tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57567449541825418592024-03-13T13:49:41.684-07:00All the Good Titles Were TakenThere is a little bit of everything here. In May of 2007 I began a journey I could never have imagined and I chronicled it all. I am a new person now and the journey hasn't ended but there are little side streets I've never really shared...but here I can.Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.comBlogger163125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-83187081202836512072020-01-22T12:40:00.001-08:002020-01-22T12:40:11.464-08:00When you go through deep waters, I will be with you...<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
I wanted to take a video of the waves crashing on the ocean shore this morning, sometimes one on top of the other, other times with moments of relative peace and calm with the occasional unbreaking swell.</div>
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There were surfers out there riding the waves, and surfers thrown free of their boards, while said boards shot into the air. I couldn't see the surfers tumbled about under the waves, but saw them pop up eventually and start again.</div>
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Sometimes the waves would break and crash i<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">nto each other, sending spray several feet in the air.</span></div>
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The ocean and it's waves seemed to spread endlessly, going on as far as my eye could see.</div>
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I stared at the beautiful, deadly, refreshing, wild, endless, churning ocean and thought about how I've been treading in those waves every day.</div>
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I have felt the salt on my skin as I've wept, as another one of life's waves crashed in. I have floated along, carried by the calmer moments, I have been pinned under a wave so big, long enough to think I'd never breathe again, but suddenly been let up just long enough to catch my breath. I've treaded water in high tide and felt my feet firmly planted as the water receded for a moment.</div>
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I've been tossed about and dragged down the beach until I could scarcely recognize where I stepped in.</div>
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But you know what I haven't done, I have not drowned. By the faithfulness of God, who sustains me in the very deepest waters I have not drowned.</div>
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Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-48648437308342845342016-05-04T11:05:00.003-07:002016-05-04T11:05:51.273-07:00More Than a PhotographNearly two years ago, fresh on the heels of the death of both of my parents, my family and I made the painful decision to leave our home church. The church where I met Jesus. The church my husband rededicated his life to God, the church that saw all five of my babies born, the church where we said good-bye to our daughter, the church where two of my children chose to be baptized.<br /><br />To say it was hard is an understatement, it was like another loss, another death, yet we knew for sure this was the path God had set before us.<br /><br />God does not always promise easy, but He does promise to carry us.<br /><br />Leaving carried, not only the pain of separation, but also of a several deep wounds... wounds that needed time, and space to heal.<br /><br />While we knew we were walking the path God laid out, it was hard to bring our children on the journey. They, too, were leaving home. The familiar. Friends and adopted family. The older kids knew, they saw all of the reasons we were making this move, and it was still difficult. The little ones though, to them, everything was just changing.<br /><br />I wondered if my sweet baby would ever know the comfort and familiarity of our new church? Would it ever be a place she knew to be just an extension of home?<br /><br />And Jackie, not shy but not quick to warm up, a quirky kid who doesn't love change. A kid who had his routine and his people, and was the only one truly vocal about how much he missed what our old church had that our new church appeared to be missing.<br /><br />Jackie, who after months of attending our new church, didn't really know any of the kids in his class.<br /><br />I would be lying if I didn't wonder, often, if we'd misunderstood God's leading. If we might be hurting our children, yet God continued to whisper...continued to reassure.<br /><br />Then, yesterday, without even knowing she had captured something holy, <a href="http://www.staceelianna.com/" target="_blank">Aunt Stacee</a> sent me this photo. A photo of three hilariously goofy friends.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v0RFya3TL7c/Vyo52MM5v9I/AAAAAAAAAsg/8l-SUFLrwOIVvO4ueE8u67VHzTolVuaOQCK4B/s1600/West%2BTorrance%2BLittle%2BLeague-Cardinals%2B2016-0009.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v0RFya3TL7c/Vyo52MM5v9I/AAAAAAAAAsg/8l-SUFLrwOIVvO4ueE8u67VHzTolVuaOQCK4B/s320/West%2BTorrance%2BLittle%2BLeague-Cardinals%2B2016-0009.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Three friends that laugh and goof around and passionately love baseball. What you can't see is that these boys all also love Jesus. And that these boys all attend our new church. <br /><br />That's right, God, in His infinite grace brought all of these boys from our new church together on the ball field. God knows my boy enough to know that the connections would be easier, and more fluid here. That the friendships would form differently and more naturally.<br /><br />I am forever amazed that God loves us for our unique quirks, and not in spite of them. That He finds ways to love on us in ways that only matter to us.<br /><br />Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-12235190930565091312015-05-01T15:05:00.001-07:002015-05-01T15:05:10.300-07:00Dusting Off the KeyboardDo people even read blogs anymore? Or is it all snippets on facebook? Or maybe those are the only blogs that get read? The ones that get linked on Facebook? You know the ones that tackle that one subject you're passionate about and finally say all those things you couldn't figure out how to say.<br /><br />Well, regardless... here I am. I have this goal of posting a few times a week, but if I'm honest, every time I say that some new plague overtakes my home and that priority falls very much by the wayside. Here I am though, regardless, trying to dust things off and start again.<br /><br />A little over a month ago I had an appointment with a counselor who basically told me I didn't need therapy, but what I did need was some time to sit, think, and process a little. I came up with a plan to take some time each week and really get alone and write. I have been alone exactly zero times since then. (See, I make plans... and *boom*)<br /><br />So here I sit. It is quite the opposite of sitting at Starbucks, people watching, and thinking deep profound things. Instead, I'm hearing the awesome sounds of Batman, the Animated Series, and Zoe's cough in the background. I am sitting in perfect view of the three loads of laundry that need folding, and I am snacking on the very healthy lunch of Jelly Belly's that I'm sharing with my sweet boy.<br /><br />So much is happening in my head and heart over the last several months, as I begin to tentatively step into new relationships and a (once again) radically changed and challenged faith. If I don't start to write it all down, I will continue to escape in to Netflix marathons of Bones or weeping while I watch the latest love stories unfold in the Duggar clan.