I’ve been in San Diego for a work conference since Wednesday. When this trip was planned back in January, it only made sense to take advantage of being on the West coast and extend my time here with a mini-vacation with Reid. With friends in San Francisco that we rarely get to see, it was an easy decision to book a flight to get Reid out here, too. Continue reading
Life is profound. I’ve found myself using the word profound a lot lately. It perfectly describes too many situations for us these days.
Like the other night when Reid and I were fighting and everything around the room felt tense and impossible, my Amazon radio station that randomly shuffles over 200 songs, played 7 songs in a row that happen to be my favorite worship songs. They’re my favorites because for they’ve each spoken to my heart one or more times and I’m moved even still when I hear them. There are no coincidences in this life. God had my back (and my heart) in those moments. Continue reading
One year ago yesterday, I shared my very first blog post on this site. I actually bought this laptop for the sole purpose of starting this blog.
It wasn’t the first time I had written on the internet; I had a Tumblr account that I piddled with once-upon-a-time. But, when this site was born last February, it was different.
I’d been pulled in a direction that led me to write again, but this time, it’d be different. I had recently made the decision to leave my career to stay at home and be a mom. I felt God telling me to be patient and not to worry, but to slow down. I knew I’d have to find ways to make money from home and did a little bit of research on making money through blogging. But that wasn’t what was important to me. I was eager to walk in my truth and tell my story.
I felt called to put my creative gifts and love for communication and passion for inspiring others to the test, creating the ultimate trifecta. Writing gave me life and fulfillment and sprinkled pure joy in my days. (I pray it always will.)
What may come as a surprise, however, is that when I get the urge to write, it stops me in my tracks. My blog post ideas l i t e r a l l y come out of nowhere, and I usually have to stop what I am doing and go write. And the not-so-cool part about it is: I can’t stand writing from my phone or tablet. It MUST be on a laptop or something with keys. That I can aggressively and quickly bang (ask my new co-workers/roommates or darling husband, they will attest to my annoyingly loud typing. Bless them all for their tolerance.) But my point is, I have to get to my computer, dial up my diffuser and get busy. I’m not much of a mobile blogger much at all. Ever, really.
But y’all. I can’t help it. I just get moved to say stuff. All the feels. ALL THE JOY.
When I opened my laptop to pull up WordPress to write this post tonight, I noticed a folder on my desktop that I created a few months ago: “Things That Move Me”.
I only saved one thing in it…
This quote says so much about my journey last year. There was so much uncertainty and many faith-based decisions. I had no idea when I started this blog what it’d lead to. I just figured I’d inconsistently write when I felt the urge. I wrote each post from the heart and was sincerely moved by each opportunity to share my journey with a friend or stranger.
Writing became my safe space. My release. My peace.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think that 2,220 people would view my site 3,288 times in 27 countries all over the world in just one year. Goodness gracious, am I grateful.
I’m deeply touched for each blink of an eye that my words sit between. I appreciate each kind remark and comment. It’s been an honor to share my heart with you.
To think about all that’s happened since this blog began brings me back to grace, and gratitude, and awestruck wonder. God’s led me into deeper waters. I never want to feel like I’ve arrived, but I sure do long for more.
If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s that this time of year is just not my best. I battle darkness during this season each year of my life. I’m certain lots of us do. I’m thankful that things like writing and hot yoga and coffee and worship music bring me back to life on tough days.
Here is to Spring being around the corner. But for now, may we ride the wave of this season together and keep our eyes on what we can’t see. There’s beauty there.
Day four of Kindergarten is in the books. Sadler couldn’t be happier right now in these moments of her life.
I’ve had all the feels this week about this whole starting school thing.
Filling out the form, using only 5 words to describe my only 5-year-old…my baby. I had never truly thought of words to describe her before. Just last week as we rode in the car, Reid and I gave our input on who we saw our daughter to be; I was filling in her name, and her strengths and weaknesses, and her “hot buttons”. It was heartwarming to come up with the best five words that we thought described our girl, together: STRONG-WILLED, KIND, TENDERHEARTED, LEADER, INTELLIGENT.
