Thursday, October 13, 2016

The one where she called out the good

At 2pm yesterday, I had an unexpected surprise. A dear friend of mine from Texas let me know her schedule had shifted a little and she was in DC, free for the evening, and wanted to see if I was free.

Was. I. Ever.

I made a quick reservation at Founding Farmers (always proof God loves you when you get a last minute reservation at this place) and finished up my work day.

I met Rachel at the restaurant, got the best Texas-sized hug, and sat down at our table. I looked across at her and said "We are talking about ALL THE THINGS. So much to catch up on. Are you ready for this?"

Five years prior- almost to the very day- Rachel had come to my apartment in Texas, coffee in hand at 9pm, and helped me pack up before I left the next day for my new job in Florida. Since then, we've talked a few times, we've met up a few times when I've been in Texas, but for the most part- we had a LOT to catch up on.

After dinner, we did a nighttime stroll through the memorials (my favorite thing to do in DC with out of town friends) and I can't even tell you how encouraged I was by this evening.

When I got home, I washed my face, crawled in bed, and felt a couple tears stream down my face. Rachel encouraged me in ways I've been missing for quite some time. She spoke words of life over me; she called out the good in me. She didn't say these things to flatter me; she said them because she believed them to be true.

Who is calling out the good in you? I think we do a good enough job of calling out the bad in ourselves. We need someone to join forces with and call out the good.

Rachel, I'm grateful for you.

Friday, September 30, 2016

The one about a pastor's role

When you grow up as a pastor's kid, the idea of a 'pastor' looks a little different to you.

When you grow up as a pastor's kid in the middle of East Texas, it looks a lot different to you.

Growing up, I attended a church where everyone knew everyone. We knew all the people, knew their families, knew their jobs, knew their lives. When life was hard, we rallied. When life was good, we celebrated. No one was excluded from this circle. There was no one in our congregation that didn't have full access to my family. And I loved that. We were a community of about 150 people. And it was good.

For my first church experience in college, I hoped to find and recreate something similar.  I didn't mind a big church. That only meant I got to know more people. I babysat for pastor's and their kids. I found myself in their homes for family dinners. I easily found my way into the lives of my pastors and their families. But then again, when your dad is a pastor- the pastor's family never feels as though it should be off limits- especially when your home was never off limits. It feels natural and RIGHT to want to be a part of their lives.

When I transitioned out of this college church (of about 800 people), I found myself attending Gateway Church with about 10,000 other people. Everyone thought of it as a big church, but I never did. I never considered that a mega church. I just saw it as an opportunity for more people to know, more to be involved in, and more opportunities to serve.

Within the first 6 months of attending Gateway, I again found myself in the homes of different pastors and their families. Babysitting, watching movies, grabbing coffee, feeling supported. My pastor growing up was my dad, which means I looked to my pastor for more than just a weekend message. I looked to him for advice, counsel, support. I found that at Gateway. Pastor Preston Morrison, Pastor Jan, Pastors Randy and Cheri, Pastor Zach, Pastors Marcus and Lexa, Pastor Lynda....the list could go on. Sure, I was involved in other ministries (worship, small groups, etc) but my pastoral care came from these families. The church now has a weekly attendance of about 30,000 people. And still, there are several of these friends I could call at the drop of a hat and I know they'd be around.

What is your experience with the role of a pastor? Maybe not a senior pastor- but pastors within your church... Are they someone you only see on a weekend? Are they someone you can call or email without getting an automated response? Do they know anything about your life? What do you think a pastor's relationship with members of a congregation should look like?

Just posing some questions.

Friday, June 10, 2016

The one with the closed chapter

Today will close one of the most exciting and rewarding chapters in my life.

Five years ago I came to the Foundation bright-eyed and very green.

I didn’t know much about ‪#‎EdReform‬ but I knew social media. Jaryn saw that as an asset and gave me a chance to make it in the big leagues.

I left my home and all the people I loved in Texas and moved to Tallahassee Florida to take a chance on a social media gig with an education reform organization I didn’t know much about.

The Tallahassee team made me feel welcomed, loved, and appreciated. They didn’t just make sure I knew EdReform, they made sure I had things to do, people to see, and places to visit. Mary Laura took me out one weekend with her daughter to the ‘Tallahassee Zoo’…. Jaryn invited me to watch the World Series (Go Rangers!) with her family, Alexis became my running partner, Erin Price hosted an Oscars party, Clare Crowson helped me find the best diet Dr Pepper close the office. You get the point. The ExcelinEd team invited me into their world.

