit that it’s very pretty, but it will never have my heart like the other one does.  

It might sound like a cliché, but I love the “ugly” tree because it reminds me of all the color my kids have brought to my life.  How they’ve taught me to laugh and be silly.  How they’ve surprised me and changed my view of the world.  How they’ve taught me that there is so much more beauty in what is real, flawed, and inelegant than that which is perfect and staged.  

For now, I’ll keep the two trees because everybody is happy.  Well, happy-ish.  (The younger three want my favorite tree to take center stage in the living room.)  Maybe someday we can have one tree with both the colorful lights and the white lights, the perfectly coordinated ornaments and the weird green snowmen.  But most of all, I hope that someday (not any time soon, but someday) wild and opinionated kids explode into the world of my kids, splashing color all over their lives, and showing them everything that’s truly beautiful.

Tuesday, August 13, 2019

Call Me Crazy

So I had this conversation with my oldest daughters the other day.  I was trying on a gingham tie-front shirt that I thought looked super cute... except that I have this disorder.  I really can’t think of a better word for it.  Basically it goes like this: I love clothes, but if a clothing item looks a little too... something... and I can’t/ don’t feel 100% like myself in it, I get weird.  For instance, I love a good Breton-stripe tee, but I have to be careful what I pair it with so that I don’t feel too much like Smee or another pirate and finish every sentence with, “Aaargh, matey!”.  

Anyway, as cute as I thought this shirt was, I felt a tiny bit too much like a country bumpkin in it, and I was scared of the effect that might have on me.  So I asked the girls, “Be honest.  Do I look like I’m headed to a hoedown right now?”  

“No,” said one, and, “Yes,” said the other at the exact same time.  

“You guys are no help,” I sighed as the shirt’s powers took over, and I did a little jig followed by a knee-slap.

“And you’re very strange,” the “yes” daughter replied.

I have to admit, I can’t argue with that.  I have a whole list of things you might/ probably would find weird.  For instance:

- I need my room to be completely dark when I’m sleeping.  To that end, I can’t have any clocks or little TV/ air conditioner/ charger lights that stay show.  Matt knows this about me, and I’m not kidding, I feel so loved when we walk into a hotel room and he immediately covers up the alarm clock by the bed.  I have tried a sleeping mask, and yeah, it helps but it also moves and makes my hair crazy and leaves wrinkles on my face.  

- I cry super easily.  I’ve mentioned this here before, but I can go from laughing to crying to laughing in the span of oh, thirty seconds or so, and it freaks some people out.

- I’m very DIY about a lot of things, like coloring my own hair (though I usually leave the cutting to the professionals!), plucking my own eyebrows, and not having a house cleaner.  It  would definitely be a good idea, but seeing all my friends who have them and clean before the cleaning lady comes...? No thank you!  This DIY attitude extends to home remedies and health practices, and includes a slight obsession with Apple Cider Vinegar. *heart eyes*

- I almost never wear mascara, but when I do, it virtually guarantees I will cry that day.  Similarly, I can go all week without spilling food on myself, but if I’m wearing a white t-shirt, I will definitely spill something and it will almost for sure be spaghetti sauce, curry, or salsa.

- I’m an avid tea-drinker, but strongly dislike green tea.  You might even say I hate it.

- I had an eating disorder when I was 14. 

- I’ve never been drunk. It’s not that I “don’t drink”; I just don’t drink to get drunk and almost never drink alcohol anyway.  Matt sometimes calls me “Two-beer Joy” because, he says, regular me is like most people who have had two beers.  I don’t know if this is a compliment or not...

Maybe you’re reading this and *fingers crossed* thinking, That’s not crazy at all! If so, *high five*!!  But every now and then my craziness really shines through.  If you’ve been reading my blog for awhile and recall The Bear Story, (for one) this is hardly news.  And the other day, my crazy had another moment of glory.  

I spent almost a month in California with the kids.  We had a fantastic time, but I was at least a little short on sleep for most of the trip.  When we got home, back to my own wonderful bed in my very dark room, I slept hard.  So hard, in fact, that when jet-lag caused me to stir, I had a moment of not knowing where I was — or even, for that matter, who I was, and almost more importantly, who that guy in my bed (aka my husband of 22 years) was.  

This part of the story is hearsay because as I mentioned, I was really not in my right mind, but apparently, I tapped my dear husband on the shoulder very lightly, and with my face right up in his and my eyes open and kind of glazed, said, “What. The heck.”