<br /><br />Where to even start...<br /><br />It's been nearly ten months since my family left the comfort and familiarity of our old, home church. The very church where I met Jesus. The church my husband and I were married in, and the place where each of my five children were dedicated to God. The church where sweet Eden was prayed for, expected, and mourned.<br /><br />To say it's been a challenge is such an understatement.<br /><br />I was rather unprepared for the deep grieving and mourning that this all would entail. I knew it would be sad, but I didn't expect to feel completely lost and adrift... for many, many months.<br /><br />It's only been in the last few months that I've begun to feel solid ground under me again, and that is a beautiful, beautiful thing. God, of course, did not waste any of that time that felt so lost. He never does. In His infinite wisdom, he allowed this time to bring me to a place of desperate need that only He could meet.<br /><br />A place where what I sought out was Him, not all the other. New relationships, a new "place" in the world... and then, The rest fell in, right behind.<br /><br />I still miss a lot about the church we left, and I still feel a bit like a visitor sometimes, but I know God is leading the steps in this new "home" and I am excited about the journey.<br /><br /><br /><br />Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-91534900266973152122014-12-06T10:47:00.001-08:002014-12-06T10:47:31.044-08:00On Life and Loneliness and Reaching OutA few months ago my family and I realized that God was doing something new in our lives... again. I wonder if we can even call it new since nothing has felt the same or old or even familiar since the day we found out our sweet Eden was going to die nearly eight years ago.<br /><br />Eight years? That hardly seems possible!<br /><br />But here it was, a new new. A HUGE new. A new I sensed was coming for quite a while but finally was certain was here. Was upon us. It was exciting and terrifying all at once.<br /><br />A few months ago, my husband and I sat with out pastor, the pastor of the church in which I met Jesus. the pastor of the church I'd dedicated four babies in, The church where we'd loved and hoped for, and ultimately said goodbye to our second daughter... we sat with our pastor and told him we were leaving.<br /><br />We weren't angry. The church wasn't wrong or bad... but God was calling us away.<br /><br />It was one of the most difficult conversations of my life.<br /><br />My parents had died and my pastor and his wife had always loved me like I was one of their own... so now I was an orphan and leaving the safety, security, and familiarity of these two people as well.<br /><br />As sad as I was, knowing this was what God wanted made it a little exciting too.<br /><br />Until it was real.<br /><br />Until Sunday morning came and we had to find seats in a new building, with nothing familiar... until I signed my children in as visitors and saw my daughter be nervous and timid upon entering class...where at home, at *our church* she'd always rushed right in.<br /><br />Until the singing began and no one was clapping. I guess *they* don't clap here. They clapped at *our church*.<br /><br />And then, just like that the familiar did stir... because Jesus was there... and all of the parts of me that felt so exposed and raw were just a little bit more comfortable, because the same God from *our church* was the same god at this church.<br /><br />I wish that was the end. The "And then it was all better and we lived happily ever after. The End" end. But is wasn't and it isn't.<br /><br />I'm learning that it can be incredibly difficult being new. Not knowing people and making new friends. I feel so far outside my comfort zone at ever event or woman's get together. Not because people are unfriendly, because people really are kind and sincere... but they aren't *my* friends... they are *their* friends. I'm still the new kid.<br /><br />You know what I am learning in it though? God is still my friend. He still cares and he hasn't changed.<br /><br />I'm learning that my little is full of really cool, really fun to be around people. I'm learning that God loves to meet us in our desperate places.<br /><br /><div>
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Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-64180248689774512952014-10-30T08:16:00.000-07:002014-10-30T08:16:44.243-07:00Time doesn't heal everythingI've been thinking about you a lot lately... If I'm honest I've been thinking about you for two years.<br /><br />I've been thinking about how hard we used to laugh. I've been thinking about how amazing it was to watch you find the heart of a God who adores you. I've been thinking about the things you always said you wanted... but mostly, I've been thinking how much I miss you.<br /><br />How my heart literally aches at the thought of you. How, when I talk about you, I still start to cry. How I'm probably the only one who still hopes things will go back to the way they were.<br /><br />I pray for you all the time... every time I think of you.<br /><br />I don't know what to do with this ache, other than to pray.<br /><br />Sometimes, I compose long emails to you. Sometimes full of love and hope... sometimes a little pointed and snarky... imagining that if I sent them the sting would snap you back into who you once were. I never send them, though sometimes I'm pretty close.<br /><br />You don't know the kids anymore. You're missing so much. So much AMAZING stuff... and I just can't believe you're better for it. I can't imagine that the unconditional love of four incredible people isn't missed, either. What do you do with that? Do you even feel the loss? One of them still really feels the loss of you.<br /><br />I do hope your life is good, but more than that, I pray that you'll be led back to a place of desperation, a place where God becomes *all* that you need and want. Even if *I* never see it. Even if I don't get to be a part of it... that is all I have ever wanted for you... God's perfect and amazing plan.Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-7593960074823455602014-03-17T21:06:00.002-07:002014-03-17T21:06:20.955-07:00Healing in every stepWaaaaaay back in August, when <a href="http://www.staceeliannablog.com/" target="_blank">Stacee</a> presented this crazy idea to run a half marathon to raise money for <a href="http://team.worldvision.org/site/PageServer?pagename=TWV_Home" target="_blank">Team World Vision</a>, I thought "Cool. 13.1 miles. That will be tough but fun."<br /><br />Let me tell you, I had no idea at. all. what I was signing up for. None.<br /><br />It wasn't just the 13.1 miles we ran on March 9th, but the 150-200 training miles we ran over the course of 6 months...it was the new shoes, chiropractor visits, special socks...it was hours and hours of physical strain.<br /><br />It was hard.<br /><br />And it was life. changing.<br />
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It's taken me a long time to try and formulate words to put with my experience, mostly because I don't really understand a lot of it, not yet, maybe not ever.<br /><br />I don't know why running = clean water. I don't know why someone says "Yes, I'll support this" when you put one foot in front of the other over and over again. Much like I don't know why Jesus spit in mud to heal a blind man. Most of all, I don't know how finishing a 13.1 mile run, and connecting to a cause that had never really been on my radar before, completely reworked who I am inside.<br />