Cari Miller, Joanna Hassel, and Mary Laura Bragg would sit with me for as long as I needed as I learned the intricacies of our ExcelinEd policies.

2012 was quite the year. First with the RNC and all the crazy that came along with that (oh the stories to be told), the new additions to our team (We gained a DC office that year with John B, Adam P, Dave M, Josh V!), Neil Ruddock, my girl ALLISON, and then….

The summit. That first morning. Summit was about to begin and I received the 5am phone call letting me know my apartment was in flames.

The way they rallied around me in that season will never be forgotten. Whenever I tell the story of the fire, their names will always come up. Joanna breaking the news to me that in fact my apartment WAS considered a total loss, Dave Myslinski feeling uncomfortable with my tears and doing the only thing he knew to do: get the girl a diet dr pepper!, Sarah Powell holding me as I sobbed (and subsequently pressing the button on the walkie talkie I was wearing so that EVERYONE could hear my sobs…cool), Joanna coming back later with a photo showing me that all my journals had been saved from the fire, and how the entire team helped me pull it together so we could pull off the biggest event of the year. (I think there were a lot of drinks to be had that night as well. Erin Price and Nadia kept my glass full.)

The team even pulled together gift cards for me upon my return home so I could get some of the necessities taken care of while I figured out what I’d be doing.

2013 marked the year of DC. After the fire, I opted NOT to sign a lease in the same apartment complex and moved about 14 hours north to the DC office where the Screaming Eagles welcomed me with much gusto. Food truck lunches, the search and move to a new office space, and the addition of Jess Langhaim to the team (memorable NOT just because she brought ME iced coffee on the first day.) DC life became the new normal and we continued to grow in numbers, policies, strategies, and grants. Just shy of my 5 year anniversary, the time has come for me to move on from the #EdReform world.

As I prepare to sign off of our social media channels this afternoon, so many of these memories are flooding back. So many memorable moments.

More than anything, I am grateful. Thanks to the @ExcelinEd for being a part of my life, for taking a chance on me, for helping me grow professionally and personally.

Monday, May 30, 2016

The one about Phase 10

I played Phase 10 with friends this weekend. If you are not familiar with the game, here's a little insight.

It is a card game and there are 10 phases. For every round, each person individually has an opportunity to advance to the next phase. You play until one person reaches phase 10 and conquers it.

While playing, some people might be on phase 1 while others are on advanced phases. There are additional cards to be used… A wild, and a skip card. When using the skip card, the person playing the card can choose who they want to skip. Typically the skip card is used on the person who is on the highest level, or the person who is about to win the round. Other times, it is used out of spite.

While playing this weekend, I used the skip card on a person who was on phase 1, while others were more advanced. It did not make sense to anyone. But once I explained, I think they understood a little more. One person had just been skipped, one person I had previously used the card on earlier, and one person hated the game and I didn't want to skip him and make him hate it anymore. I wanted him to enjoy the game. So I ended up using the skip card on someone who was just trying to advance even one level!

As with most things in my life, I immediately applied that to my personal life. So many of my friends are in phases that are much more advanced than mine. Weddings, babies, promotions, more babies, new homes... All the while, it feels as though I am still on phase 1, and continually being skipped. It doesn't make sense and sometimes we just want God to explain His reasoning!

Imagine playing a game with friends and being skipped every single turn. That game becomes no fun. Often times you want to quit and find a new game altogether. The game is more fun when you are surrounded by people who are in similar phases.

Who are you surrounding yourself with? Are you playing phase 10 with people who are on phase 8 while you're on phase 2?

I am grateful for the weekend I just had. I was surrounded by people who are on the same phase as I am. We can challenge each other and encourage one another in a way that people in other phases can't do.

Thanks for a great weekend, friends. Grateful to play Phase10 with you all.

Sunday, May 22, 2016

The one with the cheer squad

Five years ago I ran my first half marathon in San Diego. My uncle had called me in January of 2012 and told me he was planing to run the full marathon and if I wanted to run the half, he would pay for my airfare out to Cali. That seemed like a pretty sweet deal, although it was a VERY tough decision. I don't make decisions lightly and I don't go back on my word. So if I was going to say yes, there would be no backing out. I really WOULD be running 13.1 miles. California seemed great, but the running part was going to be tricky. I found a training plan that seemed doable, talked myself into it, and said "yes!"

