I'm 50 and I won't apologize.

A young friend reposted a blog the other day that questioned the Happy Life we often post on social media and if it is a false representation of what we really live. A sugar coated life to present to others so they don't see what lies beneath the surface.
I commented that I had been entertaining the thought of apologizing to all of you for all of my pictures with Mr. Z, or the food, or the positive quotes, or the sappy music that makes me dance...but then I thought...

I'm 50 and I won't apologize!

We live in an in your face, hide behind the key board world. On one side I agree that we have our right to do (within the laws) and say what we want. In essence that is the beauty of our freedom in this country. Yet on the other side because we now live in a society where we have instant access to news; just add hot water and wham! everyone can become a commentator, celebrities are heroes...good or bad, your phone video could capture history. Thing is? Everyone can become a commentator! Everyone Tells Something. We are constantly bombarded with information. Buy this. Drive that. Go to this store. Only cheer for this team. Be scared of them. Hate them. If someone looks like this, be very afraid.
Rarely does that information ask questions.
Cause you to pause and reflect.
Question.
Discuss
Why?
Why dislike them?
Am I happy?
What really creates happiness?
Does anyone know how to have a discussion? Or only shove their opinion down a throat.
Possibly why children don't know how to problem solve? Hmmmm.

Kids. Get ready.

The day I turned fifty a co-worker sent me a video of Sally O'Malley. I had never seen Sally...but I sense she might be my mascot for the next year.
So friends. For your viewing pleasure...Let's start with.

Moving on. I won't apologize.

I won't apologize for my pictures with Mr. Z. I am truly happy. I have found my needle in a haystack. I found my Mr. Incredible who wants to plan adventures with me. Who loves to cook and explore new foods. My man who listens. He listens to learn. Listens to give back to me. A man who can discuss our differences. Really talk, not argue his side. Politically we do not see eye to eye on every topic. Yet we can spend hours on how we each came to our view so we know where each other stands but also so we can explain or defend their view to someone else. I would much rather someone see that Z comprehends my political view and than him trying to tell them why he hasn't "changed" me. It shows respect and cohesiveness as a couple. My man with an unshakable deep faith in a loving God. Who upon one of our first dates said he was looking for a woman who he wouldn't have to convince or coerce to sit by his side at church as they grew old. A man who prays with me. Reads scripture with me daily. Then...discusses that scripture with me, as an equal. This man who makes me laugh and giggle. Who holds my hand, kisses the back of my neck and keeps me safe by his side.
This is why I show you my pictures of me with Mr. Z.
To show you faithful deep silly love.

I won't apologize for all the pictures of the food. It means I have been blessed with plenty. I am fortunate. With this I will take note that I need to give in some way. I need to provide to others. So if anything I should apologize for not being charitable with my bounty.

I won't apologize for the pictures of my children or posts of their accomplishments. My closest friends know my kids are not perfect (sorry Peanut, Bean and Iam-I had to let them know) and that there have been some real life struggles at times. I have shared portions of the struggles here within the blog as way to move forward and celebrate the success in overcoming a hard trial. But while we are in the moment it is not for viewing pleasure. Something not all families have come to understand. While I loved the Brady Bunch I am not ready to have you all watch us play out our version of Her Sister's Shadow (Marcia! Marcia! Marcia! fame) on Facebook. So I will share posts and pictures of my kids so we can all link arms to create a strong safety net for them. But also so we can be closer for each others kids and whisper those words of encouragement into their ear when they think no one understands.

I won't apologize for friends who are...in no particular order... white, black, Asian, Polynesian, Iranian, Syrian, Christian, Jewish, Zen Buddhist, Muslim, Atheist, Mormon, Northern, Southern, Canadian, gay, liberal, conservative, straight, married, single, divorced, with kids, without kids, curly haired, straight hair, bald, freckles or no freckles....even OSU fans.
Do you see how far this can go? (And I was teased about my freckles as a child.)
Because honestly?
I have friends in each "category".
Some can claim a few. Fist bump.
I love each and every one of you.