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It's not the running. I still don't really love running, I like having run. I like doing a fun 5k with cool goodie bags are a silly theme, but it's not the running that changed me. It was doing something huge, something so far beyond myself, so in opposition to who I thought I was...God healed something deep inside me on the streets of LA on March 9th, in a sea of 25,000 God stretched out His hand and showed me a strength I never knew I had. Taught me that I can persevere, and that I don't always just give up. That, with His leading, I really can do hard things!<br /><br />With <a href="http://threeforme.blogspot.com/search/label/first%20post" target="_blank">Eden's diagnosis</a>, my pregnancy with her, and her death...He showed me I could survive hard things. That I could still grow in the midst of trial... but this time, it was that I could *do* hard things. That I could step it faith and push on. I never knew that about myself, and have spent much of the last 39 years feeling like a quitter. Listing my failures and half finished projects as constant proof.<br />
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Not anymore. On March 9th I ran 13.1 miles for God's glory. He led me, and I pushed hard... and He blessed me with a chance to partner with Him to *change lives*. Not a few either... at last count the Team World Vision LA Marathon team had given clean water to just over 14,600 people!!!Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-53302804219737914572014-01-07T14:18:00.000-08:002014-01-07T14:18:01.806-08:00(Half) Marathon Monday(On Tuesday) : My Favorite PartHere's my most favorite part about running outside...because the reality is, running on a treadmill is easier and climate controlled. Running outside is so much harder. There is wind, and cold, and hills...no fun!<br /><br />But my favorite part. My most absolute favorite part about running outside, and specifically in my neighborhood, comes after the run. Sometimes I'll be driving somewhere and think "I ran this! All the way from there to here and beyond. All the way from that street I just turned on to where I am now. Up those hills."<br /><br />That's the *best* part. I'm still not loving to run. I'm still fairly certain I might just collapse in a puddle of tears and sweat around mile marker 10 on the marathon route in March. Truth is, I'm quite terrified of the actual half-marathon.<br /><br />But in my car, on the streets I run, I feel like maybe I'll make it.<br /><br />Please consider joining me by donating to <a href="http://team.worldvision.org/goto/alexisanderson" target="_blank">Team World Vision</a>. This is not something I can do alone...you're support means the world to me!Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-60343352141924705362013-11-25T06:30:00.000-08:002013-11-25T08:21:20.246-08:00(Half) Marathon Monday: On Failure and Giving UpThis past weekend was a group training run with <a href="http://team.worldvision.org/site/TR/TeamWorldVision/TeamWorldVision?px=1405110&pg=personal&fr_id=2430" target="_blank">Team World Vision</a>. I was tired and it was very cold for this Southern California Girl...but I was feeling pretty good about things. I felt ready.<br />
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I stretched with our group, I started to warm up. I was inspired by the combined energy of 20 or so people united in this common cause to bring clean water to children in Africa and to eradicate the water crisis in my lifetime.<br />
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The course was a little different than I'd run before but I was excited to get out and push for those 50 minutes...maybe someday I *wouldn't* hate running.<br />
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<a href="http://www.staceeliannablog.com/2013/10/running-for-water-personal/" target="_blank">Stacee</a> and I started at a nice jog...up hill.<br />
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I'm not sure if it was the cold, my stuffy nose, the hill, or what but I soon found myself lagging behind on that uphill run. When we hit the straight away I evened out a bit and then, I just couldn't keep up anymore. I couldn't push. I lost Stacee and ended up totally solo. My lungs hurt and my Nike Run app was reminding me that I was a full minute behind my normal pace. Suddenly it just seemed too hard. I wanted to sit down in the middle of the path and just cry.<br />
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Saturday was the day I looked at the Half Marathon and thought that maybe I really can't do this. That I failed, and would fail. That I would have to contact my supporters and tell them I couldn't actually run.<br />
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Maybe I could help my team fundraise.<br />
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I almost started crying on the path. The crazy non-runner...all by herself...lost from the pack because the path veers and I didn't get what they said and missed the sign to turn...almost had a break down right there.<br />
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Still I had to get back to the car, to get home, and quit. And the car was so far...so I turned around and started running back.<br />
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Running, feeling like a failure, and still running.<br />
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Somewhere between get lost and the parking lot God met me in my failure. He reminded me that I wasn't running for *me*. That it wasn't just some crazy idea...but HIS crazy idea, that HE would strengthen and sustain me.<br />
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It was still really hard...and my body still wanted to give up. I'm still going to want to give up when my alarm goes off...but i will get up, and I will lace up my shoes, and I will ask God to meet me, mold me, teach me and use me while I am pushing my body beyond what *I* think it can do.<br />
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Please continue to pray with me; for the villages where clean water is so desperately needed, for my physically (and emotionally) to endure and be transformed...and most importantly for my fundraising efforts. Also, please consider joining with me to change lives by <a href="http://team.worldvision.org/site/TR/TeamWorldVision/TeamWorldVision?px=1405110&pg=personal&fr_id=2430" target="_blank">donating</a> :)Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-12698701293446749902013-11-18T07:24:00.000-08:002013-11-18T07:24:44.825-08:00(Half) Marathon Monday...Post OneIf you follow me on Instagram you may have seen <a href="http://instagram.com/p/gyVPg4gamn/" target="_blank">this post</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6VExVGm1fDs/UomaLO8TNgI/AAAAAAAAAUU/UD0Oc2tBDu4/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6VExVGm1fDs/UomaLO8TNgI/AAAAAAAAAUU/UD0Oc2tBDu4/s320/photo+(1).JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i><span data-reactid=".r[1peys].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0].[1].[1].[0].[0].[0].[0].[1].[2][1].[0]" style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #222222; font-family: proxima-nova, 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: start;">This is an actual water container that a little girl in The Congo started carrying 6 miles, 3 times a day, when she was just 5 years old. I could barely lift it and it wasn't even full. Partner with me and let's change lives and communities. </span><span data-reactid=".r[1peys].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0].[1].[1].[0].[0].[0].[0].[1].[2][1].[1]" style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #222222; font-family: proxima-nova, 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: start;">#runningforwater</span></i></div>
