18/52 :: summer.

I've always had a love-hate relationship with summer. 

For one, I was a child who thrived on routine. School was my happy place. I loved home, too, don't get me wrong, but stick me at a desk for seven hours, hands clasped, learning from the books and teachers I adored? The definition of contentment. 

Summers can be rough. In the South, summers mean heat and humidity, air as thick as the sweet tea we drink. (And I don't like sweet tea, so you can see how I'd be at a disadvantage.) For a Florida girl, I'm also rather pale, hair bordering on a shade of red. Suntans aren't really a "thing" for me, and sunglasses pose a special difficulty for someone who's nearsighted. I was well into adulthood before I learned to just retire all denim for the entire season; jeans stick to sweaty legs, causing a unique sense of claustrophobia. Ask me to rank the seasons, and I would easily put summer at the bottom of the pack. 

But now I work retail. 

Autumn -- my favorite of all the seasons -- is now bustling, filled to the brim with activity. My own personal calendar virtually ends at October, when the store's calendar takes over. There is our town's One Book program, plus Black Friday and Small Business Saturday and Christmas shopping that starts after Halloween. I've had to kindly and gently explain to friends and family: If you love me, you will stop asking me to do anything from November 1 to December 31. My life no longer exists. 

So sure, fall has the cute clothes and the cooler temperatures, but it's a rough season for me personally. Perhaps this change has softened my heart to sweet summertime, because for the past two years? I have been all in. 

Give me all the shorts, tank tops, and baseball caps. Give me no make-up and put lemon juice in my hair. Take me to the coast; give me a large Coke in a styrofoam cup with crushed ice and a straw -- you know, the kind you can get for $.75 at a gas station. I want ice cream in all the flavors, and daylight until the sun's practically ready to come up again. Drive me somewhere with the windows rolled down and the radio blaring. (I'm oddly in the mood for country music.) Take me to a baseball game and dress me in red, white, and blue. Stick an American flag in my hand and feed me a hot dog. Sit on the front porch and shoot the breeze, even when there's no breeze to be found. 

In June, the store slows down, and people in Thomasville treat summer as if it's a verb, so Jordan and I practically have the city to ourselves. I kind of like it, and I think all of this makes it official: I love summer. 

Sure, when August rolls around I'll probably be in the middle of a heat stroke of some kind, but for now? I'm on board with this whole summertime thing. I get it now. 

Here, then, in the spirit of the new season is a little list of goals I've made for the next couple of months. A summer bucket list, of sorts. I'm keeping it simple, as the season requires: 

01. Take a day trip to the beach. 

02. Celebrate fourth of July with friends. 

03. Grill out. 

04. Sit on the swing with Jordan. 

05. Redo photo wall. 

06. Organize vacation photo albums

07. Complete a puzzle. 

08. Binge watch a new-to-us show. 

09. Save money for Taylor Swift tickets. 

10. Find a new, quick getaway spot. 

Happy summertime, friends. Let's make it a good one.

2/52 :: nurture.

We spend a lot of time in our home talking about personality types -- our MBTI results, what they mean and how they make us better (or worse). 

As an INTJ, I am a big believer is knowing yourself well, and as I've become better and better at being a business owner, I've become worse and worse at taking care of myself. I am so good at seeing the bigger picture, but I often fail at recognizing the details. In our house, we call those details "S-tasks," a reference to the MBTI letter missing from both of our personality types. 

If you're familiar with the Myers-Briggs, you know that the N and the S stand for intuition and sensing, respectively. I think there's often a lot of confusion as to what those letters really mean, but basically, it boils down to whether you're a big picture person or a detail-oriented person. In our home, we are big picture people. We sit and read and watch movies and talk about theology and brainstorm about our future plans. We do not frequently clean the baseboards, and our refrigerator tends to house a lot of expired food.

We know these truths about ourselves, and we are trying harder to become better. We will always be big picture, deep-thinking people -- it's in our nature, and it's not going away. (And I am more than okay with it.) But as we nearer the 30 mark, we're realizing there are some things we need to change. 

