Friendship is a house. 

Like a shelter, friendship is a house. It is built on words , they are the foundation. You lay words of love and encouragement like bricks on the bottom. Then you insulate with time, time spent listening and believing in each other’s dreams, hopes, and sorting out the struggles.You can spend years insulating and shoring up the walls for the future winds that blow.  And then you paint the walls of your friendship with deeds. Some tiny , like a letter in the mail, and some huge like a birthday extravaganza.  You can decorate your friendship with laughter, and tears, memories of births, weddings, school plays and a million dinners. There is always time to add rooms or update this sweet house. But if you neglect your house, there will be weak spots , and dry rot . And what looks strong from the outside could be deceiving .You can get lost in the rubble when it comes crashing down. I encourage you, take a minute, check the foundation of your friendship . Need to lay a few words down? Give some time . Don’t hold things so closely to yourself. Share. And when the storms of life rage , you will find yourself running to that shelter again and again. If you are lucky, there will be more than one shelter to run for when the rain pours, there will be a community ! And a neighborhood party when the sun comes out again!  


” I am so strong” giggle giggle 

it’s one of those rare days. The ones where you feel like you can get it all done. That anything is possible … Like getting that 30lb bag of dog food in your cart? (You know who you are.) The truth is ANYTHING is possible , every day . With God. I am asking for a greater capacity to receive the strength that he has for me. An increased ability to see what he has placed inside me. Bigger eyes to to see ME with. Bigger ears to hear HIM with. So, today , I celebrate all of you out there right now, in car line, at the grocery store , at the dmv, the post office, in your office , at home teaching. Women , strong and beautiful , with words of life for those around you. Women with arms strong enough to hold your babies and your husbands and basically , the universe together. Women strong enough to call out the strong in each other ,even on the days that we feel less than. I love this day, and I’m going to remember it. 

Truth and dirt.

ImageSometimes I have a piss poor attitude. Don’t get me wrong, it’s justified. That doesn’t make it right. I am giving ownership of the afore mentioned attitude to Jesus. I have to. It’s toxic. I have been so stressed out over every little decision that my kids are making lately, that I literally have an ulcer. That is not abundant life. That’s BULL. And now, I  have to give credit where credit is due…Erin had such a timely word this week ! She said that the Lord had showed her that she was no longer the blossoms on the tree, but that she was the root system now…growing deep underground. As she spoke, I envisioned what she was saying…my mind could see and even smell the dark, rich soil where the roots are growing, and spreading through. It was beautiful and revealing. There is a season of flowering, but it gives way to a time of maturing, of standing strong. I have given my kids all my attention, all my heart, and now I have to trust that the Father is holding them. I don’t want to squeeze the life out of them, I want to hold on loosely. Now is the time for me to enjoy, my root system is in place….the sweet fragrance of the deep is all around….aaahhh.

All parts of the whole.

Months ago I was part of planning a women’s retreat. I was happy to be asked to help, so I said yes, even though, I didn’t really feel like I had anything to offer. As it turned out my hob was purchasing stones from a craft store, and writing words on them. Not just words…names. Names that our Father calls us by, even though we may not recognize them. I see it as ….leaning into your name. For most of us, it takes practice. Back to the story. I bought the stones, not really feeling that inspired. But, as I started to pray for help, it came. My help came in the form of some very special names for these stones. I started to realize the power in , simply asking. I noticed one of the stones was shaped like a heart. THIS inspired me. The Lord said…wholehearted, thats what this rock will say. I thought it was remarkable. I was actually envious of the woman who would choose this rock, the woman that would have her Father look upon her, and call her name WHOLEHEARTED.

The night before the retreat the ladies and I gathered for an intimate time of sharing. We decided to pull our stones early, and pray for each other. I told them about the heart shaped one, and how my excitement was building to see the woman that would choose it. We all close our eyes ( at least I did), and prayed. These ladies , each so special, with open hearts, and ears…silently picked my rock for me. wholehearted.  I was wrecked, and tried in my own power to figure out all that it meant. There was some healing that took place inside me that weekend, but God is always working in the big picture, and I usually, am not. Just when I thought I had it figured out…..I listened to a beautiful talk the other day on my lunch break. In my car. With tears streaming down my face, he revealed more.