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What you couldn't see in just a quick snapshot was that I was nearly in tears hearing the Leader from World Vision talk about his sponsored child carrying that very container, thinking about how my youngest son is a vibrant robust 8 year old who sometimes has a hard time carrying a milk jug. The idea of him being THREE years into his water fetching responsibilities broke my heart.<br />
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I knew when I, a dyed in the wool NON-Runner, signed up to run the LA Half Marathon with Team World Vision, that it would challenge and change me, but I had no idea how much.<br />
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I am so hopeful that you will want to join with me in this crazy and <i>world</i> changing endeavor. You might not be able to physically run with me on March 9th, but you can join me in prayer as World Vision aims to eradicate the water crisis in Africa in *my lifetime*...or, <a href="http://team.worldvision.org/site/TR/TeamWorldVision/TeamWorldVision?px=1405110&pg=personal&fr_id=2430" target="_blank">you can partner with me financially</a>. I am only 7% to my goal but I know we can do this together!<br />
<br />Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-12053568655122270642013-08-10T19:28:00.001-07:002013-08-10T19:28:18.860-07:00Not Swept OverI wasn't kidding when I said that God was pulling something out of the depths of my brokenness. That I could feel it stirring.<br />
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I jumped in with both feet when I was given the opportunity to have a team of people who were all working towards or <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Start-Escape-Average-Matters-ebook/dp/B00CHVIVMY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1374125412&sr=8-1&keywords=start+jon+acuff" target="_blank">Starting</a> something. Chasing a dream. Taking big steps. I couldn't have been more excited...and then it was happening and so was my life...and it felt like everything just blew up. It was awful.<br />
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I feel like I have been in the middle of refinement forever...and truth be told, it's been really ugly.<br /><br />I have wondered more in the last few years, than ever in my life, who I was and weather or not God was even listening. And wondering if the God I trusted with my whole heart was seeing me, was caring about my deep hurts and struggles, was a pain that I can't even put into words.<br /><br />I fought Him. I railed at Him...I wept to my husband and closest friend. There was a whole lot of honest and ugly going on.<br /><br />It's exhausting and every step forward has been met with what feels like two steps back. So I retreated into the The Truth that I couldn't feel and read these words:<br />
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<i><span class="chapter-2" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="position: relative;">But now, this is what the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> says—</span></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="position: relative;">he who created<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18507A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></span> you, Jacob,</span></span></i></div>
<span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="position: relative;">he who formed<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18507B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></span> you, Israel:</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; position: relative;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="position: relative;">“Do not fear, for I have redeemed<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18507D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></span> you;</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="position: relative;">I have summoned you by name;<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18507E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></span> you are mine.</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Isa-43-2" id="en-NIV-18508" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; text-align: center; vertical-align: top;">2 </span><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Isa-43-2" id="en-NIV-18508" style="position: relative;">When you pass through the waters,</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-2" style="position: relative;">I will be with you;</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Isa-43-2" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; position: relative;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Isa-43-2" style="position: relative;">and when you pass through the rivers,</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-2" style="position: relative;">they will not sweep over you.</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Isa-43-2" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; position: relative;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Isa-43-2" style="position: relative;">When you walk through the fire,</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-2" style="position: relative;">you will not be burned;</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-2" style="position: relative;">the flames will not set you ablaze.</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Isa-43-3" id="en-NIV-18509" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; text-align: center; vertical-align: top;">3 </span><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Isa-43-3" id="en-NIV-18509" style="position: relative;">For I am the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> your God,</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-3" style="position: relative;">the Holy One<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18509L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></span> of Israel, your Savior;</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Isa-43-3" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; position: relative;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Isa-43-3" style="position: relative;">I give Egypt<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18509N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></span> for your ransom,</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-3" style="position: relative;">Cush<span class="footnote" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-18509a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Isaiah%2043&version=NIV#fen-NIV-18509a" style="color: #b37162; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</span><span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18509O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></span> and Seba<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18509P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)"></span> in your stead.