As I wrote the words in the paper, I began to cry. Who were we talking about here? Sadler, or me?
It’s so hard as a parent (at least for me at this place in my journey) when you see things in your children, qualities about them, similarities in their behavior, predictability in how they’ll answer questions…and you feel like you’re looking in the mirror.
I’ve coming to learn and accept that I am my own best teacher, but this little girl runs a real tight second. She teaches me things about myself, and I try to teach her things about herself because I just know how she sees life. Sometimes it’s as if we share the same eyes.
She speaks my language. She gets me and I get her. I feel so incredibly lucky that she is mine.
But I want her to find her way in her way. I don’t ever want to be a tug of influence, but rather a beam of guidance that just leads her there, on her own.
She’s a 1. I’m a 1, too.
So I know for her, it can seem like we are the only ones with the only way. Our hearts are protected yet open, and our ideas are bigger than us it seems. Yet we know we can always push harder.
Time-blocking. When I have (let’s be real, when I make) the time to actually block the time. It happens sometimes. We’ll call it 50 percent.
Meditating (actually just discovered Light Sourcing by Rebecca Campbell in her INCREDIBLE BOOK, “Light is the New Black”). My mornings have become my favorite time of the day for more reasons than this one.
Hot yoga when I have someone to watch the girls (aka – when Reid gets home from work or really early on Saturday mornings). I’d go every single day if it were possible. It’s my sanctuary.
Lots of oils. I love and find comfort in knowing than whenever things get heavy, I can count on my oils for safety and solace. They usually change the game for me so profoundly that I’m moved to tell someone or make a Facebook live video about my experience.
Affirmations. Written on a whiteboard, to be repeated each morning. Out loud. Because I know the power of the spoken word.
Lots of deep personal development through books. Mindset transformations about money and budgeting. Journaling.
I’m doing so many of the things. I’ve created so many positive habits. Yet, I still find myself feeling out of balance.
I’m learning to soften into who I am. We all need to.
I’m so worried about getting it all done that I can’t lose sight of what I’m doing it all for.
I’ve prayed for answers for quite some time now. Shortly after (and sometimes during), I look up to see a squirrel balancing along the power line right in front of me. It’s like he comes out of thin air. I see that as God telling me to keep my footing, just one in front of the other. Slow and steady.
Because as the old Chinese proverb goes, “Be not afraid of going slowly; be only afraid of standing still.”
That’s how many I’ve had to rock you before nap. That’s how many I’ve had to hold you in the heirloom rocking chair in your bedroom, the place we’ve both come to know and love with such intimacy and sacred appreciation.
It’s how many Mondays I’ve had to notice that you like to grab hold of the sides of the rocking chair, one arm at a time, nice long stretches, while your head stays rested on my chest. How you love to hold onto my shoulder with only one arm, like a baby sloth, and you sleep with your mouth open and have a tiny growl of a snore.
It’s how many Mondays I’ve had to feel an inching wonder that you may never stop breastfeeding, and while I appreciate the bond and beauty and all that breastfeeding does for our soul and the souls of mamas and babies all over the world…believe me, I’m so grateful. But I’m ready for it to end.
But then…I can’t help but think that in 24 Mondays from now, you probably won’t want to nurse anymore. You may not even want me to rock you, and who knows if you will even want to be held at all. How many words will you say then? You’ll have a new thing that you do, and a new preference about you. Will you still call it “bbubbbbll” and like to be patted on the butt to be soothed? Will you want to play with your sister, or find solitary adventure without her?
All these things that I think won’t ever stop, they will. That’s just the thing.
And I will miss them.
I’ve come to realize that you’re likely the last one, Everly Jean. The last baby to be birthed and rocked and swaddled and breastfed. The last one. They saved the best for last with you. You’re good, you. Mama loves you, more than you may ever truly know.
I’ve watched you change other people, too. Strangers sometimes. Often times. They connect eyes with you and you give them that toothy smile and your eyes light up like Mama Dot. They see you like I see you.