The talk was given by a lady named Brene Brown. She is a researcher, and a storyteller. She spent six years gathering data, and stories about Connection. Interestingly enough ,all of the stories of connection had a whole to do with shame, and heartbreak. It became evident that there were two groups of people, the ones with valid connections, and the ones who were always seeking connection, but never quite finding what they were looking for. The only difference she could find after examining her data over and over….the ones with true connections believed that they were WORTH loving, and knowing, the others simply….did not. She typed up this data, and she put it in a folder. On the front of the folder she wrote…Wholehearted. Do you see why I was crying over my chick-fil-a that day ? HE brought it back around, when I had not thought of my name in months, there it was. Revelation.

I have been moaning, lamenting really, my lack of connection. I don’t want to come to a Bible study, and look at all the other people’s connections. I want to be invited to coffee, to a group of girls’ night out. I was being very picky. What the Lord revealed to me was that I hide who I am, therefore making it impossible for women to make a real connection with me. What ? Me ? Have you read my blog Lord ? He said yes, it doesn’t count. It makes you feel transparent, but it’s not enough. Angie- you have to have enough courage to be vulnerable. I am working on it.

He already calls me, wholehearted. And he knows me better than anyone else. I accept that I will spend the rest of my life living up to the name. I have been blessed with a few women who are courageous enough to be vulnerable with me. Those women amaze me, consistently. I am learning to tell the story of who I am, not on this blog, but in real life.

Ok ya’ll.  I say ya’ll because this is South Carolina, and that was how I was raised.  I like it. Tonight,  I’m going to let it fly.  Random thoughts.  I don’t know if this post will ever see the light of day, but oh my, how I have missed you. It’s 8:30 , I’m eating nachos (gasp), I still have on every part of my work costume, from the earrings to the shoes….I came in to a storm of  he said, she said…where is she ? Can I go here ? He hurt my feelings. Thomas is working on at least 4 things at one time, and I think…aaahhh work was nice.  Just kidding.  Now that I work, I live for the weekend.  It’s solid gold to me. Even cleaning is a pleasure.  God, I miss Erin. (i mean that as a prayer).  Thomas has been so good since the whole work thing, keeping it all together, thats a gift of his.  And I am grateful.  Keeping it together….not my gift. Tearing it apart ? yes, can do….causing  a scene, losing all hope ? Yes, and yes.  Again, I say, I am grateful to him. I love him.  BUT…..since I am letting it fly, I thought I’d write a letter.

Dear friend that could’ve been, but is not,

Why do you make me feel like I am not worth your time ? My heart is good, and real. My stories are funny, and my advice right on. You don’t actually have it all figured out. I give up. No more liking your photos on facebook, fake air kissing at church, my heart is done. I wish you well, but I won’t sit around wondering why you don’t give me the time of day.


the best friend you never had.

Please don’t take offense at this. It’s real. That’s all. I’m venting, and letting my fingers fly. I am a daughter ( not the best, looking back), a sister ( selfish), a wife ( hard to deal with  at times), a mother (all in…to a fault), and a friend (loyal, sensitive, over analyzing, sweet, sad) , to some.

Time for P.J. ‘s….this week has lasted a year, and my head is full.  Man-child is at the football game, and the littles (who are not little) are playing a game of RISK with their dad.  And there you have it.






the written word.

I got a job.  A full time job.  Talk about a shock to the system.  I am tired mentally, and physically.  I have been in pjs all day today ….just because I can be.   I have worried about the transition a lot.  That is putting it mildly, I have obsessed about how the kids will do, and how the house will run. So far …so good.  I had an idea to get a notebook for Belle, and one for Z.  I write in this notebook every night before bed, and then leave it out in the kitchen for them to read when they get home from school the  next afternoon. It has a list of things for them to do, get a snack, start homework, take out the trash….and then I write a paragraph or so asking about their day, telling them that I can’t wait to get home,  and see their faces, and to write me back if they want to.  So far Belle has written both days, Z none.  Shocking.  Not really. I’m not sure the notebooks mean anything to them yet, but they mean everything to me. There is power in the written word. The power to speak to their spirits even though I’m not with them. There is power in showing them that you have the time to sit down and write, even though you don’t get to come for the field trip.  That notebook goes a long way toward easing my mommy guilt. I recommend it, even if you don’t work.  Sometimes you can be far away even when you are at home.

The husband of a dear friend of mine wrote her a poem. He is not a poet, or a writer, but his spirit is connected to the LOVER above all other lovers, and he listened to his heart, and wrote the most beautiful love letter. There is power in the written word. Power, and healing, and…hope.