</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Isa-43-4" id="en-NIV-18510" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; text-align: center; vertical-align: top;">4 </span><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Isa-43-4" id="en-NIV-18510" style="position: relative;"><b>Since you are precious and honored<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18510R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></span> in my sight,</b></span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"><b> </b></span><span class="text Isa-43-4" style="position: relative;"><b>and because I love<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-18510S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)"></span> you</b>,</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Isa-43-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; position: relative;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Isa-43-4" style="position: relative;">I will give people in exchange for you,</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; font-style: italic; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-4" style="position: relative;"><i>nations in exchange for your life.</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Isa-43-4" style="position: relative;"><i> Isaiah 43:1-4</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Isa-43-4" style="position: relative;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span></div>
</span><div style="text-align: left;">
So here I am, kind of raw and unsteady...yet assured once again that God has a great and personal *love* for me that defies my understanding and confounds my emotions, but is real and eternal and everlasting.</div>
Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-4308623566764984292013-07-17T22:45:00.003-07:002013-07-17T22:45:42.452-07:00Two Decades? Check!The words won't come easy tonight. Words to mark an amazingly simple day, a day filled with what a lot of other days look like. Errands, meals, kids, diapers, laughing, laundry, yawning... a lot of my regular everydays.<br /><br />Yet, today is so huge. Huge and overwhelming and amazing and precious.<br /><br />Tonight I will crawl in bed, exhausted, next to my very best friend who I have been so blessed to share the last 20 years with.<br /><br />It hardly seems possible that the two <i>children</i> who walked down that aisle so many years ago are the same people raising babies, paying bills, and laughing so hard everyday. I can't believe we have spent more than half my life married.<br /><br />In many ways it seems like just yesterday we made our vows before God and our family and friends...and in others I can see the lifetime we lived.<br /><br />
Through apartments, houses, the birth of five beautiful children, the death of one of those children, the loss of two of our parents, the joyous friendships we've made, the painful partings with some of those same friends. The mentorship of some amazing families, the learning to stand without them... twenty years takes kids to adult and yet leaves me feeling like I still have so much growth left to do.<br /><br />To celebrate my wonderful husband wrote an amazing blog that he shared along with fabulous photos that we had taken by <a href="http://www.staceeliannablog.com/2013/07/alexis-steven-redondo-beach-anniversary-photography/" target="_blank">Stacee Lianna</a>. I can't say anything better than he did.Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-53436241741722045452013-07-15T23:33:00.002-07:002013-07-15T23:33:18.916-07:00Ok, Ok...I'm paying attention.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AJGCEgSNifQ/UeTelyoYUxI/AAAAAAAAAR4/Mw3MSl4dwh0/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AJGCEgSNifQ/UeTelyoYUxI/AAAAAAAAAR4/Mw3MSl4dwh0/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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When this verse came up on the screen in church Sunday morning two things happened simultaneously...My husband turned to me and said "You need to print that on an index card and tape it to your dashboard or something", and I started to sweat.<br /><br />
Truth be told, I wrote the verse address down (Isaiah 43:18-19) without even fully registering what was happening.<br /><br />There have been seasons in my life, events where someone is speaking and I <i>know</i> it is a message meant for me. These words ignited something in me and I spent the next twenty minutes taking notes and waiting for the visiting preacher to invite people to pray...afraid I might leap out of my seat and rush the stage uninvited.<br /><br />Not 18 hours after I wrote my last post, here was a message about destiny, purpose, mandates and assignments. Being not just willing but excited. Knowing that the mundane and ordinary moments are just as, if not more, important than the highlights.<br /><br />I'm excited.<br /><br />I'm dreaming.<br />
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God is preparing me for something. It might be more laundry, more hours toting kids, more time spent supporting some people I love who are fully walking in their dreams. It might have more frustration...and more waiting. It might still be winter...but my spring is coming and I will get to be used by Him to do something new...because it's already begun.Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-61910018762954103192013-07-13T20:06:00.000-07:002013-07-13T20:06:01.254-07:00On DreamsMy oldest daughter is obsessed with re-runs of the show Wife Swap. Obsessed I tell you...and in a the-tv-lives-in-the-living room house, that means I am now watching millions of hours of the show, too. If you are unfamiliar with the plot, I'll break it down for you. The mom from a family that lives life at the very end of one extreme...Like the Fitness BootCamp, Only Organic, Vegan California family...switches with a mom from the other extreme... Like the Southern, Derby Car, Nothing but Fast Food, No Rules family...for two weeks. One week the moms live the lives of the mom they have switched with and the second week they get to change rules. Lots of chaos ensues. Lots of yelling. Kids get annoyed and many judgments are made, and someone usually cries.<br /><br />Quality TV I tell ya.<br /><br />Sometimes when we watch I think it wouldn't be so bad to have another mom come in here and give the place a really good scrub. That's the mom I'd get. The one with schedules and spreadsheets and she would not allow the mountain of laundry I am trying not to see right now.<br />
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She'd probably get the kids rooms pretty clean too. She'd get in there with a trash bag and vacuum and she'd get everything in it's place. Honestly, even if she was judging me in the process, I'd just be excited it's done.<br /><br />My girls' room has hit that critical mass where they may need one of those mom interventions. The last time I did it is actually kind of a life defining day for me. That was the day my good friend Stacee introduced me to <a href="http://www.jonacuff.com/stuffchristianslike/" target="_blank">Stuff Christians Like</a>, and the author I like to pretend is my best friend, J<a href="http://www.jonacuff.com/blog/" target="_blank">on Acuff</a>. :)<br /><br />I laughed hard at the funny quirks in the Christian church that I love so much and I was also amazed at the greater spiritual points he managed to weave in as well...so, of course, I was hooked. SCL became a regular read. Serious Wednesday brought tears to my eyes more than once...and I even called to try and book him to speak at our church!