I will never forget that moment, crossing the finish line. Actually, I will never forget each mile of that race. Remembering how I felt, how nervous I was to see if I would actually be able to do it. I had only trained up to 10 miles and that race would be the first time my body had ever gone 13.1 miles.

This weekend, almost to the exact day, I ran my 5th half marathon. With each race, my goals have changed.

1.) San Diego 2012: finish, and finish without walking.
2.) Washington DC 2013: finish, and have fun.
3.) Virginia Beach 2014: bring a friend, finish, and set a new PR.
4.) Philadelphia 2015: Finish strong & new PR.
5.) Brooklyn 2016: Finish.

I had some major knee issues the last few months and quite honestly, I wanted to finish. I was worried I might have to drop out of the race if my knees didn't pull it together and cooperate. I felt like I'd been set back, going back to square one of having a goal to just finish.

For San Diego, I was so focused. I never missed a training run. I may have been a little obsessive about it, but I knew if I was going to make it- I had to do EXACTLY what I was told. I had to follow the directions I was given. Did not swerve to the right or to the left. I trained. If someone suggested an idea that wasn't on the training plan, I said no. I couldn't mess with the plan. (I laugh as I write this remembering how uptight I was. Gosh.)

For Washington, DC, I had just moved to a new city, my apartment had burned down a few months prior and I needed a goal to look forward to. Running in a new city helps you gather your bearings, and when it was suggested, I agreed to run. I walked quite a bit during that race but I finished and enjoyed it! There was SO much less pressure. This time, I knew I could do it. I knew I was physically capable of finishing.

For Virginia Beach, I was first going down to watch and cheer for a friend when plans changed and I decided to run with! I recruited two others to come along as well and we turned it into one big beach weekend party. I had started cross-training in prep for this race and I knew I could beat my time. So I decided to go for it, set the goal, and make it happen.

For Philly, I wanted to finish strong. I trained, I cross-trained, I wanted to finish and not feel like I was going to die after :) I knew the course, I knew the elevations, I knew what parts could be troublesome. But I was going to finish and finish strong.

For Brooklyn, my original goal was to finish, have fun, and enjoy the route. It was going to be a no pressure run. It was going to be a "run because I like running" run. Seven weeks in and it turned into a "oh gosh. This might be my last half marathon" kind of run. My knees were aching. After every run I had to come home, ice them, take meds, and rest. Going up and down stairs at my apartment was painful. I began mentally planning for my final race. I wouldn't stop running altogether, but I would not be running long distances anymore. I had friends praying for my knees. That they would be strong and help me cross the finish line.

Two weeks before the race, I found out I would have a cheering squad on the sidelines. Several friends from DC were coming to NYC for the weekend and changed their plans a bit to make time to come cheer for me. The pressure was on. I HAD to finish. My friends were coming. To cheer for ME! I had to finish the race.

Saturday morning comes and my friend Leticia and I arrive at the start line with every intent of running our own race. That's the beauty of running. You run your own race- at your own pace. We said goodbye and knew we would meet up at the finish.

I had decided to slow things down and listen to my body. I repeated to myself more than a dozen times "you don't have to be a hero. If you need to stop, do it. This is your race. Run your own race." At mile six I felt good. At mile seven my knee buckled. I stopped, massaged it out, and walked a bit. I attempted running again and it felt OK. I kept going. At mile 10. Oooooh at mile ten. The most beautiful site. For the first time in any race I'd ever run, I saw a sign. "GO MINDA." And I saw six beautiful faces of friends who sacrificed their cozy and restful morning to come cheer. There was nothing in it for them. They received no medal at the end. They didn't get the free shirt. They just came to cheer me on. I tear up even typing this out. Guys. Having friends cheer for you is the best. I stopped for a selfie, some high fives, and finished my race. I felt strong, I felt energized, and I felt ready to tackle those final three miles.

I crossed the finish line, got my medal, visited the medical tent for some ice and had them wrap my knee, and went to find Leticia.

Five half marathons complete.

I'm not sure what my next race will be. I will most likely visit a doctor to have my knees checked out. I will keep running. But my next goal is to find someone to cheer for.

Who are you cheering for? In life... Who is cheering you on? Who shows up for the big events? Who are the people that you say "it's a non negotiable- I'm gonna be there."?