Life is teaching me that finding gratitude for what shows up in my path, that’s true beauty. That my purpose right now is to be a mother, and to be there for you and your sister when you need me. To teach you to appreciate what you’ve got in life, to be kind to every single person you meet, and to love with all that you’re made of.
Raising and growing you into the lady version of yourself so that you, too can be a mama and a light for your own girls some day.
Knowing that a day will come when you won’t need me at all anymore and I will be lucky if you call me before bedtime each night when you’re all grown up.
All the growth and digging deep in self-discovery over the last year of my life seems to run parallel to your existence. You are wondrous to me, and I may never be able to find the right words to tell you exactly what you are to me. My hope is, that you’ll just see and know like the world sees you.
Perfect wonder, you are, Everly Jean.
I’ll try to stop rushing you to grow up now. Sleep well, our princess. Mama loves you.
Happy Birthday, my sweet child!
It’s been 5 years.
Five years since you joined your Daddy and I on this Earth. I woke up this morning and instantly started to think back. Back to what life was like before you, and the thing is, I can barely remember. You’ve made life more fun, plain and simple.
I remember being pregnant with you and wondering what you’d look like. What your voice would sound like. How old you’d be when you learned to read, and what color eyes you’d have. I remember sitting at Herbie’s eating breakfast with your Daddy the morning you were born. It was a Saturday. You weren’t due until 13 days later, but I had an eerie feeling from the second I woke up that day. Not a scary kind of eerie, just a feeling like I hadn’t felt before. After breakfast, I went to get a prenatal massage (which I don’t rule out as what put me into labor), and then it was Chick Fil A and a movie that afternoon.
We watched Savages. I remember thinking how pretty Blake Lively was, and the movie was pretty intense so it kept me on the edge of my seat (and awake! I usually fall asleep in movies, which I’m sure you know by now).
After the movie, we headed home to get Gladston so we could head out to Uncle Ryan and Aunt Sarah’s house for dinner. When we got to their house, I opened the door, stepped out onto the driveway and there it went. Everywhere. A big, warm gush all over my flip flops, down my legs. I remember crying immediately, I knew it was time.
Your Ga Ga looked at me, deep into my eyes and said, “It’s gonna be ok.”
I don’t think poor Gladston ever even got out of the Jeep. Daddy drove us (safely but quickly) back to the townhouse to get our stuff to get ready to go to the hospital.
I took a shower. I cried more. I prayed, a lot. (Looking back, it wasn’t a time in my life when I was close to God. I rarely prayed, if ever. But in that moment it washed over me as the only thing to do. I cry as I write this, because it reminds me how far I’ve come.)
We got our stuff and headed to the hospital. Since you were breach, and with no success in you re-positioning, a cesarean was planned for 6 days later. But since my water broke and I was now in active labor on my own, things were a little different than my mind had played them out.
We got to the hospital and it was around 5:30 or so. It seemed relatively quiet there, but as luck would have it, the entire hospital was transitioning to a new software THAT DAY and the “go live” date was THAT DAY. So, I sensed panic in the nurses right away.
As we were getting prepped for surgery, something went wrong. I was fortunate enough to have the hottest anesthesiologist in the history of time talking to me and explaining things as the spinal block was going into my back. Your daddy was still in the hallway scrubbing in, and I was gazing into Dr. McDreamy’s eyes, trying not to think about the excruciating pain taking place in my body…when, in walked Dr. Grewal.
In my mind, I to this day think she said Code Red. It could just be that my brain remembers the story that way, I don’t really know. I just remember that that’s when everything changed.
I remember saying, “What’s wrong?!” She grabbed me by the hand and explained to me that your umbilical cord had prolapsed and that the surgery needed to begin immediately. “Incision!” I felt it, left to right. Your daddy still wasn’t there.
“My husband, I need my husband!” Dr. McDreamy held my hand and kept me calm until Reid got in the room.
It felt like hours. They were working hard to get you out of there, and it became clear then to me why you never turned – you couldn’t move! You’d gotten yourself all cozy in there in a position that you couldn’t get out of!
