A Welcome Guest, Amy Dardis

I hate feeling disconnected from God.  And yet, there are seasons in my life, where I just allow myself to get distracted. Sometimes it’s because of sickness, sometimes it’s that I get so busy and burnt out, other times its exhaustion, and sometimes it’s just hormones. It’s something that happens gradually. I will be walking closely with God, seeking Him in everything, and then slowly after a few weeks or months, I notice the change. I become more irritable, easily frustrated, distracted, and feel lost. I get that feeling like my life isn’t moving forward and I just don’t know how to get out of my rut.

To read more from Amy, visit Haven Journal, here.


And Amy…one more time

OK, I really wanted to share stories from a variety of my sister sites, but Haven just took it away this time. Enjoy another one from Amy: Less is More


This is something that is only slowly dawning on me, but as it does, my joy is doubling everyday! I pray that you can learn from my story and Amy’s story, in time to rescue your story or your child’s story and live more of your life in GREAT JOY!

Meet Amy

bebeautiful_07d71b081eef229c27bd9b4970d6677eGuess where I am this week? Well, starting tomorrow (Tuesday), I’ll be in Texas with my sisters celebrating Henry’s pending birth! Rachelle, my youngest sister, whose diapers I once changed, whom I nicknamed Sunshine, who a few people when we were kids thought was my own daughter with our 10 year age difference, who will be one of the most spectacular moms in the whole world…is due on June 20. So we’re throwing a party. (:

Since I’ll be far too busy, and too giddy, to string three words together next week, let alone three sentences or a blog post, I’m going to share with you wonderful pieces by good friends of mine. I hope you enjoy their stories and visit their websites. You will be blessed.

See you soon~

Weighing yourself is a mind game that the only way to win is to just not play. I guarantee you will feel so much better about your self if you toss the scale. It won’t solve every insecurity and struggle, but it is a step in the right direction. Let’s start focusing on the things that matter.

Life Without the Scale, by Amy Dardis

Reminds me of this post: No More Strip Search

Blind to Beautiful

This morning, walking my dog down Sydenstriker, I watched a little girl learn to use a white-tipped cane. Nine-thirty in the morning, most of her friends were in the school building she practiced in front of. An older lady stood protectively between her and the street, holding her own white-tipped cane.

Like metronomes in perfect sync, their canes scanned the sidewalk 10 inches before out of sightthem. The little girl had wild brown hair. Her profile was slight, a little beanpole dressed in a hot pink t-shirt and blue jeans. With her left hand she clung to the older woman’s shirt sleeve.

I passed them in seconds and just as quickly they passed through my thoughts and into catalogued, insignificant memory. Until this afternoon.

My husband and I sped along Braddock Road, grumbling as the golden, spring sun gave way to April showers. I was thinking about my yoga practice this morning, how I feel different, more whole after yoga than after other workouts. I like that feeling of knowing I’m alive, feeling graceful, collected and yet free at the same time. But I wondered, did I work out hard enough? I don’t feel especially fatigued or sore like I do after other workouts. Did I do enough?

These fears harken back to 15 years of pushing all my physical limits: Too little food, too much exercise. I did it all in pursuit of a goal – to look beautiful, to look competent, to look powerful, to look in control.

Recently, I read an article by one of my favorite people, Amy Dardis, referencing another of my favorite people, Esse Johnson. She spoke of knowing her body. My thoughts skipped.  How do I know my body? I do know that it can hear and feel and taste and see and touch and smell and walk and sleep and love and care and hurt and bleed and write and cook and listen and…

So why am I so much more worried about what I see than all the other things that my body is and does? Would I dare tell that little girl that she is missing the essential gift of life because she cannot see whether she is thin or beautiful or young or old?

What would happen if I didn’t worry so much about what I look like and instead, learned to focus on what I sound like, feel like, smell like? Beauty can be expressed those ways too.

Do I speak gently and joyfully, encouraging others and laughing at the lighter things and praying for the harder things?
Do I smell fresh and delicious to my husband?
Do I feel strong and capable?
Do my hands feel comforting to mourners?
Does my voice sound like praise?
I never smell Amber Romance, or Santa Fe perfume without melting into sweet thoughts of my mother.
I can’t contain the joy in my heart when I hear my niece tell me that a duck says, “Kack, kack”.

So why is what I look like so much more significant to me that all the other aspect of who I am? I wonder.