About a week and a half ago I signed the pink slip to my husband's car over to a junk hauler, who towed the non-functioning car out of our driveway and off for parts. My dad had already taken the front seats for one of his many automotive projects, and I was just sad there was still a half a tank of gas and a brand new tire being towed away.

That car had come at a critical time and blessed my family like crazy. It was literally given to us by friends. It served as the too and from work car...missing seat belts and stalling several times a day. We'd had that looked at but with a repair that would cost in excess of $500 and not guarantee a new problem, we just let it be. So my sweet husband learned to take surface streets and recognize the familiar rattle at a stop light that would indicate a stall coming on. His commute  was at least 40 mins longer when the car was cranky...40 precious minutes.

Finally, a few weeks ago, it died. He went out to start the car one morning and the car simply declined to obey and said "click" instead. Just click, we were a one car family.

We made due, because that's just kind of what we do. We all dig in and make it work. We had friends who were willing to lend a ride here and there and occasionally I could borrow my parent's car to get the kids to school.

We were waiting on some financial stuff to fall into place, waiting on a car to become available. The used car we had intended to purchase was suddenly unavailable just as we were ready to go and then we had no direction.

I took to the internet to learn how to even start looking. We had no ideas. New verses used. Small verses large...we just didn't know.

As a joke my husband said "Too bad no one is selling my dream car. To which I replied, "I actually saw one listed today" so of course he went to look...but in the few hours since I had seen a black beat up model someone listed a beautiful, white with turquoise interior, CONVERTIBLE. I have seen the pictures of The Dream Car. The car he had as a teen and let go. The car I had heard about from before we got married. The Classic car. And here it was. The right color, a great price and an engine with only 66,000 a 50 year old car!

The next week was a series of crazy events that *dropped* our car payment. Left insurance nearly the same with better coverage. And finding out the gas mileage in The Dream Car would be better than the staller.

Three days ago, we brought home The Dream.

And everytime I look at it, I see a love letter from God. We didn't need *this car*. The point could be made that we didn't even *need* a second car, though just one was really tough. This car is *nothing* but a gift. Why? I have no idea other than that God is a good good daddy and He delights in the joy of His children...Like when I buy Goldfish crackers and know my nearly grown teen son will love them. Or when I offer "nanas" to the baby and she grins like a monkey.

God is *that* invested in our silly dreams. Our insignificant wants. Sometimes, for no greater reason at all, He wants us to know that we are His favorites. Because we are. Each and every one of us...His favorites.

Sometimes I look at my life and can not believe that this is the life God planned for me. That He looked at me and decided He was going to just start pouring ridiculous blessings on this average girl from the valley of Southern California. That He had these great big plans for my life and that they would all be wrapped in this veil of ordinary and everyday.

Wife, Stay at Home Mom, Five Kids, little rented house, minivan...doesn't sound like much...but it exceeds my dreams every day.

Today was a very average day, but so special. Today my husband got up, took the kids to school, and worked his job. He took our oldest to biblestudy and entertained himself waiting for our young man to be finished.

All this on his birthday.

No elaborate dinners, just an average day.

And I walked away from it feeling blessed. Grateful that this man was the man God choose for me, when we were just kids ourselves. Today I am thankful that he was born, because that means I get to be his wife and love him on many more birthdays.

Happy Birthday Steven, I hope you know that this day is a gift for me. <3
Last week one of my dearest friends updater her facebook status : "what do i want to be when I grow up?"

Let me explain something about her, she's amazing. Not just in that I-love-her-so-I-think-she-is-amazing ways. Truly an amazing woman. She is giving and genuine. Funny and passionate. An excellent mother with adorable children who know they are loved. She is a thoughtful and kind wife. She can seriously make anything grow and has turned her suburban backyard into an impressive mini farm. She can write so transparently that I feel every emotion she conveys and she can capture moments with her camera that are breathtaking.

Yet, she doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up.

She wrote this to me in an email, hopefully I'm not breaking any code sharing it here:

I don’t know what to do with my life. Is this thing really something God has in the plans for me? Or is it just a fun distraction I’ve come up with on my own?

I have been thinking about this so much lately, because all of it resonates with me. It has for years, and especially after each baby...but now, when the *last* baby starts to grow big enough to be somewhat independent I look around and think, now what?

My first baby is going off to highschool next year, and my littlest baby is walking and talking...for nearly 14 years I have been birthing, nursing, changing diapers, wiping noses, and pouring myself out for these little people.

So I can't help but think "What's next?"

I have no answers. I never do. I am getting a lot better at waiting to see. But I still get restless.

So I decided to run.

I hate running. I have always said you should only run if you are being chased. Yet, one day, I decided to run.

I am training for a 5k. Pretending I might turn into a runner. I don't know if I ever will. I don't know that I have awakened a passion within me. I just know, that I have never run it's new and exciting.

It is something I do, 100%, for myself. It's not about being a good mom or wife, it is just about being me. On my own.

So, like my friend, I wonder if it might be just a fun distraction...but I don't think it is wrong if it is.