Because you make me...me.

I am told I have a large heart that gives great love. My compassion for others. It can get me in trouble at times. Hurts at times too. Especially when the news feeds are playing teeter totter with friends.
But here I am. I won't apologize for loving my friends for who they are.
Individuals.
Seeing goodness inside them. Witnessing a struggle they have overcome. Feeling the hug they gave me when I returned to work after my mom died. Tasting food they provided my family after an illness. The look of joy on their face as they celebrate their marriage.
Can you decipher who was who.
Does it seem like only my white Christian married conservative with kids and straight hair no freckles friend could hug me after my mom died?
Get a grip folks. Legally blind without corrective lenses.

I won't apologize for my faith in a loving God. This is ultimately where my joy comes from. A God who tells me I am worthy. Who hears and answers my prayers. He lets me rage. He comforts me. He celebrates with me.

This year I have decided to celebrate fifty. Whether it be a piece of jewelry that inspires me, activities that take me outside my comfort zone, people who engage me, or vistas, music, or prose that speak to my soul...I'll post...
This is 50... and you will know it is part of the celebration of life.

Does this life make me look 50?

Here I am on the eve of turning fifty years old. 

No need to pull out the Lawrence Welk reruns and Geritol yet.....

maybe I should say Brady Bunch and Swanson Frozen Dinner to align with my era. 

But does my life make me look fifty? 

Does it smell old? Has it seen better days? Does it look dated?

No. 

It is current and geared up for adventure.

So I'll hand out a few gems of wisdom from these first fifty years of childhood. 

I'll start with one that influences women and men.

Body image. 

How about my obvious physical characteristic. Silver hair. 

I started turning gray in my late twenties. When I was thirty three I was mostly gray and decided to "let it go" before it became a Disney sensation. 

Yes kids, I was the undiscovered muse for Elsa. 

As I settled into my graying and then silver hair I had to address the rest of the outward images that caused people to judge...or caused me to assume they judge. My freckles had long been a source of an impaired self image. Body shape...the hips don't lie. 

Throw in some glasses to correct that legally blind eye sight. 

I couldn't rely on the media or my mother to empower me to love...me. 

I had to make that decision. It was and is a hard road filled with detours, people who have better transportation and potholes...bread, tall friends, and gelato to start. 

But everyday I keep a gps with me and my eyes straight ahead. 

I am a strong, healthy, beautiful and worthy of great love. 

Dating in my forties...well I discovered many men were still looking for a body type. 

An image. A brand label. Someone to make them look younger, sexier, desirable, wealthy. 

 I became selective about what I was attracted to...hands, work ethic, shoulder width, smiles accompanied with good teeth and a hearty laugh. 

I also found that a real man had his own physical foibles and owned them. They acknowledged as we age...everything settles, grows, flops somewhere else. 

Therefore love comes from a deeper place within us. 

For ourselves and each other.

Let's move on.

The next sparkly gem is that ability to overcome obstacles in life.

Everything from teenagers to divorce to a family history of addictions to religion to the hospice care of dying parents to unemployment. I have taken it on. 

At first I would allow the event to overwhelm my life. I would blame others. 

 When you blame others for your problems...they typically aren't there to fix it or save you. 

Because it's not their concern. 

They are onto the next best thing, or drama, in their life.

It was up to me to seek solutions. To forgive myself. To ask for help. 

To get my hands dirty and do the work of cleaning out the mess of my life. 

Do you know what comes with that hard work? 

You unlock your own super hero. 

That. Is empowering. 

Yes, even asking for help can be empowering. 

This next jewel goes hand in hand. 

Once you are in your superhero cape? 

Don't apologize for your strength. Don't make excuses for your abilities. Don't look back. 

The last nugget of knowledge I can pass along from these first fifty years of childhood...