<br /><br />As often happens when you set out chasing your dream, God changed Jon's path a little and he became not "just an author" but a leader. And not a weird cult leader, but a voice to an entire generation of dreamers. He's reminding people everyday to dream...and then to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Quitter-Closing-Between-Your-Dream/dp/0982986270/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1373771031&sr=1-1&keywords=quitter" target="_blank">put some hustle behind those dreams</a>. To sweat, work and own those dreams. And to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Start-Punch-Escape-Average-Matters/dp/1937077594/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1373771091&sr=1-1&keywords=start" target="_blank">Start</a> moving!<br /><br />That passion is contagious and a little scary when you are me. I have been feeling like over and over again, God has been reminding me to dream, To be passionate. To move in my gifts...and yet, I have felt stuck, terrified, empty, alone, and lost.<br /><br />In the weeks since my mother's death, I have been broken in a whole new place and I think God is dusting off some old dreams and possibly unearthing more. I'm to tired of "trying to do it right", and life seems too short to play around. And I honestly feel like the last two or three years I have been stuck in a pit I dug.<br />
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So here I am, stepping out, afraid to dream and filled with hope at the same time.<br /><br />One of the things I most want to do is write again. Even if no one is reading I feel like I know myself so much more when I commit "words to paper".<br /><br />Do you have a dream that terrifies you?Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-3357144775463104362013-06-20T20:19:00.001-07:002013-06-20T20:19:20.698-07:00Too Many GoodbyesIn about 10 minutes my house will be quiet. The kids will be in their beds and my husband is out. It will be too quiet to escape my thoughts...and it will be too quiet to distract me from the fact that my mother is still gone...that she passed quietly Tuesday morning and that the last time I will ever see her is just a memory now.<br /><br />I have spent the last few days on a pre-planned mini road trip that I decided not to miss. It was nice to go, to not think, to step away from the everyday routine that was lacking a daily phone call... to listen to the ocean and feel the wind on my face and try to leave the deep sadness behind.<br /><br />But at night, in the quiet, I can't escape the emptiness that comes with loss.<br /><br />And I know when I wake up, it will still be there.<br /><br />So as much as I am coveting the quiet time tonight, I am also kind of dreading it.Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-72327363203849613332013-01-07T20:32:00.000-08:002013-01-07T20:32:04.903-08:00Let The Adventure BeginIt seems like every blog on the planet has had a New Year's post up this past week, and I guess this one is no exception...although, to be honest, the new year seems like it was *ages* ago.<br /><br />I'm sure I've talked before about how I don't really *do* resolutions, but this year feels so different.<br /><br />There are probably about 8 million reasons why...new creative ventures, son in high school, heading into my "late thirties"...but I think the main reason is because I can see one season in my life is coming to a close...the door is swinging shut on this job of mine and it isn't going to reopen.<br />
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I am mostly okay with that, but it leaves me feeling a little afraid and wondering how it will all go now. Who I will be and where I will walk now.<br /><br />Today, I snuggled a fresh and new baby in my arms and she smiled a big baby grin at me and it reminded me, again, that that season of holding my *own* fresh new babies is over. It's gone....and Zoe is growing and changing so much every day, that soon the crib will come down, and it won't go in the garage...it will go away. With the strollers. With the bouncy seats. Even the diapers...soon they will all be parts of stories about "When mine were small...." The small is fading so fast.<br /><br />And I *love* watching my kids grow. Seeing the maturity in my eldest, the depth of my first girl, the sensitivity of my baby boy and the bucket of sass in Zoe...but with every step, a part of who I was is left behind and I move beyond into something new...that I haven't known for the last 15 years.<br />
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So this year I am looking at becoming something else, reviving a different me...it's exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time.<br /><br />I'm trying to take better care of myself, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.<br />
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This January is a new beginning.<br />
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I imagine it will be messy, and difficult at times, but I also know I will laugh, I will grow, and I will be blessed so I am kind of anxious to get on with it.<br />
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<br />Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-76607560816604893052012-10-10T23:12:00.000-07:002012-10-10T23:12:13.677-07:00Can I just slow time down a little?I'm not sure why the words are stuck. Why they won't flow.<br /><br />I keep starting this post and then erasing it, starting a new thought, erasing it again...<div>
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I think the truth of it is that this post is about my oldest daughter, about to turn twelve in just a few short hours. And that in everyday life I start, erase, change gears with her over and over again.<br /><br />She makes me laugh so hard I am almost crying, pushes me to the point of frustration so I want to start crying, and then makes my heart fill with such love that I often *do* start crying...usually in the space of 14 minutes...or all at once.</div>
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There is no other young lady, because that's what she is...a lady...no longer a little girl, who is so complex and who runs so deep as that sweet one.<br /><br />I have never met an adult, I don't think, with the vast depth and hunger for meaning as her. Who wants to love God so much that it almost overwhelms her. Who thinks, ponders, and holds on to every word poured out on her.<br /><br />Who wants to nurture and love children so much that her idea of a good time can easily be a sleepover with the 5 year old from school who loves to chase after her.<br /><br />I can not fathom our time is so short that I get to call her mine and not release her to the world. Yet I am eager to see where God is leading her and the great things she will do to serve Him.<br /><br />Happy Birthday Phoebelicious...I hope that you know just how much I love, adore, and respect you. Don't grow up too fast, ok?</div>
Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-79167101927212176312012-08-08T01:14:00.002-07:002012-08-08T01:27:07.352-07:00Can't Sleep<span style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: 100%;">I am the worst blogger in the world. I look at my "last post" date and wince...and then I don'</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">t even have the courtesy to post my blogs at a reasonable hour.</span><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">And this post? It's going to be chock full of angsty goodness.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: 100%;">Being a mom is hard. The constant feeding, cleaning, </span>wiping, and sleeplessness of the first year have <span style="font-size: 100%;"> nothing on the years to follow either. I may be more frequently well rested, but then there are nights like tonight where I am sleepless and broken. Where I am pouring out buckets of tears because I know the big bad world is about to try and crush one of my babies...be it the tiny one or the six footer.<br /></span></span><br />Tonight, in the course of just a few hours, I received two emails that held big changes each of my kids. Different sources, different changes, but changes that I know will hurt. Both are out of my control. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't even know how or when to tell them.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I have cried. And prayed...and cried some more.<br /><br />I can't sleep...and now my nose is all stuffy and I can't breathe either.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have to find my strength in a God who was not taken by surprise by this. In a Savior who shed His blood for these kids. I have to remember that it hurts Him, who loves them most, more than it hurts me to see them brokenhearted. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I think my kids have been through entirely too much for their short lives. I catch myself trying to reason with God "wasn't loosing Eden enough?"...and always I hear the whisper, His reminder, that He has a perfect plan for them.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-48644467920728134042012-04-30T23:10:00.001-07:002012-04-30T23:11:10.125-07:00FavoriteAbout 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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 miles...in a 50 year old car!<br />
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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.<br />
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Three days ago, we brought home The Dream.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
<br />Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-86150640857949560342012-04-27T22:21:00.001-07:002012-04-27T22:21:42.179-07:00Happy Birthday to YouSometimes 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.<br /><br />Wife, Stay at Home Mom, Five Kids, little rented house, minivan...doesn't sound like much...but it exceeds my dreams every day.<br />
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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.<br /><br />All this on his birthday.<br /><br />No elaborate dinners, just an average day.<br />
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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.<br /><br />Happy Birthday Steven, I hope you know that this day is a gift for me. <3Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-78514072176273132982012-04-05T08:41:00.003-07:002012-04-05T09:07:58.580-07:00Why I Run<span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">Last week one of my dearest friends updater her facebook status : "what do i want to be when I grow up?"</span></span><br /><br /><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">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.</span></span><br /><br /><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">Yet, she doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up.</span></span><br /><br /><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">She wrote this to me in an email, hopefully I'm not breaking any code sharing it here:</span></span><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128); font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I don’t know what to do with my life.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128); font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "> </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128); font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Is this thing really something God has in the plans for me?</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128); font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "> </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128); font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Or is it just a fun distraction I’ve come up with on my own? </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128); font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "> </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 128); font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span >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?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span >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.<br /><br />So I can't help but think "What's next?"<br /><br />I have no answers. I never do. I am getting a lot better at waiting to see. But I still get restless.<br /><br />So I decided to run.<br /><br />I hate running. I have always said you should only run if you are being chased. Yet, one day, I decided to run.<br /><br />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 before...so it's new and exciting.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span >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.<br /><br />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.</span></div>Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-31817827905228452092012-02-15T21:44:00.000-08:002012-02-15T22:00:55.404-08:00I'm baaackThe last week or so has been a series of small, but significant, "aha!" moments. I feel refreshed in a way I haven't in quite some time...even though I am physically exhausted.<div><br /></div><div>It's almost as if I have been asleep for a while and something in me woke up. It's pretty amazing really.</div><div><br /></div><div>And you know what started it all? Committing to 10 days of corporate prayer with my church, earlier this year. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had not been terribly excited about it. It was a hard commitment, and I wasn't even able to make it each night. Babies are far less interested in mom making it to prayer.<br /><br />Some nights, even while I was there, I felt kind of blah and disconnected. My mind would wander and I'd have to retrain my thoughts back on God. I wasn't really "getting a lot" out of most evenings. I was going, I was participating, and my heart was fully there...and still some nights just ended. I went home and when asked about the evening I'd say they were "good."</div><div><br /></div><div>Through it all though, I was *very* aware that God was moving. In subtle, hard to see, yet still powerful and life changing, ways.<br /><br />Tonight hammered that in for me a bit.</div><div><br /></div><div>I realized tonight while sitting in service, listening to my pastor preach about all being a part of one body, the importance of each piece...I realized that an old familiar hurt, so often aggravated by these types of lessons, was missing. </div><div><br /></div><div>It wasn't whispering "ya, but" s in my ear or pointing to the actions of others. If anything I was reminded of the grace and forgiveness that God and people have shown me, countless times. I saw the billions of acts of love and kindness that have been shown me and my family. </div><div><br /></div><div>Instead of pain there was peace.</div><div><br /></div><div>I can trace the healing to a specific moment in those prayer meetings. Not a big deliberate moment either, just a stirring that something was changing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tonight? I saw the change.</div><div><br /></div><div>Once again, I am awed that such a great big God cares so much about the little things in my small life.