Weddings and babies aren't the only times we should be showing up and cheering for people. We are really good at celebrating those things. We like celebrating those so much we even created things called "gender reveal" parties and engagement parties. Those are big things, yes. But there are other big things happening in people's lives.

Go show up and cheer for someone this week. Find a reason to celebrate them. Especially if it means there is nothing in it for you. You will make their day/week/month/year. I promise.

Thursday, May 12, 2016

The one about singleness

Saturday night, our campus pastor asked me if I would be willing to sit on a panel his wife would be hosting. To talk about singleness.

He and his wife are leading a May-term small group on Love, Sex, and Dating. With no offense to them, I really thought there might be 20 or 25 people in attendance. So I agreed. 

Robin sent over a few questions she planned to ask the panelists which gave us good direction to gather our thoughts, put some notes together, and come prepared. Sunday morning I was enjoying a full day of rest... you know the kind. NOTHING on the agenda. No plans. No responsibility. No commitments. The only thing I had to do was to stay in my pj's, drink copious amounts of coffee, and read a book. (Oh wait. You only know these kinds of days if you're single. Forgive me.) 

I was in my oversized chair with my journal, bible, a cup of coffee. (And my cell phone....because, honesty.) I started taking some notes and quickly realized that I have a LOT to share on this subject. I'd never publicly talked about my {FreakingForeverLong} season of singleness. Just with good friends. Only with people who care about me and who have offered to dive into that tender subject with me.

Pages and pages of notes later, I realize I could teach a 6-part sermon series with as much as I'd written down. And I was going to be on a panel. Answering a few questions. And I was relieved. While there might be a lot I could share on the topic, I didn't know if I was quite ready. Singleness is a sensitive subject. I truly believe one should speak about singleness and to singles the same way you would speak to someone dealing with infertility. It's something they want badly- and for whatever reason- can't have. Speak with care, concern, sensitive tone, etc. Infertility isn't a joking matter for a mom desperate for a baby. In the same way- singleness isn't a joking matter to those of us who are single. While we may pass it off jokingly in attempts to deal with it ourselves... the laughs or jokes are a cover. 

As we were setting up the room, we put about 25 chairs out and said "eh, if we need to set up more, we can do that." 

Guys. That was a JOKE. We needed a LOT more chairs. As people kept pouring into the room I needed to pick my jaw up off the ground. This suddenly became no longer a small little panel of a few people I'd be talking about this subject with- but a room full of almost 100 young adults who actually WANTED to come and learn more about how to navigate this subject as a follower of Christ. 

I've said many times before, give me a microphone and I can sing with ease in front of thousands of people. But ask me to speak and I am NO good. I get so nervous. But last night. It was different. There were no nerves. I told my sister "maybe it's because it's an area I'm actually an expert in." HA. But seriously. I can speak on the subject with ease, without fear because I've learned how to be single. And quite honestly, I'm pretty good at it. This in NO way means I don't want to get married {cause i do!} but it's a subject matter I'm well versed in. 

I'm grateful for the opportunity I was given to share a piece of my heart with others who are in the same season, to hopefully encourage someone and remind them that while singleness can indeed feel lonely, they are certainly not alone.

Monday, May 9, 2016

The one post-Greece

I wrote some post-Greece thoughts for my friend's blog. You can check it out on Facebook: P327 or by clicking on the picture below.

Thursday, March 10, 2016


My church, National Community, has a very unique opportunity to return to the Greek/Macedonian border (Idomeni) to serve alongside the A21 Campaign.

Since last year, almost 1 million refugees have passed through this particular border crossing. While they are waiting to cross, there is no food/water available. Many of them stand in line for days with nothing but what they have on their being. The line of people stretches farther than our eyes can see. Right now, over 14,000 people are stuck at this particular border.  

I've been given the opportunity to join a team of 10 people to help pass out supplies and meet the physical needs of those who are waiting to cross. 

We will leave Wednesday April 6th and return Thursday April 14th.

This seemed like an opportunity I couldn't pass on. I normally wouldn't make such a big decision so quickly but my work has graciously allowed me the time off on such short notice. This isn't one of those trips that we say "oh, I can go another time." The problem is now. The need is now. 

Psalm 82 says "Defend the weak and fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked." 

Your prayers would be greatly appreciated. 

A few links with additional information about the location we'll be going to:

Friday, March 4, 2016

The one with the house that didn't exist

In December, my roommate of three years and I knew it was time to move out of our apartment. Rent kept going up and it didn't seem the best option to continue living there anymore.