Those troubles. 

Obstacles.

Finances.

People.

Worries.

Give them away. 

The one constant in my life that my parents passed along was that there is a God greater than me and He loves me. 

He loves my silver hair.

He loves my kids when they are reeking havoc on my mind and heart. 

He loves my worries.

He loves the people that drive me batty.

Recently a young man with a huge heart for God said it this way.

Christ is standing there with open hands just waiting for you to put those concerns into his hands. When you do he will say "Thank you, I have been waiting for this."

Sometimes I have to be on the floor in tears with white knuckles grasping the problem. 

I have been trying so long on my own that I can't imagine a life without that pain or heartache. 

When we place our kids, our worries, our battles in His hands we can receive peace. 

Grace.

I know this to be true. 

I handed over Ed. I handed over Peanut, Bean, and Iam. I handed over my love life. 

Without Gods hands all in my mess, like a child and finger paint, how could I have a Thanksgiving meal with Ed in Mr. Z's home? 

Without His hands in my mess how could I sleep at night while I have had teenagers with a prefrontal cortex that isn't fully developed? 

Without His hands in my mess how could I have been led to the man who is my needle in the ginormous haystack? 

So dear friend, does this life make me look fifty?

Possibly. Certain days I feel all fifty years. 

The majority of the time I'm ready to dance my next fifty out.

What I know? All those sayings that I love to share...

There is joy in the journey.

Everyday I choose.

All is well.

She took a deep breathe and let it go.

Even though she be but little, she is fierce.

They are all shadowed by this...

Flood Warning:..and I Am Standing In The Stream

This is about to get deep. For some of you the water may become a little rough, or too cold, or you might be concerned a frog or turtle is going to meander across your toes. Yet I know a few of you are looking ahead and hoping for some better rapids. Grab a swimsuit, or waders, or wet suit. One will fit your needs.

Keep in mind...This is only part of the journey.
What was one of my mantras for the last five years?
There is joy in the journey.

Last weekend I found myself in Montreat, North Carolina.  My home during my college years. A place where upon driving through the stone gate you feel a spirit that does not exist outside that gate. A place where, when I needed solace I would find a large rock in a stream, like the one pictured above, and I would sit.
Sit. Pray. Cry. Listen. Pray. Listen. Sit. Breathe. Repeat.
I also found myself smack in the middle of Flood Warnings stemming from rainfall the previous week and the backlash of Hurricane Joaquin while I was in NC.
Wanting to share "rock hopping" with Mr Z was no longer in our plans.
The streams were high and the water was running fast.

As our time of food, laughter, cloudy mountain views, and more food came too a close we went to church in the same chapel I had spent four years in during my early twenties. Years of youthful rebellion. Years of quiet repentance. Years of testing limits. Years of sweet grace.

Here is where the waters begin to rise.
Over the last year and a half or so I had been slowly doggy paddling at my church. Seems I was in deep water and needed some saving. Yet I'm not quite sure what would have been the best form of rescue. One friend described her own struggle as "drowning in the middle of strong swimmers, and that they could save me if they would! This gap between how deep my need was and how ineffectual the help was--as kindly and regularly as it was offered--proved devastating". This seemed to best explain my wayward journey...although it was not, and is not, a spiritual or moral loss. 
I was drowning, but I never became fearful of the water. 
I know it is a life source.

I started looking around. 
Almost as if I was walking around with a divining rod.
When I met Mr Z he asked about my faith, because his is solid. Has been since he was nine years old. It is his Life Guard blowing the whistle, reminding him not to run, keeping an eye out for him when someone else was jumping in, checking the water levels...all for him. 
I told him...I had water...but I was in search of water. 

Mr Z and I began to attend church together. It is not unusual for us to have an hour or more discussion on a spiritual topic. We start our days with a small devotional, via text. This, I know now, is our Anchor. It holds us firm in rough water. 

