@santa: i shall find one of these babies kicking around in my sock tonight. xoxo
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
x It's the little things x
season of love, peace and joy all around. it's not the presents but the presence of grace that enriches our hearts. because of this amazing fuel, my undeserving self cannot help but give thanks. let's keep on shining brighter despite how dark it may be. and, be kind to one another.
blessed festive season everyone! xoxo
x Live it till it's gone x
"They say life is a battlefield.
I say bring it on.
If you wanna know how I feel?
Live it till it's gone."
Usher
x Walking on Sonshine x
walking on earth like it is in heaven... am tired of hearing so much grace, hope and love... the miraculous needs to be experienced... the heart is ready...
x Nostalgia (NY) x
feeling nostalgic... magnolia i shall soon be tempted by your sweet nothings... and enjoying every bite of you in the snow. #whitechristmas2014
x Heavenly Providence x
"There is nothing that you need between here and heaven which is not provided in Jesus Christ."
Charles Spurgeon
|| "Care for others the best present of all" - Brian Houston ||
WHILE Christmas means different things to different people, it is universally recognised as the celebration of the birth of Jesus.
A Jewish boy, Jesus wasn't born in a palace among kings or in a temple among priests. He was conceived out of wedlock, in the midst of tumultuous times and in lowly circumstances. He didn't come just for the privileged,the elite, the religious or the powerful … he came for everyone.
Everyone.
It's a powerful word.
In a world where status, background, sexuality, political persuasion, or what side of the tracks you are from can cause so much conflict and strife, Jesus came with a very simple message.
One of "peace on earth and goodwill to all". God excludes no one from his love.
That can be difficult for us to understand within a culture driven by prejudice, personal ambition and selfishness. We live in a society that makes it easy to forget about others.
What do you see around you as you prepare for Christmas Day? Moment by moment, your eyes will glance over buildings, cars, houses, lights, storefronts, streets, corners, the hustle and bustle of the crowds.
I think God sees it all from a different perspective.
When God looks at a city or a town, he sees the people in the buildings, the people driving their cars, the people in their houses, the people shopping and commuting from place to place, the individual in the crowd.
God sees people. God sees you. You are important to him.
Even during biblical times, some religious leaders tried to make God exclusive. Many were shocked that God would offer salvation to those who didn't have the same religious and cultural beliefs as them; yet God made it clear that his amazing love was offered to every person, irrespective of heritage or lifestyle.
Jesus himself was criticised by the "religious" people of the day for associating with those who lived their lives contrary to what he taught. He shared meals with prostitutes and tax collectors (who at the time exploited others). He lived a message of acceptance.
What a great example of inclusiveness. The same Jesus we celebrate this Christmas was teaching us not to judge others, but to love others.
Today, everyone is still included in God's plan.
Some may not feel as though they are a part of any plan. They may feel abandoned and dread the approach of Christmas because it highlights what they don't have and cannot do.
The message of not only Christmas but of Christianity is one of rescue and hope in the midst of despair and hopelessness. God sees the desperation in the eyes of the single mother who just lost her job and can't pay her rent, let alone provide gifts for her children. He sees the vulnerable child afraid to go home and the farmers in rural Australia who are struggling to feed their cattle. His heart is close to the poor, the sick and the defenceless.
Regardless of our differences, of what you believe about Jesus, it is a human responsibility to care for one another; to love and extend acceptance.
This Christmas season, take a moment to consider others. When we extend the hand of love, support and acceptance to others - as far as God is concerned - it is the greatest gift we could possibly give.
|| #52days of Thanksgiving & Praise: Day 42 ||
#simplythankfulfor
soulful connection with m with our silly ramblings in between, catching b before the munkin knocks out (i melt the moment her voice reaches my ears), and long night walks with my partner in crime -- you are my peanut to my butter. and yes, it ain't over yet.
ps. blessed christmas eve xxx
Monday, December 23, 2013
|| #52days of Thanksgiving & Praise: Day 41 ||
#simplythankfulfor
a heart that is finally restful and free. and even for those moments where it does start to wonder, His grace reminds me that He never disappoints.
|| #52days of Thanksgiving & Praise: Day 40 ||
#simplythankfulfor
rest for my soul through the simplicity of warm company and food.
|| #52days of Thanksgiving & Praise: Day 39 ||
#simplythankfulfor
being overwhelmed with joy that is beyond understanding, and restored quality time with those closest.
