What to Expect in 2014

New Year’s was pretty low key for us. I spent the evening at a friend’s party while the hubby worked. Then, I headed home at 1030 to watch the New Year in with him. We discussed goals and desires for the New Year. I don’t like to call them resolutions. That sounds like a death sentence. Who actually accomplishes their resolutions? Instead I’ll just say that we talked over what we’d like to see happen in our lives in 2014.

While we talked about a lot of things from getting healthier and losing weight to reading more books to achieving a couple of very important financial goals to growing spiritually, I’d like to share some of the goals that directly effect this blog.


I want to see this blog grow in 2014. That will mean a lot of changes and a lot of sitting back and evaluating what works and doesn’t work. Things to look for include a new design and domain, more frequent posts, and more DIY posts. I’d especially like to journal about my pattern drafting and sewing adventures. It takes time and discipline to pull together a project enough to blog about and write a tutorial for it, but I’d like to do more of that in the time to come.


I’m actively seeking simplicity in our chaotic lives this year. To me, simplicity means paring down and getting back to basics, whether that’s owning less stuff or (paradoxically) doing things the hard way sometimes. I’d like to blog more about this journey.


The hubby and I are both finding ourselves in a bit of health rut. Tiredness and aches and pains are an everyday thing. We’re seeking solutions. As we eat better and get back to basics, I may write a bit about our search. Expect yummy but healthier recipes.

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Number 1 Resolution? More Cuddles!

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In the theme of growth for this blog, I’d love some feedback. I want to write posts that help or delight others. What would you like to see more of here?


An Anniversary Post

Yesterday, we celebrated our 2 year wedding anniversary. The day before, on her 12 year wedding anniversary, a friend learned her husband is dying from cancer. As I mourn and pray for this friend, I also pause to reflect.

We’re taught to treasure the moments in life. This glib statement often seems accompanied by the idea that the moments to treasure are the happy ones, the sunshine-filled, laughing days. But are those the only beautiful moments?0814

For two years, I have lived with, fought with, loved, angered, and stood alongside a very real, very human, and very lovable man. We’ve had our wonderful moments and our awful moments. So, should I treasure only the wonderful moments?┬áIt’s a hard question. I hate it when we fight and struggle, but those fights and struggles are part and parcel of the life we’re building together. The friction, either from the storms of life or from each other, grows us and our marriage.

As I watch this friend struggle through watching her husband die, I have no glib statements. How can you treasure these moments, good or bad, knowing all the moments you dreamed of will soon end? At the same time, I’m awed by her. Through the pain and tears, she looks for God’s little miracles and counts it a blessing to hold her husband’s hand.

Maybe this seems like a gloomy anniversary post. I’m not sure. But I’m reminded that every kiss could be our last, every fight could be the final one, and all our humans plans could come crumbling down at the feet of a good, sovereign God. I’m reminded to thank God for the time, good and seemingly bad, that I’ve had with my husband and for the time we have left, whether it’s a lifetime or another minute.

I’m thankful I get to fight with and for this man. Every breath we share is from God, and I thank Him for every breath He gives.

I’m thankful, too, for my friend who right now models true for-better-or-for-worse-love. God doesn’t tell us never to sorrow; He just reminds us that we sorrow with hope. Thank you, friend, for your transparent example of sorrow and hope.

Worthless Pieces of Broken Glass

Tuesday, we took a trip to a nearby island. As the hubby scoured the beach sand for sea glass, he noticed a couple guys nearby wielding metal detectors. He laughed, asking, “What does it say about me that I don’t bring a metal detector to the beach? Instead, I spend the day looking for worthless pieces of glass.”


How often do we live a metal detector way of life? We look for the big adventures and forget about the little not-so-insignificant moments. We’re so focused on hunting treasure that we don’t notice the view of the harbor as we come into shore, the seaweed on the rocks, clouds over the bay, a rope covered ledge, the pile of deserted lobster traps, or the hollow through the trees.



Even if we do noticed the significant nothings, in our visual-centric age, we often become so focused on seeing them through our camera lens, that we forget to step out and truly see.




I obviously have nothing against taking pictures (this post is full of them), but I wonder how often we see those pictures as the memories themselves and forget the moments they were taken in. Do we remember the breeze as we came into shore? The feel of seaweed underfoot? Do we remember how we felt or what we thought? Do we use photos as an aid for remembering or as a replacement?


Sometimes I think we would be less focused on searching high and wide for adventures and more content with the beauty surrounding us if we learned to treat those memories like sea glass. Carefully collected and displayed in a glass jar. Little, worthless pieces of broken glass able to brighten even the drabbest day.