Now if you’ve read The Bear Story, you know I don’t normally talk so clearly in my sleep, so I would call this not sleep per se, but jetlag-induced delirium.  And it freaked my husband out.  He woke up to his wife’s face right in his with perhaps a bit of a wild look about it with her fingers tickling his shoulder, and (this part I do remember) he man-screamed.  

He says it was his battle cry. His version of the story = Braveheart.

I say it was a man-scream. My version of the story = Home Alone.

It jarred me enough to come to my senses.  “Why are you screaming in my face?” I asked, not just a little annoyed.

“Why are you tapping on my shoulder and acting like a psycho in the middle of the night??!”  

“I’m not, I was just lying here sleeping.”

“Nope,” he said, lying back on his pillow, “nope nope nope.  That was definitely not just sleeping.”  The story came out, and soon we were laughing hysterically and admitting we should probably text the neighbors (we share a bedroom wall after all!) that we were okay.  

Anyway, I’m sharing this today because you may have noticed that it’s been.... oh, like six months since my last blog post.  Without a doubt, I could point to my general busyness, and sometimes that’s the whole truth and nothing but the truth.   

But a lot of the time, the reason I don’t blog more is because I’m scared.  Which is ironic because in most areas of life, I claim to be confident.  I preach confidence to my kids, but can’t push past my fears to type words in my heart.  

It’s just that when I look at social media or other blogs, I don’t feel perfect enough, inspiring enough, put-together enough, etc. to post anything.  I read articles about how to make my blog better, and frankly, it just makes me freeze up.  I don’t want to and frankly can’t give life advice with any amount of seriousness or give you tutorials for how to make your house/ hair/ life look better in five easy steps.  Life is messy and complicated, and I’m even messier.  


During my writing break I started playing the keyboard with the chapel here.  This has been the most unexpected gift.  Just as I was thinking about writing this, I was listening to the songs we are doing this week, and one is an updated version of the old hymn “Just As I Am” which is wonderful in and of itself, but now it has an added chorus:

I come broken to be mended, I come wounded to be healed.

I come desperate to be rescued, I come empty to be filled,

I come guilty to be pardoned by the blood of Christ the Lamb

And I’m welcomed with open arms, Praise God just as I am.

(— Travis Cottrell, listen to it here)

It’s probably not the last time I’ll freeze up and stop writing out of fear, but these words pushed me to come back and publish this post.  

Here’s what I know: I will never be the girl with the perfect house and hair and makeup and life.  I’ll be the girl who sometimes yells at her not-always-angelic kids and occasionally terrifies her husband in the dead of night; who can’t use a curling iron particularly well but is just happy if there’s no food in her hair; who usually has a sort of messy, noisy house; and who often finds herself in unexpected awkward situations.  

But I do so love telling stories and honestly engaging with people.  Writing shapes my perspective and helps me see a little more clearly.  I’ve missed it.  And also, I will spend my life saying anything good you see in this craziness is not because of me but because of what Jesus has done for me.

So I’m back and writing here again because I’ve realized that maybe the world needs one blog with a girl just saying, “Hey, I’m a little crazy.  You are too?  Cool.  Sit down, let’s talk.””

Wednesday, January 23, 2019

I Saw the Sign

It was a very normal day.  There I was at the Daiso, which is the Dollar Store here but way better.  Annalee was with me and needed a nap.  I was thinking about dinner and the kids and what time my husband was likely to get home.  As I perused the aisles looking for a new liquid soap dispenser, I saw it.  There, like a message from above, was a toilet seat with lid inscribed with these most inspiring words: “Find joy in the ordinary”.  

I just have to say, one of my favorite things about living overseas is the signage.  It adds so much delight to my life.

Well, okay, I can’t lie: as a foreigner, some of the signs are downright confusing.  Do I push or pull?

Is it a yes or a no?  
Am I coming or going?  
Also, and maybe most importantly, what time is 24:07?
I sure could use an extra seven minutes in my day!

I know how easy it is to misinterpret language especially on menus (says the vegetarian who once ordered a giant leg of lamb) (and that was before Google Translate came along and further muddled things), but these do not sound appetizing. At all.

Also, I went down this aisle many times but never could find the sand among the biscuits, candy, and chocolate.  Probably for the best!!

Some of the signs make me think Koreans just get me.  

Coffee — okay, usually tea for me — is magic! 
 “Strange but sweet”, seen on a bag of apples, is probably the three-word description most people would use for me (except for maybe certain taxi drivers in Shanghai).   And I’m pretty sure I’ve given people the exact warning on this rotti bun bag: “Don’t bite me or you will love me.”

There was this sign, which sounds like good advice,
 but makes me worry a little about what happens when they’re over two.