When the nurses and doctor finally got you out, we waited to hear your cry. I couldn’t wait to look at you. To hold you. To nurse you. To kiss you. To smell you.
I got to do all of those things, but they were too fast. Too fast for firsts.
They wheeled me off to recovery, and Daddy took you to the nursery for your bath.
That seemed like the longest 2 hours of my life. I wanted you in my arms. I couldn’t stop shaking. The nurses seemed to ignore me as they stumbled through their new software. I felt so alone, and I couldn’t wait to see your face again.
When I finally did, nothing else mattered anymore. There was no pain. I became overwhelmed with joy. And a sense of love like I’d never known before.
Once we got home, it sort of just became me and you. There were visitors, but we also had lots of time together, alone. I watched you sleep a lot. I slept beside you, and I loved listening to the coo under your breath as you slept.
You were like magic to me. I wanted you near me, all of the time. And you didn’t seem to mind. You were perfect in so many ways. Even strangers would say it. The shape of your face seemed perfectly symmetrical. You were beauty in every form.
I fell in love with baby-wearing. And you were always such a good sport about it. Looking back at this photo, I know that this type of carrier isn’t really ideal for hip support and we only used it this one time, but I remember how proud I was at this very moment to be a mama. To walk around the neighborhood as you slept on my chest, and to feel full. And proud. And that I had done something right in life. Calling you mine was easy, and I felt worthy. You filled me up with love, you see.
Gladston loved you immensely, too. I sure hope you remember him. He sat by your side a lot of the time, and watched you sleep much like I did. We’d pick “Gladston boogers” off your clothes constantly. But we didn’t mind. In fact, I think that’s how he got the name “Booger Bear”.
Watching you grow up into the young lady you are today, well the magic hasn’t stopped. It only continues. Your spirit is stubborn yet true, your soul is genuine and whole, your heart is open and honest, and your imagination inspires me. I love every single thing about you, and couldn’t be more proud to be your mama, Sadler Mae.
I hope today is the best birthday yet and that your Daddy was able to find that unicorn you’ve been asking for.
Something salpingitis. That’s what I remember my doctor saying to me. She was young like me, so the tears in her eyes as she told me made sense to me. But I still didn’t understand. Having children on my own would be very difficult because my fallopian tubes were blocked? I’m sorry, what do you mean exactly? I remember getting in the car and sobbing. We knew we wanted to have a family, and we had already discussed adoption if it truly wasn’t in our plan to have our own children. But I was devastated to think of the possibility.
God proved that doctor wrong and we became pregnant with Sadler in 2011. When we found out we were pregnant, I will never forget the way that I felt. I felt happier and more excited than ever before! I quickly became washed with the gift of motherhood and made my body a temple to prepare for the precious child God would bless us with.
We wanted a boy. I really wanted a boy. I even knew what I wanted to name him. I remember being in the tiny ultrasound room, my parents and Reid’s parents circled the room as we all patiently waited for the technician to tell us. When she said it was a girl…I wept. I think to this day everyone in the room except for my husband thought I was weeping tears of joy. In reality, the tears were fear and disappointment. I felt guilty for being sad that it wasn’t a boy. But deep down, I feared I wouldn’t know how to be a mother to a girl. My mother and I didn’t have the closest of relationships throughout my life, and while I love my mother dearly and am thankful for the journey we rode because it has undoubtedly led me to who and what I am today — I was scared.
Sadler Mae was born on July 12, 2012 via cesarean because she was breach. Her umbilical cord prolapsed while I was being prepped for delivery and what was a normal procedure turned into an emergency situation in the blink of an eye. My husband was still in the hall being scrubbed in when they made the incision to get her out. The anesthesia hadn’t fully kicked in. I wanted my husband’s hand to hold. I wanted his eyes to look into. Within a few seconds, he stood before me, and I don’t think either of us was breathing. We just locked eyes and cried as the doctors and nurses worked to get Sadler out of my body. She was lodged under my ribcage and it took lots of force and unexpected positioning to get her out. And then, the sweetest most anticipated sound my ears ever did wait to hear. She cried. And I breathed. And my life was changed forever.