I continued my exploration. As an individual. 
I was reading daily from the best resource for water rescue. 
Sharpened my topographic map skills. 
Talking to the best Life Guard known, reaching out to him several times a day. 
I needed to be ready when I found water. 

As I sat in that chapel last weekend with Mr Z I realized I was standing in a stream.
The water was cool and clean.
Mr Z was there beside me. Hand in hand.
We have made it abundantly clear to each other that we can rock hop, or water ski, or skip stones, or go deep sea diving together.
The main focus will always be that we are in this water together.
To explore all the adventures and blessings it can provide.
To ride out the storms. To haul water to the dry garden. To provide a water bottle to the parched lips. To dance in the rain. To count the seconds between lightening and thunder. To see the rainbow and acknowledge it's promise.

As we rode home to Michigan we listened to a sermon focused on the book of Acts.
How "we come to understand that God writes his best words on human hearts and mundane lives."

The topic? Streams

I have found my source for water. I'm calling a Flood Warning.

Wound care. Applying a cool compress to difficult conversations.

Heal your wounds.
These are words that the man said.
How?
Have those difficult conversations.

When we have relationships that are strained due to a verbal injury there are times we think if we just treat it like the old adage "starve a cold, feed a fever" or is it the other way around...that it will heal itself.
Just as we all questioned that old wives tale if we follow that advice we will be left with questions. Did I do enough? Or too little? But they didn't text first. Will we ever talk again? How awkward will that meeting be? What if I run into them at Kroger? I'll just switch which Kroger I shop at. What?!
It becomes too petty.

If we truly want happiness. Peace. Then we have to have those conversations.
Nurse Nan(cy) prescribes biting the bullet.
Over the last five years I have become pretty adept at this process.
I offer a few pointers. 

• Don't rush the process. Take the time to think, pray, meditate about how these conversations could go. Maybe this is psyching yourself up? Or mindfulness? Or hating the dentist but knowing you have to go and face the fear. 
• Write down important points you want to make. Sit with that for a few days. As you continue to pray, meditate, think, walk...more points might come to mind...or some might fall off the list. Similar to the referral list for a new doctor. 
• If you have several people to talk to regarding one topic consider the order of who and why. You wouldn't tell the town gossip about your elective cosmetic surgery before you tell your kids. 
• Easier said than done...don't get defensive. Your purpose here is to heal a wound so you can have happiness and peace. Whether that means with that person in your life at the end of the talk, or not. If you become defensive you are back at the first point. Reschedule surgery. 

With a healthy conversation we can let go of the pain to a friendship, injury to an ego, or surgically remove the cyst that is reeking havoc on our entire system. 

UnHumpty Dumpty-fying Myself.

Lately I have felt like my life has been cluttered. Not just my rooms, cupboards, drawers, closets, the back seat of the car, but even my mind, body, and heart. I've struggled with what was causing this discomfort. My youngest starting his senior year? Lack of exercise (I know that one is an obvious, yes!). Was it heading into Fall? Or that all this "stuff" was going to cause a fall?
Something lurking around the corner. It might be the king's gardener trying to find who was mushing up the plantings trying to climb up on the wall everyday.
When I get these scrambled feelings it usually means I'm trying to process an emotion.
Or.
A change is about to occur.

Recently I was referred to the book The Top Five Regrets of the Dying by Bronnie Ware.

I reflected on these statements in relation to my current life. Overall, I believe in the past five years I have made headway in all five. I'm feeling pretty good about myself.

Then this statement of UnHumpty Dumpty-fying. Well, that's embarrassing!
I have egg shells scattered in several places.
Some are still at work.
A few are struggling with honest emotions.
Then there are a couple over there that are dragging some along to happiness.

How did I get here? How did I feel so confident up on my wall and then realize I am splattered all over the garden?
Dear friend. It was my time on Facebook.
Whether it was mindlessly scrolling through posts, or following articles then linking to the next, and the next, and the next, or making my own posts to ensure that you, my dear reader, knew I was happy...I was wasting my time...when I could be working on other things to improve my life... to produce a happy outcome.