We began the search and made plans to look for one and two bedroom places, knowing our time as roommates could be coming to a close as well.

We turned in our paperwork at the leasing office and had an official "you gotta be out" day on March 4th. Two months. That didn't seem like much time to find something.

I knew what kind of place I wanted. I also knew that sort of place didn't exist in DC, for the price I needed it to be.

We looked at several two bedroom places with significantly less space than our apartment currently had. One of them was so much of a hole, none of the closets had rods in them to hang clothes on....because they were so narrow a hanger wouldn't even FIT in it. Yeah. We found some holes.

I looked at several one bedrooms. One in particular was on the high end of my budget and didn't have a place for a dining table. And the living room had space for MAYBE my couch and TV. That was it.

After viewing these places, I began to pray. My prayers sounded something like this:

God. Not once have you ever left me without a home. Even after the fire. I'm not worried you'll do that now. When I graduated college, you provided. When my roommates were getting married, you provided the next place. When the next roommate was getting married, you provided a place. When the NEXT roommate got married, you provided a place. I'm not worried about you providing a place. But God. You know my heart and my passion is to make my home as inviting for people as possible. I don't see how I can make some of these places inviting. 

I wrote out a list of the things I wanted in a home. These were not 'must haves' but just the wish list. The "it would be really nice" list. After writing the list, I looked at it and said "God... this place does not exist in DC for the price I can afford. If it DID exist, it would be a miracle. Please prepare my heart to find a really tiny space and not be able to host."

January 30th, I attended a leadership event for National Community Church that was held in Lincoln Theater. I knew I had one month. One month to not only find a place- but to move as well. We sang Matt Redman's song "Never Once" and I bawled my eyes out. Not out of fear, but out of a place of complete confidence knowing God would come through. I didn't know what it would look like, and I didn't anticipate it being what I wanted, but I knew He would come through. He had to.

In February, I had the opportunity to go up to New Hampshire for a long weekend and wondered if I'd made a good decision. I would be home for less than 24 hours before getting on a plane to San Francisco for work. When you need to find a place to live, and make plan to move....Being out of town isn't the best plan.

I got back from New Hampshire late Monday night, February 8th. I went to work on the 9th and pulled up Craigslist and searched for homes to rent "posted today." A few popped up, one in particular that caught my eye. I emailed the guy and he responded back immediately saying he could meet me at the property that night. Knowing I had a 7am flight out the next morning, it was now or never. I got to the property went to check it out. As we walked up the steps, opened the door and stepped inside, my breath caught. I walked into a beautiful space that seemed too good to be true. I saw the living room, dining area, and the kitchen, and tried not to squeal. He showed me the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the washer and dryer, the balcony.....

As we walked back to the kitchen, I said to him "So. This place is amazing. Why the low price? What's the catch?" Immediately I felt the Lord respond to me and say "Minda. You asked for a miracle. Why are you questioning it now?" I teared up and the guy responded "Eh, the owner just feels like it shouldn't cost an arm and a leg to live in the district." Cue more tears. I said to him "This is my home. Please do not show this place to anyone else. This is the place I prayed for."

He smiled and said "I'm usually have a good read on people and I think you're right. I think you'll be the perfect tenant for this place."

That evening we got the paperwork rolling, made arrangements to get deposits sent to him, and then I headed off to San Francisco the next morning. All before my roommate had a chance to see it. She was really brave to let me make that decision on my own, and I'm so grateful.

We put a deposit down on a property that had every.single.thing. on my wish list. Every item. Even the one thing I'd written down and also said "this is dumb, but I'd really like it...even if not now. Someday."

We moved in last weekend thanks to the help of 15....yes, FIFTEEN friends who were so generous with their time and energy. This week has been a bit crazy attempting to get settled, but it's coming together. Already this week, I've hosted two different groups of people: #Framily, and my small group. The place, while still in progress, is the home I envisioned having in DC. Being able to make a home where people can come, be fully vulnerable, and fully themselves. I've found a home.

I am grateful. Overwhelmed, and grateful.
That exposed brick. Gosh. 

View from the kitchen and you can see part of the 21 FEET of counter top space

Sunday, January 31, 2016

The one with the revelation

I had a revelation this weekend that is so elementary I almost feel silly sharing it with you.

I've actually had a couple of those recently. I'll start with the one I REALLY shouldn't share- and then move to the one that I'll share simply in case it might encourage you. 