</div>Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-50581528723749886272012-02-13T20:43:00.000-08:002012-02-13T20:55:57.313-08:00Blustery NightIt is a wild and windy night tonight. I can hear the wind whistling through the chimney of my tiny gas fireplace.<div><br /></div><div>All the kiddos, including the biggest one of all, my husband, are snuggled in their beds.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am thinking about running.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, running.</div><div><br /></div><div>Just last week I embarked on a little adventure and decided to train to *run* a 5k. I have been known to say that you really shouldn't run unless someone is chasing you, but as I get closer and closer to 40, I want something more active and challenging. I want to set a goal, and do something outside my comfort zone.</div><div><br /></div><div>So today, day two, I went running. Armed with a borrowed iphone and a handy little app, I set out to run. I had been looking forward to this little break in my day. To a little time, on my own, doing something just for me.<br /><br />Then my daughter asked if she could join me. I think I just heard a chorus of exhausted mothers just groan.</div><div><br /></div><div>This? Was not my plan. 30 minutes with the daughter who's emotions have en all over the map lately, while I pushed myself past the point of reasonable breathing did not sound like fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yet, I heard myself agree.</div><div><br /></div><div>So we strapped on our shoes and I strapped on my less selfish attitude and off we went. It was as hard as I expected. It might have been nice to be panting on my own...but the smile on my baby's face as she was included in "my" time, ushered in with no complaints, showed me something much more important.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe my little girl needs to do this as much as I do? For herself. To prove she can. </div><div><br /></div><div>More importantly, maybe she just needs to know she belongs. With me. Her mama.</div>Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-51789802068605167512012-02-12T22:16:00.000-08:002012-02-12T22:38:52.633-08:00Looking backToday was one of those pause and take it in kind of days. Where, for just a second, I can kind of stop and see through the business of every day, silence the constant din, and take one brief moment to reflect, remember, and erect a remembrance stone in my heart.<div><br /></div><div>I was working in the church nursery, a job I used to dread but now find pretty enjoyable, and just chatting with other women. The kids were all in great spirits today and playing pretty well so it was very relaxing and sweet. </div><div><br /></div><div>As women do we covered everything from jeans, to mixers, to obesity, to diapers. </div><div><br /></div><div>We discussed our mothers, the mothers we are or hope to be. The wounds, the triumphs. Life in general.</div><div><br /></div><div>Somewhere in here I had a moment to think on Zoe's birth and the moment she was placed on my chest in the post surgical recovery room.<br /><br />Zoe's pregnancy was filled with reassurances. Every test. Every ultrasound. Every routine appointment. Each and every one was confirmation that she was going to be ok. That she was coming home with us, whole and healthy. That our arms would be filled when we exited the hospital doors. That all of our tears would be tears of gladness (or exhaustion from sleepless weeks). </div><div><br /></div><div>Yet, I don't think I exhaled for those nine months.</div><div><br /></div><div>When she was born, Steven looked at me and whispered "She's perfect." So much in those two words. "God heard our prayers. He's blessed us beyond measure. There won't be heartbreak this time. we can rejoice."<br /><br />The wave of emotion was palpable.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yet still, hearing her precious cry and looking into her little face for the first time...those were nothing compared to that first moment where I could lay her on my chest and just drink her in.</div><div><br /></div><div>Holding God's promise, skin to skin, in the quiet curtained space...I will never forget.</div><div><br /></div><div>Unlike with all the other kids, there was no rush to share her with the world. I was grateful for that enforced time of just us three. I needed to hold her, alone. I needed to silently praise a God who had stood with me in the darkest time in my life, holding me up and giving me strength beyond myself. I needed to embrace her with every piece of my heart, including the parts I couldn't open before I held her.<br /><br />So today, I watcher her walk, and laugh, and eat cherrios by the cupful... and I drank it all in again. My God, who never stopped loving me, though He asked me to walk a painful path, also set my feet here, in this place of much rejoicing.<br /><i><br />Thank you Lord, for every gift you have given me...and those things that brought me anguish, that you allowed to open up such deep places of joyfulness. Thank you...a million times, Thank you.</i></div><div><br /></div>Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-84920208161419285272012-02-11T22:39:00.000-08:002012-02-11T22:43:14.538-08:00My Dear Readers,<div><br /></div><div>When Saturday comes. I wake up and always think there will be time for a great post...but there never is.<br /><br />I think I may have to rethink a 7 day a week blog, and stick to Monday-Friday. </div><div><br /></div><div>In any case, I pray you are blessed and that this weekend you will laugh from the deepest place in your heart and that you will feel God's incredible love.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you for your understanding,</div><div><3</div>Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5756744954182541859.post-18671561569774241982012-02-10T23:15:00.000-08:002012-02-10T23:30:26.524-08:00staticI keep staring at this screen, starting a post, backspacing.<br /><br /><div>Coming up with something interesting to say for 10 days straight I hard! Some days, like today, my brain simply shuts off as soon as the last kid has run out of reasons to prolong going to bed. Those days I sit on the couch and watch some truly mindless tv. The computer is too much effort. The toys stay where ever they landed. And I just sit.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tonight was one of those nights. The day was wonderful and filled with special moments like a visit with a new friend and her sweet baby, but after adding in a new sport and some frantic running from point a to point b, I was spent.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had a terse conversation that turned into a beautiful, but emotionally exhausting one, with my daughter *and* my husband.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I have just been sitting.</div><div><br /></div><div>Everything I think to write about seems forced, because the only real thing I can think of, is how desperately I want a pedicure.<br /><br />I tried to write about the beautiful truths I found in Proverbs today...but they just sounded flat.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could try and pick up on the Joy Dare again...but I kind of got lost there. I often felt like I was just not connecting to the questions...and that's ok.</div><div><br /></div><div>So tonight I will just leave you with this simple truth...No matter how hard and exhausting life gets, I am grateful everyday that I have been given the chance to live it. Especially the life God has blessed me with.</div>Alexishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07346705798623879197noreply@blogger.com0