I find I don't get as emotionally connected or affected by my time on Instagram, Pinterest or Tumblr. I can easily turn them off.
But Facebook?
Not the same. Similar to the delivery of my middle child when they gave me Demerol for pain. Three minutes or three hours could have gone by...I had no concept of time.

So, how do I get myself all Mother Goosey Dumptyfied?
I share my Facebook Fast.
Right now it's time to focus on me. That involves;
-My relationship with the King. My daily readings. How do I make changes in my routine and my interactions. Because his horses and men can't do the work. I have to walk around and pick up my pieces.
-Community Service. Helping out in the kingdom. Where? How? When? Why? I know I want to do this as an individual, also with Mr. Z. Yet do I really have the time to give to two different places? Or should I give extra at one agency? All questions I need to figure out and I can't do while looking at meme's.
-Cultivating the friendships that are truly important to me. I need to schedule the time with Handy Pandy, Jack Sprat, and Georgy Porgy or else I'll be stuck like The Girl In The Lane.  
-Fall has often been the time my exercise has increased and improved. Therefore, walking will become a regular replacement after work, instead of scrolling through the Facebook feed. This can only strengthen cracks and clear the scrambled mind.

You may randomly see a post through my blog or Instagram or Mr. Z. I hope you enjoy the brief Sunny Side Up view.
Be safe. Speak kindly to one another. Dance.
For now, I'm setting the egg timer for hard boil.

Applications Closed: Bob Parr Found...Superheroes

As you may recall, dear friend, I solicited your help back in October of 2013 to find my Bob Parr (A.K.A. Mr. Incredible). I  am fully aware it has been nearly five months since I last updated this blog. I'm pleased to announce that applications, interviews, looking at head shots and bathroom mirror selfies, checking references, and humiliating dates... the whole shebang is closed. 

Bob Parr is in the house. (Identity protected with a Zetterberg jersey above....so we will call him Mr.Z)

His life mirrors Bob's...in my mind.

Bob has an unassuming job as an insurance salesman. In his spare time he aspires to use his Super Powers and save the world from evil forces. 

Mr.Z works at a big box hardware store where he is highly knowledgeable, and underutilized. In his spare time he putters, tinkers, caresses to life, parts of his 1920's farm house. He cares, cuts, prunes, and primps the acreage and pear trees he oversees. While he is riding his tractor or remodeling a bathroom his mind flies with concepts for sculptures, kitchen furniture, light fixtures, paintings...most made with reused/recycled materials...it's never ending. 

It's this idea that Bob Parr has of saving the world from evil....Mr. Z will bring art into a home...giving that home new life, new energy. 

Vibrant. 

Resonating through everyone who enters. 

You may ask, what are Mr. Z's other Super Powers? I requested someone with an adventurous and passionate spirit in all aspects of their life. 

Z has it. 

I promise dear reader...a trip to the ice cream shop in Horton, MI ends in an adventure and your beloved one here is giggling uncontrollably with tears streaming down her face. 

He brings laughter, food preparation and exploration, long discussions on everything from scriptural stories to cartoon characters, and an almost identical love of music. Plus he is my dancing fool. 

Add to all of that...we have been encountering "life". Tough decisions, no hidden agendas, real emotions, full disclosure, rip off the mask, can you look at that and still love me communication...then there is Nan experiencing 90 degree days in a 1920 farm house with no A/C and being pre menopausal. All good stuff. Right! 

I apologize for the mushy gushy marshmallow fluffy post here. Yet, one must admit it's been a long time coming. Some have said the sugar sweet happy grin has been impossible to ignore on our faces. Could be. 

I know this. 

I have never had a moment with Mr. Z since the day I met him where I have not felt emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually....safe...encouraged...engaged...and respected. 

In the words of Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl....