Friday, December 20, 2013
|| Love much? ||
x Charles Spurgeon x
|| Closed for Protection ||
and one day you will thank your closed doors for redirecting you to greater ones.
|| Keep Going... Pt. 13 ||
x Joel Osteen x
|| We are the free... ||
a world and life of freedom is destined for every living soul. and, it starts with you.
|| #52days of Thanksgiving & Praise: Day 38 ||
#simplythankfulfor
graced filled moments with the ones you hold dearest. that is something i am beyond thankful for. this is love, this... is love.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
|| New comfort, vision & greatness... ||
two thousand and thirteen has definitely been quite a lightening fast year stacked with experiences of all sorts...
not all pretty ones of course, but have learnt a great deal of life and heart lessons from both the joyful and rather painful moments...
and with slowly venturing out of the usual comfort zone, have realized what i feared most was something that barely existed...
to all closed doors i desired open, including unexpected seasons ending -- thank you for being the catalyst, creating a new drive and motivation to greater desires soon becoming... i have not found a dream, but a vision.
|| #52days of Thanksgiving & Praise: Day 37 ||
#simplythankfulfor
support, grace and rest through it all. this is life and this is living.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
|| "In Defense Of Being Nice" - Ashley Curtis ||
The world is made of all kinds of people with all kinds of personality quirks that may cause friction with others. Some people say off-color things or swear in inappropriate company. Others might be abrasively honest and some might have an interesting natural “fragrance” that makes bystanders feel uncomfortable.
Of all of the things that could give someone the wrong impression or instantly make him or her look past what you really have to offer as a person, I’ve come to find that one of my biggest defects isn’t exactly what you’d instantly classify as a flaw. But boy, does it cause some me some heartache.
In everyday life, I find my biggest obstacle to be that I’m nice.
I love people, I love being kind to people and I always try to see the best in those around me. I am not interested in being judgmental nor am I interested in the popular maneuver of belittling others to make myself feel awesome.
I know what you might be thinking: “What? Shenanigans!” you say. “What kind of person doesn’t like a nice person?”
Well, that’s because you are a normal, decent human. It’s lovely to meet you.
Unfortunately, all of our fellow humans are not necessarily as level headed as you and I. Fortunately, and I’ve come to the conclusion that if you have a problem with my niceness, it’s your own damn problem. And I will no longer make it mine.
My niceness does not make me dumb. It does not make me naïve, it does not make me simple-minded and it certainly does not make me your doormat. It is not a cry for acceptance and, above all, it is certainly not a sign of weakness. It is the best way to live one’s life and it is the one thing about myself that I will absolutely never change. And I suggest the rest of you nice folks resolve to do the same.
Why, you ask (or even if you didn’t)? Because the world needs you.
The world needs you more than it needs politicians who pretend to be useful or smarmy types who are at heart quite superficial and interchangeable. It needs you more than it needs sports heroes to idolize or Kardashians to serve as distractions. You, nice friend, are our only hope.
The optimistic, the happy, the hopeful and the helpful are the soul of this dear planet and all too often that soul takes a beating from those who are less characteristically sound.
And I think enough is enough.
The general assholes of the world will just have to deal with the fact that I will smile at them and ask them about their day when we meet. Grumpy strangers I encounter will have to excuse the fact that I may speak to you fondly like I’ve know them since birth. The slick, more pretentious residents of my city will just have to cope with that fact that the logo on their keychain, the label on their oppressive-for-such-a-warm-climate jacket and the accompanying attitude of superiority will not sway my mood or make feel like I’m less worthwhile.
My optimism is not an excuse for you to pigeonhole me as unintelligent and my charity is not your cue to take me for all I’m worth. The same strong sense of self that allows me to be so cheery is the same strong sense that allows me to let you know in the most succinct fashion when you decide you’ll test my constitution.
So carry on, my fellow golden-hearted friends. Just know it’s completely ok to unleash your inner enforcer when the time comes, as long as you don’t let it consume you and you return to your normal, world-changing self. Because once the wicked change your heart, they win. And that, my friends, just isn’t an option.
|| "How We Let People Go" - Chelsea Fagan ||
There is a specific feeling which exists only when you run into someone about whom you had long forgotten. It’s probably most palpable when it’s an ex, but it can happen with friends who were once particularly close. It is comparable to a scab that seems to have been on your skin forever — a scrape which was once quite painful but has been so long in the healing process that you no longer notice its presence when you wash over it in the shower. You peel it off almost out of boredom and suddenly there is a drop or two of blood, something that vaguely resembles the wound it once was, now too distant to really cause any discomfort. These people are wounds which have healed over, which have never quite turned into scars but which have become just another part of your lived-in body.