In January of 2015 I turned 33 and for a birthday gift, someone very special to me took me to see a spiritual advisor. I had been to one once before as a teenager, and honestly didn’t know what to expect as we walked in. One of the things that came up during our conversation was whether or not I would be blessed with another child. Reid and I knew we wanted another child, and I really still wanted to have a son. I had dreamt of my baby Dax. I had seen his face before and held him in my arms. So when I told this to the spiritual advisor that day, I felt the look in her eye but wouldn’t fully understand until a few months later. She gently smiled and told me that “soon enough” I would be pregnant again and reminded me to be patient with God’s plan.
I found out I was pregnant with another baby girl in June of 2015 and Everly Jean was born on December 27. She and I rocked out an amazing vaginal delivery, which was something I wanted more than I even realized until it actually happened. It was intense and long and difficult and painful. But there is no doubt in my mind that the second this child exited my body and joined our family earth side, a spiritual gate opened within my soul and my life became bright with colors I’d never seen before.
I’ve thought often about my conversation with the spiritual advisor that day, and after connecting the dots in some of my own intuition I now believe that we did get our baby Dax. He was living inside me at some point in my life. However, God had Everly held for us and she was waiting. It wasn’t in the plan for baby Dax to be mine on Earth. But it was most certainly his divine plan to give me Everly.
I am weeping as I type this, because I am filled with so much emotion through this realization. We often think we have it all figured out, but we are small in the grand scheme of everything. God has a bigger plan for us all, and doctor’s don’t know everything. Life is a gift and a miracle.
I will celebrate being a mother every day that I’m alive. I enjoyed a beautiful Mother’s Day weekend with my two daughters and husband picking strawberries and just loving on each other. It’s the little things that reset my perspective of my purpose. I’m grateful for these moments.
This has been my view lately. It’s what I see when I look out the back window of my house. In front of this window sits a tall kitchen table with lots of chairs. It’s where I sit (and stand) a lot of the day. It’s where I work.
It was February 1st of this year, and it was the very first day that I was at home in my “new life”. On this day, I recall thinking to myself…”I’m never going to think or say the words: I have to go to work again today/tomorrow…“. I even recall telling my husband about this thought I had. I told him that I was going to make it my goal to never utter those words again. I recall him smirking and saying, “OK babe.” In my heart, these words meant so much more to me than they may seem to you reading them now, or to my husband when he heard them initially. I had felt a shift within myself and knew that I was going to find a way to contribute to our family without ever working outside of the home again.
It was merely a few days later, I was standing in the laundry room listening to my thoughts race back and forth in my head between ideas I’d pondered on ways to work from home. My heart was heavy. I’d been praying about it. Reid and I had been fighting about it. Quitting my job – my CAREER in property management that had provided so many blessings for us over the last decade – was a BIG DEAL. And while my heart may have felt that there was a plan, putting that plan into motion seemed like a more daunting task than I had realized.
On the countertop to my left sat my wooden box of essential oils. Our families wellness cabinet. My reliable emotional health regimen. My daily go-to for at least 5 different reasons for myself or someone in this house.
I remember throwing my head back and literally laughing out loud when this happened. “Really, Lord?!” I cried! Something that had been right at my fingertips every. single. day. for the last two years was now the vehicle to bring income to my family.
What does the word “work” really mean to us anyway? The way I see it, we work to make money. Right?!
So, what if I could make money a non-traditional way? A way in which I never had to “go to work” again, or at least it would never feel that way. And then I read a story about a man:
There once was a man who hauled buckets of water for a living. His job was to haul water every day from the nearest water source, back to his village. Because everyone needed water, he always sold out. If he wanted to make more money, he simply hauled more buckets of water.
After many years of hauling these buckets of water, the man grew tired. Then he had an idea and inspiration! He decided to use his spare time to build a pipeline, so that eventually he could be free of hauling buckets of water, yet still provide water to the people of his village. So, he worked very hard over the next few years to build his pipeline.