Elastigirl: What is this to you? Playtime? 

Mr. Incredible: No. 
Elastigirl: So you can be Mr. Incredible again? 
Mr. Incredible: No! 
Elastigirl: Then what? What is it? 
Mr. Incredible: I'm not... 
Elastigirl: Not what? 
Mr. Incredible: Not... I'm not strong enough. 
Elastigirl: Strong enough? And this will make you stronger? 
Mr. Incredible: Yes. No! 
Elastigirl: That's what this is? Some sort of work out? 
Mr. Incredible: [shouts] I can't lose you again! 
[calms down] 
Mr. Incredible: I can't. Not again. I'm not s-strong enough. 
Elastigirl: [kisses him] If we work together, you won't have to be. 
Mr. Incredible: I don't know what will happen... 
Elastigirl: Hey, c'mon. We're superheroes.

Mr. Z and Me...We're Superheroes. #happyplace 

Man! Take Time To Know Yourself!

Over the last three years of online dating I have come to one conclusion. 

A large portion of men do not take the time to reflect and heal themselves after their divorce. 

They assume that the weight of the problem is cut lose when the papers are signed. When that woman is no longer there. 

The men I have met quickly jump into dating. 

From there I have discovered there are three categories. 

The Flybys. These men date as many women as they possibly can in a short period of time. It's a blur. Typically they call you "babe" or "honey" or "sexy little lady". I think this is so they don't need to recall names. We are all the same. But they cannot settle and are distracted by shiny things...like other women. 

The Almost Made It Guys. They aren't always getting over an ex from a divorce it may just be the last steady girlfriend. These men are a little more selective in their dating process. They actually pick women who may fulfill their criteria. You may date for several months or just a few dates. As the woman you think "this is going pretty well." Then the phone call. The excuses vary. The ex girlfriend called. You live too far away. You are a great gal, but he just doesn't feel it. It ends abruptly.

This last group is a subcategory of the Almost Made It Guys. This small flock is a rare breed. Very difficult to come by, but when you do you actually come across one you may have the potential to remain friends....but only if you have taken the time to know yourself first. These men are actually honest. You may date for several months. Great conversations that are a balance of intellect, goofy, embarrassing tales, and deep soul searching. Your times together are comfortable and enjoyable. But then...they can't move any further. They freeze. A shocking realization that they are not a whole man comes into their line of sight. These men see that entire pieces of them are still bruised or angry or downright smushed. These men break the icy layer, turn to you with a clear eye and tell you they can't go forward because they are still broken inside and it's not up to you to fix them. Did I say painfully honest? They care about your feelings and know it's not right to lead a woman on. This man? when he has completed the journey of getting to know himself as an individual will be a fine catch for a specific woman. 

Because this is what I have learned. Men and women. No matter how amicable your divorce was or how nasty it was...if you don't take the time to Stop. 

Look inside. 

Take inventory. 

Decide what you need to keep, what is to be thrown out, and what can be reused. 

Mend the reusable. 

Remove the trash...whether it's bad thoughts or negative energy or unrealistic expectations. 

Get a big ol' dumpster and pitch away. 

This often involves some heavy lifting, screaming and one or two tears at least. 

But get it out. 

Or you will never move on.

Then.

Just sit with what is left. Look at it. Hold it up to the light and fresh air. Let it breathe. Enjoy what you have discovered...on your own. You discovered it yourself. Relish the discovery by yourself.

Then, and only then.

Open the door to allow selective applicants in to browse.

Unless you know yourself how will you know who really appreciates your masterpiece?

Online Dating At Almost 50.

For those of you that want the cliffs notes version.... possibly the time I had my eye irrigated was more enjoyable. 

For those of you that want to hang around for the full text version. Settle in. We are taking off on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride of Online Dating.

See Mr. Toad above? Online dating is the same. Your eyes spin and half the time you feel like a train is heading straight at you. Did you ever have the opportunity to experience Mr. Toad's Wild Ride? Then you recall how it would jerk you left and right and then ended with a fizzling blah exit. 