Letting someone go — when it is a necessary act of self-preservation, something that has to come if you expect to move forward in life — is regarded as a kind of victory. You have successfully overcome an emotional trauma that once surrounded you like a kind of fog which prevented you from ever seeing the sun. People will tell you, always with the best intentions, that one day you are going to wake up and realize that you are okay, and your life is not immediately over because they are no longer a part of it. And this is true, though it’s not the net positive that we are so quick to label it as. Because it’s not as though you simply wake up one day and proclaim yourself fine, suddenly hearing birds chirp and children laugh after months of only your own oppressive silence. You simply start to forget, feeling the acute pain of the loss less and less as each day goes on. There will come a day when you don’t care, but you won’t notice it, because you will have other things to think about.
But in order to let that pain go, in order to remove this person from the place of power they have occupied for so long, you must let everything go. Perhaps in a very distant future, you will be able to pick and choose the memories you want to keep, but for a very long time, one memory will always bleed into another. You cannot simply think about the time the two of you sat on the beach for an entire night, talking about your childhood, drinking the second-least-expensive wine you could find in the store. Because when you allow yourself to think about that, it will remind you of them as a whole, and will lead into all of the terrible things that happened after that night — not the least of which being their eventual departure. They exist within us as whole people, stories with beginnings and endings, and in order to let go of them we cannot choose the things we want to isolate for nostalgia.
We have to stop caring what they would think if they saw us, stop worrying about running into them in the store, stop obsessing over the things we could have done differently to make them stay. And that means letting go of everything they meant to us, proving to ourselves that life can be just as good, just as beautiful, without them in it. When you realize, long after the fact, that you no longer care about someone — that what they are doing in life has no bearing on you, and vice versa — it feels very much like a small death. Who they were with you no longer exists, and you cannot even preserve it in your memory, for the sake of your own mental health.
I recently ran into someone I used to know very well. I hadn’t seen him in close to two years, and I barely recognized him when I crossed him on the sidewalk. I had forgotten that it was his neighborhood, had forgotten that we used to eat there, forgotten it all. And he looked different, different enough to be slightly unsettling. We exchanged words, but as people who had barely ever known each other. It was a spoken confirmation that things had indeed changed — that we had let one another go, out of necessity — and that the parts of ourselves we needed to erase to move on were just going to have to be forgotten. Of course, you never really forget anyone, but you certainly release them. You stop allowing their history to have any meaning for you today. You let them change their haircut, let them move, let them fall in love again. And when you see this person you have let go, you realize that there is no reason to be sad. The person you knew exists somewhere, but you are separated by too much time to reach them again.
We told each other we should get coffee sometime, but didn’t exchange our new numbers. We knew we weren’t going to see each other again.
|| "Moving Without Mom" - Today.com ||
Ben Nunery and his young daughter Olivia have published a gripping and beautiful series of images in which they bid farewell to their home and to their wife and mother Ali, who died of cancer in 2011 at 31 years of age (R.I.P.).
Ben and Ali were married in 2009. Because they had just purchased their new home, they decided to take their wedding photos in the home that was to be their future. After Ali passed just 2 ½ years later, however, Ben and Olivia had to move into a new home together. To say goodbye, Ali’s sister Melanie Tracy Pace joined them for one more photoshoot in the home where Ben and Ali had their wedding day photos and where they had lived together. The resulting images, some of which even shadow the original wedding-day photos, are a touching and beautiful farewell to Ali and to their old home.
When he wrote about the experience, Ben said, “Many people have asked me how I felt while doing that photo session. What I want them to know is that this isn’t a story about grief and loss and hurt. Yes, I’ve gone through those emotions and still do but that’s not what I want people to see in these photos. This is a story about love.”