Other signs make me think they’re just trying to ruin all my fun.
 If I can’t feed fingers to the petting zoo, what even is the point in going?  Then again, they do want me to provoke the animals, and that could be entertaining.

Some of the signs make me laugh just because.  

I can’t really explain it. 

Some are hilarious in an absolutely terrifying way, like this one at the dentist above a picture of a titanium screw going into a gum.  “Have a health & Shiny tooth.  All the happiness in the world, Your smile is started.”
The best I’ve ever seen, though, was a year ago, when I was having so much trouble with our property manager in Busan.  It had been a long week of endlessly drying windows like it was my job, and there were several other things weighing heavily on my mind.  That’s when I looked up in the elevator and saw this gem.  Most of it is... well, a bit puzzling, to say the least.  But one part is crystal clear.  

I actually doubled over laughing right there in the elevator.

Here’s the thing: I love these signs because they are actual signs — reminders — that I should always keep my eyes open.  I mean, sure, I don’t usually lift the lid of the toilet seat and find joy in what’s underneath.  In fact, sometimes what I find there can be really stressful.  Unless I really need to go — that has definitely happened!  All joking aside, though, there’s almost always something beautiful, hilarious, or poignant to see as long as I don’t get bogged down and forget to look around me.

Still, if you lift the lid of your toilet seat and find me… send help.

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Best Things I Bought in 2018

Not gonna lie: I’ve had a lot of buyer’s remorse in my life.  Like my first car, and the piano that cost more than my wedding, to name two, and all the high heels I’ve ever bought.  But every now and then, I buy something and think, Good move, Joy. 

Like this past weekend... it was warmer!  After a month of freezing or below temperatures, it was the low 40’s Fahrenheit.  Buuuut, Korea is experiencing its unfortunately all-to-frequent bad air quality days.  The current Air Quality Index (AQI) was over 180 today last I checked, so the kids have been indoors.  I think we might all be kind of losing our minds at the moment, except for Christmas we gave the kids something that I think is pretty ingenious.  (See below!)  And that got me to thinking about the things I got this year that were actually great buys.  

Please understand, I’m definitely not advocating thoughtless consumerism or filling your house with more clutter — that’s not what this blog is about.  These are just things that have made my life/ sanity/ health/ the environment better — in other words, brought me joy.  I wanted to tell you about them in case you have maybe have some extra Christmas money or gift cards to spend, or are just looking for some darn good ideas.

1 — Reusable produce bags.  It’s been growing inside of me, this sort of mix of panic and disgust at the amount of plastic in our lives.  I’ve read about how little of it is actually recycled and how plastic is showing up in everything — yep, everything.  When I went to Haedong Yongungsa, the Temple by the Sea in Busan, I was so disheartened to see an enormous table completely covered with plastic cups and straws from cafés very near the entrance.  There was a garbage can right beside it — which is a rare sight in Korea — but it was overflowing with the same.  It was such a jarring picture, something so ugly next to something so beautiful, and especially given the proximity to the ocean and knowing the dangers of plastic to marine life.  But moreover, it was just the excess of plastic and the awareness that this was just the tiniest fraction of what is used worldwide.  So at that moment, I decided to start doing more to curb my own plastic consumption, a decision I referenced in my last post.  One step I took was purchasing these reusable produce bags.  I was already using reusable shopping bags, but still stuck my produce in those filmy plastic ones that come off the roller in the store.  These are great — very sturdy and easy to see through.  I thought the cashiers would say something about them, but so far, no one has batted an eyelash.  I love them!  I plan to buy more soon.   

2 — Cloth handkerchiefs.  So along these lines, I also thought I would get myself some cloth handkerchiefs.  My parents’ colleagues during my childhood were almost all British and Australians, and they used cloth hankies.  So this seemed like an obvious, easy choice to me.  I was surprised by some of the comments I got, though, about them: “Gross.”  “So, like, you just keep using those all day?  How is that sanitary?” It’s really no less sanitary than a Kleenex if you think about it, though.  I think the real problem is that we’ve come to think of disposable as cleaner (I got the same kind of comments when I cloth-diapered).  The only slight problem I have with them is that they are definitely bulkier than Kleenex, but I think that’s something I’m okay with.

3 — These reusable shopping bags.  I almost forgot to mention these, but then I was using them yesterday and two people asked about them.  I have bigger bags that I typically use for groceries, but sometimes I forget to grab them from the car.  These fit in my purse — okay, fine, mom bag — and I use them all the time and love them so much.  