I was dropping off a few items at the dry cleaner a couple months ago, when I looked around and realized I didn't see any washing machines, etc. The sweater I was leaving behind for them to take care of was one that REALLY could not go in the washing machine. As I walked away, I had the realization... (yes, I'm truly about to admit this on my public blog).... that's why it's a DRY cleaner. Water is not used. Hmmm. 31 years old and just making that connection. Now. There is a solvent used at the cleaners, but I'd recommend for your own sanity you not google that mess. Trust me.  

But seriously. I walked around for probably the next 24 hours baffled at how I could just be having that revelation. I may or may not have muttered to myself several times as well..."a DRY cleaner..."

Now that you realize how slow I am for some revelations, this next one might not sound AS bad. 

2016 has not been the easiest year. And we're only one month in. 

It's not really the month that's been bad- but several things leading up to the month of January have made for an especially hard month. 

There is a lot of uncertainty right now for me. In more than one area of my life. And I honestly have NO clue what my life will look like in March. (one. month. away.) 

There have been many moments in my life where I've been in a similar position that I'm in right now. BIG decisions needing to be made- but having no clue as to what I'll be doing or where I'll be. Reflecting back on those moments from years past, I'm more confident and more aware that never once has He left me on my own. He's never let me walk that road alone. 

So this time around, I've had a confidence and calmness. 

Yesterday, at leadership retreat for National Community Church, Pastor Mark was talking about our theme for this year: So far, So God. 

He referenced a story from Genesis 33 where Jacob is traveling after a crazy family/relationship/life drama situation and on his way, he stops and sets up an altar and calls it "El Elohe Israel" which means 'Mighty is the God of Israel.' Pastor Mark made note that the name Israel isn't referring to a location or to a country. It's him. God had changed Jacob's name to Israel a couple chapters back. (really. it's a great story. you should check it out.)

But in that moment, all I heard was "Mighty is the God of Minda."

Friends, readers, strangers.... when I heard that, all I could do was weep.

The revelation is this: Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus. 

When we trust, it really is sweet. 

When we fear, there is no sweetness. 

There have been times that I've trusted through tears and through nail biting. It was more fear and little trust. 

This time around, the tables have turned and it's more trust and little fear. I can truly look back on the last decade of my life and say "So far, So God." His fingerprints have been all over my life. 

I cried a lot yesterday. Not out of fear. But out of the understanding that it truly is sweet to trust in Jesus. 

Mighty is the God of Minda. 

Thursday, January 7, 2016

The one with a good surprise

I'm a sucker for a good surprise. Always have been, most likely always will be. I love when an author can write a story line in such a way that keeps me guessing until the last minute. I've been known to yell out loud while reading when such a surprise happens. I'll keep reading the book even if I guess the plot/villain from chapter 1, but it's more exciting to read when I don't know the outcome. Granted, I always like a good ending. But still.

The surprise I remember most clearly was on my 26th birthday. Two friends were taking me to dinner. I had a hunch a few other friends would "surprisingly" be at the restaurant. And they were. Then in walked my parents. Wasn't expecting that. We went to Laura's house after dinner for dessert and I had a hunch a couple more people would be around. And when I walked in- I was STUNNED. The room was full of people. I thought that was it. They did it. They surprised me.

But then.

Out came the biggest surprise. You know the one. The present you've not told anyone you want. The present you've been dreaming about.  The one- that if you actually got- would be a miracle because you hadn't even hinted around about wanting it.

My friends pitched in and got me a red KitchenAid mixer. For some- that doesn't seem like a big deal. But if you know me at all- you know it's a big deal.

I can't imagine being more surprised than I was in that moment.

I've talked some on this blog about how I have not been very good at "asking." For various things. Asking for help, asking for gifts, making a Christmas list, etc. I've known for quite some time that asking doesn't mean I will receive what I ask for. And when you ask for something and receive it- an element of the surprise that I love so much is gone. I contradict myself. I'm aware. :)

So in my unanswered, or seemingly unheard prayers, I wonder if God–who knows my desires more than anyone– is thinking to Himself "she loves a good surprise. That's the Minda I want to speak to today."

So. Today I'm deciding whether or not I should ask or if I should anticipate a surprise.

The one about moving to a new city

Moving to a new city is not for the faint of heart. Moving to a new city as a single adult is for SURE not for the faint of heart. I&#...