The day the man turned on his water spigot, everything changed. He had successfully created an unlimited supply of water for the villagers and himself, resulting in an abundant financial pipeline.
I never knew anything about network marketing. Like most people, I had my own narrow thoughts about what it really was and how it really worked. Prior to this year, I didn’t really care to know about it. I had used the products for the last couple of years and found myself sharing with friends and loved ones naturally. However, I never had an interest in the business side of the company. I then read one book and that was all it took for me to see the vision.
It also hasn’t taken me very long to see that the business venture I’ve launched into is really a personal development company disguised as an essential oil company.
Over the last ninety days, I have grown exponentially as a person.
I have found support in some incredible people who are walking this same journey with me.
I have had the beautiful pleasure of helping other people get started on this very same journey. While their pace may be different or their approach unique to my own, the journey is theirs – and I get to be a part in helping them reach their goals.
I have found a way to utilize all of the business skills I acquired and sharpened over the past decade in order to propel my business forward.
Reading this book opened my eyes to living on purpose and gave me a powerful inspiring approach to managing all of the goals in my life and has made them more attainable and the reward seem more gratifying.
I’ve also learned that at an early age, we give ourselves limiting beliefs on what we should do and feel and think and say. By doing this, we have fears that we may never breakthrough. Reading this book has been an eye-opening way to change this mindset altogether for me personally, and has taught me to face my fears head on and then to watch them dissipate.
I have taken a deep dive in, head first and will never look back.
If you find yourself feeling as if you are just going through the motions in your life, you probably are.
If you stare at the ceiling at night thinking that there has got to be a better way to live life, there definitely is.
We were all put on this Earth to do something more than just pay bills.
Life is meant to be LIVED. We should not have to haul buckets for hours upon days upon weeks upon years.
Time is not something meant to hold us captive by all that we “have to do”. Time is actually in abundance if you can learn to shift your mindset about what’s actually important to you. Only then will you see that time is a gift, not a limitation.
I look forward to life now more so than ever. I truly welcome each day as a new gift from God and am so thankful to be able to carry out the plans He has in store for me. My heart remains full so that I may pour into others.
I went from working 40-50 hours a week outside of the home to working about 15 hours per week inside the home and am on a path to replace the income I once earned by the Fall of this year. This opportunity has proved itself to be very real and for once in my life, there is no stress associated with my “job”. It feels weird even calling what I do now a “job” because it just doesn’t feel like work. It just doesn’t.
I don’t sell essential oils. I share and educate others.
I don’t have essential oil parties. I teach essential oil classes.
This is not my hobby. This is my business.
I’m busy building a pipeline for my family so that someday, the mental shift will have come full circle — and we can pack up and vacation for three weeks if we feel like it. And we won’t have any debt left to pay. And we won’t feel like prisoners of time to the demands of the institutionalized world we feel so vacuumed into today.
I have a personal goal to lead a team of 1,000 people to take charge of their own health and wellness. I will achieve this goal by teaching anyone I can about the endless benefits these gifts of the Earth offer.
Who do you know that can help me reach this goal?…
Since this journey began, I’ve noticed things. I’ve felt shifts within my being that have moved me to tears, brought me to my knees and made me laugh until I’ve ached. Some of the things I have noticed about my daughters and my husband and myself are things that never caught my attention before — it wasn’t there to give. I was here, but I wasn’t here. I saw them, but I didn’t see. Being home for the last two months has slowed me down. The stirring has stopped just enough that I am able to notice things that were always there before, just not deserving of my time in my “busy life”. I’ve found a way to stay still and calm (for the most part) and present.
I’ve noticed a tender, undenying compassion in Sadler that led her to cry — actually sob outloud — during a Disney movie. The movie was Brave, and it was the scene where Merida is reunited with her mother. I came into the room to check on her when I heard her sobbing. When I saw her sitting there on her beanbag looking up, my heart immediately swelled. Her eyes connected with mine and she smiled just a little as tears slid over her little cheeks and onto the floor. I held her head on my chest and kissed her forehead and I cried, too. I knew at that moment that she had compassion and it brought joy to my heart. Partly because I realized that my girl had a gift, and partly because I actually watched it happen.