4 — Tea Tree Shampoo from Maple Holistics.  I have a really sensitive, problematic scalp.  I used wash it every day with regular shampoo (i.e. the kind with sulfates and parabens and everything scary), but got red painful bumps, almost like it was breaking out.  When I switched to a sulfate-free shampoo, it was better but never great, becoming greasy when I didn’t wash every day.  Enter these shampoos from Maple Holistics.  I’ve tried the Sage and the Degreaser and also like them a lot, but this is my favorite.  I can easily go 2-3 days between washes using them, which is supposed to be better for your hair and scalp.  I use it on my kids too. Our hair is soft and healthy, and I’m so glad I found these.

5 — Manuka honey bandaids.  When Lilly cut her foot this past summer, I followed the doctor’s orders to a tee, but it just looked like it wasn’t healing right.  Every time I changed the dressing we were that much closer to returning to Korea, and my stress level about the possibility of complications while traveling was going up.  We were staying at my sister’s house, and she told me about how my brother-in-law had used manuka honey bandaids after an impressive spill on his bike earlier in the summer, and how they’d made such a difference.  I kept saying that no, I’d stick to what the doctor gave me, thank you.  But finally, I was desperate enough to give her idea a try.  I am not exaggerating in the least when I say that the next time I changed the dressing there was a noticeable improvement.  By the following day, it looked completely different.  I keep a stock of these now because I cannot believe how much they helped, and I cannot recommend them enough.

6 — Atlas Obscura: Explorers Guide for the World’s Most Adventurous Kid.  Wyatt is obsessed with geography, and I have acquired a few great atlases this year as I homeschool him.  But I thought this would be a fun bonus for him, and I gave it to him for his birthday.  It was one of his favorite gifts, and honestly, the whole family — my parents included — enjoys reading it!  If you or someone you know is a geography nut, don’t miss this book!

7 — These “bean” bags

Lilly gets the credit for this discovery.  She was trying to figure out a good place to store her stuffed animals when she came across these.  Hanging things on walls is not a great option in Korea (concrete covered in really delicate wallpaper!), so those toy hammocks wouldn’t work.  Plus we always seem to need more seating anyway.  She asked if we could get one and after reading about them, I bought three.  We have stuffies we can’t part with, plus beloved baby blankets, plus sleeping bags and spare pillows, and only so much storage space.  These were the perfect solution.  Everything is easily accessible for sleepovers and movies nights, but also tucked away and providing bonus seating when we need to flop over and read.  As I write this, I think we actually need one more!

8 — This indoor gym.  This thing is saving our collective sanity this weekend!  I came across it when I was looking for homeschool supplies last fall, and I told Matt, “I think we need this.”  He took one look and said, “BUY IT!!!  NOW!!!”  It comes with a rope ladder, a swing, a trapeze bar, and a gymnastics rings that can be changed out, and you can install it or take it down in a flash.One caveat: the only door it fits in our whole house is in one bathroom because Korea.  I think in most stateside houses it would be fine.  Due to this issue, we almost returned it.  But now, a few weeks later, I’m so glad we kept it.  It’s kept the kids busy getting their wiggles out, given them “vestibular stimulation” (which my OT mom and sister tell me is muy importante for all kids), and has caused plenty of fights about whose turn it is to use.  Sure they’re swinging by the toilet, but it’s things like that that keep life interesting, right?


So there you have it, the 8 best things I bought in 2018!  How about you?  Did you find something that was a total game-changer?  I’d love to hear!

Thursday, January 3, 2019

A Good Look Around: 2018

Can I be really honest?  New Year’s resolutions kind of terrify me.  Everyone has been posting about motivation and “hustle” and setting goals for this year, and even though I’m doing all those things too, I start questioning myself.  Am I aiming high enough?  Too unrealistically high?  What if I fail?  What if I look stupid?

Now it’s January 4th.  2019 is already old enough for me to have done some regular things, like working out and homeschooling, to say or do things I regret (am I the only one?), and to implement the things I’m trying for the new year.  In case you’re like me, I’m writing down my “to-done list” for 2018 — the things I did well, and the things I could have done better — and some of what I’m working on in 2019, plus some thoughts that really did motivate and encourage me with the hope that they encourage you as well.

In 2018, I:

— maintained a pretty healthy lifestyle.  Don’t get me wrong: we have and love our treats.  But I stuck to my plant-based diet and worked out for at least half an hour at least five times a week, even when I was traveling last summer and moving to our new home without Matt.  It keeps me sane, and I’m glad I did it.

— blogged more than I did last year, which was one of my goals.  I hope to do even better this year, but at least I managed to do at least one post a month.