Ben Nunery and his young daughter Olivia recreated these special photos from Ben and Ali’s wedding day to say goodbye to Ali, who passed away from cancer, and to remember the good times
On the left, a photo of Ben and Ali taken by Ali’s sister Melanie in 2009. On the right, Ben and his daughter Olivia standing together in the same doorway in December 2013
Hopefully, Melanie’s photos will help Olivia remember her mother and the home where she began her life
As they went through the house, Olivia stopped to play with a curling iron that had belonged to her mother. A similar photo of her mom Ali getting ready with a curling iron on her wedding day is on the left
On the left, Ben stands in their empty house in 2009 as his wife Ali comes down the stairs. On the right, he and daughter Olivia play on the same stairs in 2013
“This isn’t a story about grief and loss and hurt. Yes, I’ve gone through those emotions and still do but that’s not what I want people to see in these photos. This is a story about love,” wrote Ben
“The memories of Ali don’t live in that house,” Ben wrote of his late wife. “They live with us, in our hearts”
“I wanted to be able to show Olivia the place where her mother and I started our lives together and dreamed of raising children,” wrote Ben
On the left we see Ben and Ali on their wedding day in 2009. On the right - Ben and his daughter Olivia in 2013
Melanie said she regularly receives signs from her late sister, and that feathers often fall out of nowhere. Olivia found this white feather during the photoshoot, which reminded Melanie of her sister, Ali
Ben and Olivia are moving to a home where Olivia will have more room to play and grow
Ben learned how to play his and Ali’s wedding song, Stevie Wonder’s “I Believe (When I Fall In Love With You It Will Be Forever),” on the ukulele. Now he plays for his daughter
“Our lives will continue down a curvy and uncertain path, but Olivia and I will be able to look at these photos and know that for a short time there was a place where I was the luckiest man in the world, even if just for a little while,” wrote Ben
Ben and Ali were married in 2009. Because they had just purchased their new home, they decided to take their wedding photos in the home that was to be their future. After Ali passed just 2 ½ years later, however, Ben and Olivia had to move into a new home together. To say goodbye, Ali’s sister Melanie Tracy Pace joined them for one more photoshoot in the home where Ben and Ali had their wedding day photos and where they had lived together. The resulting images, some of which even shadow the original wedding-day photos, are a touching and beautiful farewell to Ali and to their old home.
When he wrote about the experience, Ben said, “Many people have asked me how I felt while doing that photo session. What I want them to know is that this isn’t a story about grief and loss and hurt. Yes, I’ve gone through those emotions and still do but that’s not what I want people to see in these photos. This is a story about love.”
Ben Nunery and his young daughter Olivia recreated these special photos from Ben and Ali’s wedding day to say goodbye to Ali, who passed away from cancer, and to remember the good times
On the left, a photo of Ben and Ali taken by Ali’s sister Melanie in 2009. On the right, Ben and his daughter Olivia standing together in the same doorway in December 2013
Hopefully, Melanie’s photos will help Olivia remember her mother and the home where she began her life
As they went through the house, Olivia stopped to play with a curling iron that had belonged to her mother. A similar photo of her mom Ali getting ready with a curling iron on her wedding day is on the left
On the left, Ben stands in their empty house in 2009 as his wife Ali comes down the stairs. On the right, he and daughter Olivia play on the same stairs in 2013
“This isn’t a story about grief and loss and hurt. Yes, I’ve gone through those emotions and still do but that’s not what I want people to see in these photos. This is a story about love,” wrote Ben
“The memories of Ali don’t live in that house,” Ben wrote of his late wife. “They live with us, in our hearts”
“I wanted to be able to show Olivia the place where her mother and I started our lives together and dreamed of raising children,” wrote Ben
On the left we see Ben and Ali on their wedding day in 2009. On the right - Ben and his daughter Olivia in 2013
Ben and Olivia with the glass angel she calls “Mommy”
Melanie said she regularly receives signs from her late sister, and that feathers often fall out of nowhere. Olivia found this white feather during the photoshoot, which reminded Melanie of her sister, Ali
Ben and Olivia are moving to a home where Olivia will have more room to play and grow
Ben learned how to play his and Ali’s wedding song, Stevie Wonder’s “I Believe (When I Fall In Love With You It Will Be Forever),” on the ukulele. Now he plays for his daughter
“Our lives will continue down a curvy and uncertain path, but Olivia and I will be able to look at these photos and know that for a short time there was a place where I was the luckiest man in the world, even if just for a little while,” wrote Ben
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