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Running and writing.  Two things I haven’t done in awhile.  Two things that tend to elicit emotions and change within me. Here I am, doing both after a long period of resisting both.  Today, on a long-awaited NO PLANS Saturday, I watched the Baylor basketball game and generally lounged. See, I LOVE the idea of having nothing happening, but once that day comes around, I typically self-destruct. The idea of lazing about is so appealing, but actually kind of makes me feel like crap. Upon scrolling through old photos, I got nostalgic about the Disney Princess Half Marathon, which was this weekend in 2018. I posted an old picture of it on my story. And then deleted. And then dug out those same running shoes and green socks (because I was Tinkerbell, of course), put on my headphones, and broke out the old Couch to 5K training app. Goodness knows how many times I have started that program over the past 10 years. I started my little “run” - if you can call altern...
Recent posts

A Case for Listening

The last few weeks have been hard and ugly, have they not?  I have had to take deep breaths as I watch yet another brave sister say (or whisper) ‘me too.’ The tally is off the charts at this point. I watch so many faces flicker across my phone, even in joyous moments, and remember the time she was, you were, made to feel unsafe and unworthy. T hank you all for your courage.  I’ve watched the legitimacy of people and places I love be disparaged and debated.  Even celebrating Martin Luther King Jr. yesterday brought tension. Words and actions and ideals of so many appeared incongruent and infuriating. Maybe that's the point though... holidays suggest the word "celebrate," but is that really what we're doing here on the third Monday of ever January? More like mourning. Calling to mind the history that isn't so irrelevant.  I have read so many words undermining voices and stories. So many bruised hearts, and bodies for that matter, are questioned ra...

A Seat at the Table

As a child I took on a superstition I once heard my big sister state. That if I breathed while passing by a cemetery, I would somehow take on the heart/lungs/spirit/I don't remember what exactly of a dead old man. So for years I held my breath. Through stop lights and long stretches. It probably contributed to my swimming career, now that I think about it.  I've recently started going for walks past a cemetery, and breathing is simply a necessity it turns out. Today I even slowed to a stop, and breathed it in. I stood and held on the the wrought iron fence, and then I passed through the open gates.  I saw a lot of names and dates.  Dates that were too close together... one family in particular that lost a baby every couple of years, and each old fashioned name had "Little" in front of it... Little Bea, Little Lois, and a handful of other Littles, all under two years old. There were stones with two names, but only three da...

all things new

This started as a tiny Instagram post. I was going to tell you about what a weirdo I am that I'm super excited to be drinking this pretty bottle of wine, painting this old corkboard, and making extravagant plans to cook brussels sprouts on a Friday night. But God gave me a different story to tell. And Instagram told me my caption was too long. And then someone brought home pizza and the brussels sprouts plan flew out the window too.  Monday was a sleepy day, because Nashville was a whir and I got home at 12:30 am. That night I went for dinner (it was free because thanks Aunt and Uncle for doing Crossfit) and was ready for about a 7:30 bedtime. But my car didn't want to start. Didn't even want to sputter to start. It was pulled in to a parking spot and even jumping it was looking hard. Aunt Dana and I were jumping ahead to what car repair would look like for my 45 minute commute the next day... trading cars? taking time off? Thankfully, when ...

Friday Five: Five Quotes

I'm going to let my crazy show a little.  My sister and I are headed to Nashville tonight.  Why you ask? We're obsessed with a singer named Ben Rector. I could try to say it in a more dignified way, but it's the truth and I have accepted it. I've seen him in concert several times, approximately every time he came to Waco while I was at Baylor, and once in grad school. But Alizah never has, and at the time the tour dates were released we realized that he would be in Dallas the weekend of Baylor Homecoming. So we looked into other cities. And College Station, or even Tulsa, would've been closer. But Nashville... We both are a little starry-eyed about this city we've never visited. So with more notice than this summer's Hawaii trip, but in the same spirit of spontaneity, we booked flights. We'll be there less than 48 hours, but I'm excited for adventures with my sweet (and hilarious) sis.  In the spirit of our weekend getaway,for this week's Friday ...

words and things

This weekend I had the wonderful opportunity to go the the final year of the Women of Faith conference.  The tour is entitled "Loved," but for me three things stuck out: beautifully strung together words (you should've seen me scramble to write down the perfectly constructed prose verbatim), anxiety, and dreams. To me, those things became the weekend's theme.  I of course got swept into stories and inspiration. I laughed a lot. I sang praises in a room of 20,000, united in lifting our voices the day after people were shot for professing the same faith to which we cling. I somehow walked away not sponsoring a child through  World Vision , despite the tear-inducing REAL stories. I will soon, surely.  But I really clung to those three aforementioned things, because they're what's relevant for me.  Here's the thing: I haven't ever felt like I have a "thing."  You know, like a hobby. Passion. Obsession. Ridiculous natural inclination or t...