— read more books last year!  I read 25 books for myself, and 18 read-alouds to my kids.  Considering that 4 of those read-alouds were realllllyyyyy long Harry Potter books, and there were some others that were a hefty length as well, I am pretty happy with this.  But this is only one more book for myself than last year.  I’d like to hit 30 books for myself this year, and at least 18 again for the kids. 

— started homeschooling again with Lilly, Wyatt, and Annalee.  This hasn’t always been an easy choice, and time and again it’s meant doing things that maybe didn’t make sense to other people, even those within the homeschool community, but I feel like we are starting this year on the right foot.

took my kids to three countries, and four if you count the time I was at the DMZ and stepped across the border into North Korea.  They didn’t all turn out the way I wanted; I came home from one of those trips reeking of vomit that was not my own.  But I’m so glad we did them.  I’d love to do more travel with the kids this year, and we are talking about some trips — hopefully more with Matt, too.

— participated in Dressember.  I’m not very good at sticking to something for 31 days (I’m looking at you, 31 Days of Blogging 2014!!!).  But I actually did this.  I wore a dress every day in the month of December in an attempt to raise awareness about human trafficking and funds to help fight it.  There’s so much I learned that I am going to make this a separate blog post, but the fundraising side of it is continuing through January, Human Trafficking Awareness Month, so consider popping over to my fundraising page to learn more.

A few things I’m working on this year:

— being on time to things.  Matt is one of those people who, if he’s not half an hour early, he considers himself late.  I’m more like the shows-up-10-minutes-late-(at-least) kind of person.  It’s caused some tension in our marriage, to be honest.  If I have an appointment or meeting prior to 10 am, it’s almost impossible for me to get there on time, at least with all my kids and looking presentable.  But we had a weekly homeschool activity at 9 am, and twice I was actually on time to it, having worked out and showered and fed everyone. (*bows to [imagined] thunderous applause and roses thrown onto stage*)   I felt so good about it, I kind of told everyone about it, and realized I wanted to keep doing that more. 

— writing more.  I did 38 blog posts in 2018; I’m shooting for 40.  Moreover, though, I am shooting for at least twenty minutes of writing a day.  Of course, I’d like to do more, but this would be a good minimum if I actually did that every day.

— keeping a prayer journal.  A few years ago, I did this and did it well.  I’d write three things I was grateful for and then write my prayer requests.  I found the last one I did the other day and realized how badly I need to start this up again.

— being kinder to the planet.  Last year I got to this point of being really fed up with the amount of plastic in my life, so I’ve been working on ways to reduce that (more on this coming!).  After participating in Dressember, I’m also looking especially hard at ethical business practices, and the companies that implement them also tend to be “greener”.  I’ve already started scrutinizing what I purchase as a result, even not buying things because of what I learned, and I plan to continue down this path.  It’s hard to put a number on this.  I wanted to say, “I will buy nothing made of plastic this year!” except I realized how hard it would be to follow through.  I mean, even dental floss comes with plastic!  But I’m committing to some practices that I plan to tell you more about soon.

A couple things have quieted my resolution fear these past few days.  First, I remembered the words in Love Does that Bob Goff writes, “I used to be afraid of failing at something that really mattered to me, but now I’m more afraid of succeeding at things that don’t matter.”  I want to be sure I have time to hug my babies (even the adult one!) and have real conversations with my husband because it’s so easy to feel disconnected in the busyness of our lives.  I want to have more play dates with friends because they’re good for my kids and me.  I want to give more to things that matter to my heart.

Finally, something that has struck me over and over again in the past year, is my gratitude for my friends, for people who love me in spite of myself.  In 2018, I had a chance to connect with people who knew me when I would say I was at my very worst — when you’d look up “hot mess” in the dictionary and there’d be a big picture of me with a neon highlighter encircling it.  These people spoke truth into my life then and loved me. Last year, through the littlest words that maybe they didn’t even realize meant so much, they spoke truth again that managed to both humble me —“How could someone love even me?”— and build me up — “I’m truly loved”.  

I had plenty of challenges this past year, too.  I struggled with wondering if what I do matters; I heard the message loud and clear that I was failing.  But then as we watched It’s a Wonderful Life in December, the note Clarence leaves George in the copy of Tom Sawyer really stuck out to me:

“Remember, no man is a failure who has friends.”

My hope is that whatever 2019 has in store for you and me, we remember this (a quote originally attributed to Mark Twain) and remember that we are loved, and we strive to be good friends and speak words of life and truth and love to others.  I believe if we do that, failure is impossible.