I'd say this accurately describes online dating at almost 50.  

I ran across this article a week or so ago. This Is How We Date Now. I would say it is a fair explanation of how the world of social media has jeopardized dating, relationships, intimacy and romance. Men and women alike know that if this one doesn't work out there are thousands more to choose from. Social media dating diminishes trust and promotes one or both of the parties to lie and cover up. 

It has provided a platform where men and women alike can hide behind a screen. 

Basic consideration, decorum and manners are left behind. Messages can be rude and/or crude. Seriously, twenty-four year old? I'm not your Demi Moore. 

A potential date may have posted pictures from years ago so that if you then decide to meet face to face you wonder "did they think I wouldn't notice?"  

Then there is what they write about themselves. Did you know that most available men in a twenty five mile radius of Ann Arbor are laid back? They also like to laugh. May I ask...who doesn't like to laugh, really? But the deeper issue is that daters can state that they are looking for a lasting relationship. Yet once you meet and the conversation expands you discover they actually are looking for a relationship that lasts until the milk in your fridge expires. 

I'm not wanting to bash men in general. I have met enough to know that there are women out there playing the same games. I just wish they came with warnings or a review written by their last four dates. 

A little over a year ago I made the post Mr. Incredible. Accepting Applications. 

Nothing has changed. I'm still looking for my Bob Parr. I still believe he is out there. I don't believe that Heavenly Father kept me here to live my life without a loving, supportive, adventurous, passionate, respectful man. A man who is capable of taking on my intensity for love, life and wee babies. 

So here I am again....note dazzling photo below....asking you, dear reader for your assistance. I still think the best way for me to meet someone will be naturally or through one of you. Because you know me best. You know what makes me brave, graceful, sensitive, and slightly addicted to gelato. 

It's time to get Nan off Mr. Toad's Wild Ride and onto the Tomorrowland Transit Authority with Mr. Incredible as the conductor. 

In return I promise an Iorio's gelato trip for the matchmaker along with my Bob Parr. 

A Year In The Life Of Nan: 2014

 “She burned too bright for this world.” -Emily Bronte

 "Listen to her when she speaks life. The world is so cold. That's why God made her heart so warm. When things get tough don't turn on her; turn to her. She's so strong because she's your backbone. Don't try to break her; build her and you'll be a better man for it." -Tony Gaskins Jr.

 

 

 "You doubt your value. Don't run from who you are." - Aslan

 

             

 "Little girls with dreams become women with vision." -Unknown

Bacon Cheddar Waffles

 

 “Don’t you quit. You keep walking, you keep trying, there is help and happiness ahead. Some blessings come soon. Some come late. Some don’t come until heaven. But for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, they come. It will be alright in the end. Trust God and believe in Good Things to Come.”
-Jeffrey R. Holland

 

 

 

 

 #newday

 If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. - African Proverb

 

 #RollTide

 though she be but little, she is fierce

w.s

 #thirdcoastkings

 

 

 "Never look back, darling. It distracts from the now."

-Edna Mode

 
 

 

“So come to the pond,

or the river of your imagination,

or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.

And live your life.” -Mary Oliver "Red Bird" 

 

 

 

"I think it’s intoxicating when somebody is so unapologetically who they are."-Don Cheadle 

 

 

 “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; 

the most massive characters are seared with scars.” 

― Khalil Gibran

 

 

 "God will direct your steps." Proverbs 16:9

 

 

“In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things, does the heart find its morning and is refreshed." ― Khalil Gibran

 

 #newday

 “who taught you 

that the 

value of a woman

is the ratio

of her waist 

to her hips

and the circumference

of her buttocks

and the volume 

of her lips?

Your math 

is

dangerously wrong

her value 

is 

nothing less

than

infinite.”

—  Della Hicks-Wilson