I’ve learned that Sadler likes to take her tiny toys apart, only so she can see how they were made and challenge herself to put them back together. I’ve watched her develop patience with herself and her sister and the dog. She has become more aware of what she has to do to keep her stuff “safe” from their impromptu takings.
I’ve learned that Everly is more observant than we realized and she mimics her sister’s every move. There isn’t a soul she has encountered that doesn’t earn her whole smile, as she truly does draw in everyone she meets. Her energy is strong and she is going to need much protection as she grows up innocently.
I’ve noticed an ebb and flow in my marriage that brings both peace and calamity, all in sometimes what seems to be the same wave. I’ve learned that silence wins arguments and that being louder doesn’t make you right. Marriage is a team effort and both teammates have to be willing to give 100% all of the time, not 50% each most of the time.
I’ve discovered that cooking dinner early in the afternoon so that it’s ready when Reid gets home from work makes a big difference in our evening. We have time for walks in the neighborhood and playing in the backyard and I’ve learned that we need these moments in our life. It’s the little things that reset us to what’s important in the middle of it all.
I’ve learned that cleaning my house is easier to do in small doses, rather than try to tackle all at once. Monday and Friday are laundry days. I fill in Tuesday thru Thursday with something different each day: floors, bathrooms, dusting, windows, etc.. It has made for an easier approach for sure and I feel less overwhelmed with trying to do it all every day.
I’ve remained determined to show respect to my husband continually, because I’ve accepted that he needs my reminder of this all of the time. I’ve discovered that love and respect reciprocate one another in very natural ways if you just let them.
I’ve taken time each morning to devote my heart and my thoughts to God. I was given a daily devotional book in January for my birthday (by a person in my life I hold very dear to my heart). I started reading it right away and quickly caught up to the day the book was given to me and I haven’t missed a day since. I find relevance in the author’s daily thoughts to my own journey and am receptive to the message the scripture provides. Sometimes this may only be a two-minute window that I have to share with God as I read, but I make sure to make time for those two minutes. I just don’t feel that my day is the same without it. It sets the tone for my heart for the remainder of the day and reminds me where my I should place my focus.
I’ve launched a business! Who knew that something that has literally been right under my nose for two years would be a vessel for financial freedom, a way to share my unwavering passion for natural solutions, and a way to use the skills I developed and sharpened while in my decade-long property management career?! I certainly didn’t, but here is what happened: I was standing in the laundry room in early January, and my heart was heavy. How can I make money from home so that I can help contribute to our family and lifestyle? I had created profiles on UpWork to dive into freelance consulting opportunities or entry level writing gigs. I had bagged up everything I could find to sell on MICIT or at a yard sale for quick cash. But as I was standing there at this very moment in the laundry room, I remember, it was as if the Lord said, “Look to your left…” and there it was. Etched into the wooden box that contained my arsenal of essential oils, our go-to for when we feel under the weather and cleaning products and cooking and emotional health and first aid…the words were there. And I literally laughed out loud! doTERRA. It was my answer. And God has already shown that it was a smart realization, yet one I could have never realized sooner than now. This was my time. I’ve found my place and I’ve only just begun. I’ve helped family and friends get essential oils into their homes. I have had the time to spend teaching others how to use essential oils and have shared oils with strangers. My heart has remained full along the way, which is how I know I’m exactly where I need to be. Excited for what is to come just isn’t a good enough way to describe it. I am euphoric.
As Spring is upon us and the Dogwoods are blooming and we all find ourselves feeling a little more alive, I am thankful for all that the last couple of months have provided me. I never dreamed of a life where I could blog in the afternoon on a Tuesday while my baby girl naps, all the windows open in my house as the afternoon breeze reminds me to be still. I am expanding in abundance and love and success each day as I inspire others around me to do the same. I choose joy.
It was Friday the 13th in January of this year. I had just returned from a four-day business trip that was full of energy and life and motivation. It was actually a leadership conference, and considering I had just joined the company a few months prior in November, I was eager to get to know my co-workers and fellow industry folk from around the country. So the trip was something to look forward to, yet I dreaded getting on the plane. I felt guilty for being excited about having alone time/being away from my kids and husband. I felt sad for leaving them. I was looking forward to making new connections with people within my company that shared in my daily struggles (often) and successes (not as often unfortunately). While I was there, I asked strategic questions to find out more about the work/life balance others had and what they loved about coming to work each day. I noticed a pattern: the people in my company were amazing. They are hard-working and dedicated and tenacious and driven and inspiring. And I met a lot of incredible people, some of whom made flattering comments about my potential and what I could bring to the property and organization, just based off having watched me work for a few short weeks..it was very nice to hear to say the least and I left feeling appreciated.
However, I woke up that Friday morning filled with one of the worst feelings I’ve felt in my 35 years. I physically ached, my stomach hurt, I was puking. I dreaded going to work. I managed to get myself and the girls ready and get out of the house. As I backed my car out of the driveway my eyes welled up with tears. When I got to Sadler’s daycare I remember feeling angry. I barely spoke to anyone, signed her in at the front desk and got back in my car. As I drove to Everly’s daycare I started to feel increasingly worse and dreaded even walking into a familiar place such as her school in a few short minutes. I got out of my car, saw a fellow mommy/dear friend and my heart swelled in anticipation of a simple hug. I cried on her shoulder and my crying suddenly turned to sobbing. I could tell she was afraid of what was happening and not quite sure of what to say. My explanations were frantic; broken sentences and heavy breathing seemed to last forever. I took Everly into her classroom and looked at one of the teachers, “I hate my job”, the tears streamed down my face. My body physically ached as I hugged the daycare workers and my sweet friend, kissed Everly goodbye and drove home. I crawled into bed and cried harder than ever before. With the force of a Mack truck barreling down a midnight highway, I became overwhelmed with an urge I had felt before. An urge that only six months prior had swept me off my feet; an urge that led Reid and I to a place of unfamiliarity, but we seemed to find peace with things. We accepted that I wasn’t happy in my career and we agreed that I could and should hang my property management hat on the hook for the time being. I was being called to stay at home with my children, and felt in my heart that a work-from-home situation was more conducive to the life I wanted to live. However, an opportunity with another company presented itself and things began to appear as if perhaps there was a lifeline to the happiness within my career as a manager. I was excited about my new boss, loved the people-centric culture that my new company had to offer and even saw a future for myself within their executive leadership team. But on this Friday the 13th none of that seemed to matter. I found myself feeling that very same feeling that had knocked me over six months before. I picked up my phone and without fear of judgment I vulnerably texted my boss to tell her I wouldn’t be in the office, that I was having a rough time; I openly shared with her my current state of darkness and despair. I had nothing to lose and knew everything was actually only to be gained from that point forward.
The next few days were not much better physically, while mentally I felt a great sense relief. I managed to push through the weekend and as luck would have it, my birthday was the following Monday. An outpouring of love from friends and family on my “halfway to 70” birthday made the healing process that much sweeter and definitely much easier. I knew what I had to do, and the very next day I resigned from my position. My boss was devastated and tried to talk me out of it. Higher ups within the company called to try and talk me out of it. But they wholeheartedly respected my decision and I left no bridges burned in my departure.
I don’t have a solid plan, and I can honestly say the whole gamut of emotion has played part in my world lately. There’s been fear but hope, sadness but joy, uncertainty but clarity… But I have faith in God, and I firmly know that where I was wasn’t where I needed to be. Money can be made in plenty of ways and property managers are a dime a dozen. While I may have been successful in my career and am grateful for all that it provided for both me personally and for my family monetarily, life is far too precious and certainly not long enough to do anything that steals your joy.
Thanks to two very important ladies in my life, I know these two things to be true:
Ability and desire are not the same thing.
You can’t give from an empty vessel.
Life started for us this week, I just know it.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. “