The good news is, we are beings created to change, so entering 2015, I am neither daunted nor scared.

I simply need to take better care of myself. 

In all of the household details I tend to ignore, I ignore my own details the most. I let my prescriptions sit at the pharmacy for days; books go unread on my nightstand. I miss doctor's appointments and visits with friends. I work until my back aches and my brain feels fuzzy, until I find myself crying in the shower with sore feet and a sleepy head. 

2014 was a wonderful year for me and for Jordan. The business did incredibly well, and I became a lot better at running the shop. There is so much room for improvement, but I admit I'm breathing a little easier as we enter 2015. I'm hopeful by reaching a point of confidence and comfort in the business (which I know might wane at any moment; bookselling is not a stable industry by any means), I might be more capable of taking care of myself.

My word for the year is nurture. It stems from this idea of self-care, from reaching for my own oxygen mask before I help put on anyone else's.

 

And it won't be easy, not for me. I think self-care is tough for a lot of women, but it's tough mostly because women tend to take care of others first -- children, husbands, parents. That rings partially true for me, but the reality is self-care is tough for me because I tend to not think about it. 

 

My brain is wired for books and imagination and dreaming and scheming and goal-setting. I am wired for tackling tasks, for getting things done, no matter the cost. 

Self-care is difficult because it's often not even on my radar screen. 

That changes this year. If I ever hope to be a parent one day, I think I have to learn to take care of myself first, though I don't anticipate perfecting it before a little one comes along. I think I have to learn to say no so that I can ultimately say yes, a lesson years in the learning. I have to make time for Epsom salt baths and cleaning my house and buying fresh flowers and dressing up for date night. I have to remember to meal plan and take walks and clear my head. I have to read books not just because a customer asks me to, but because I want to. I have to write and watch Friends reruns and curl up on the couch on a rainy day. I have to make doctors' appointments and clean hair out of the tub and remember to do the laundry. I've got to do a better job at the "S tasks" in my life so my brain has space to focus on the "N tasks" I love. 

I've been choosing a word for the year since 2010, and every year, my word surprises me with its accuracy, with the ways in which my goals are kept and met throughout the year, according to my word.

Last year, I attempted to restore balance in my life after taking on ownership of the bookstore. I quickly learned striking a balance would mean growing comfortable in the seasons of the shop: a slow, quiet winter; a busy, growing spring; a hot, lengthy summer; and a hectic, harried fall. I had to relearn the seasons; I had to realize we couldn't vacation anytime between October and December, that rarely would I have a day off or a chance to breathe in that last quarter of the year. And while that's a tough truth to swallow, the moment I recognized it as truth was the moment I could move on and decide: We'd take vacations in the first half of the year. In January, when the store is achingly slow, I can rest. I can spend time at home without fear the store is going to fall apart or books are going to fall of the shelves.

It's a simple lesson, but, if we own the store for any lengthy period of time, it's an important one, and finding that balance last year is already helping me in 2015.

Already this year, I've taken the time to write my thoughts in this space, something I rarely made time for last year. I'm trying to establish a journaling habit every morning and evening, and today, I took down the Christmas tree and filled my house with cheerful accents to remind me of my upcoming birthday. Instead of spending my Monday checking emails and running errands and posting receipts, I cleaned my house. I watched Friends. I listened to a podcast. I sat on the couch.

These are, in their own way, miraculous things, and I will accept them for the joy that they are. This year, I will nurture my faith and my creativity and my community and my marriage, and will do so knowing I might make some missteps, but I'll learn some valuable truths about myself along the way. 

a little word for 2014.

{image from Design Love Fest} 

I've been picking a word for the year for the past few years. It's not for everyone, but I am a girl who loves resolutions. Goal-setting is my jam. I love when the calendar turns a new page. I get a fresh new start to play with, a new year to call my own. Picking a word for the year is just another way for me to enter in a new phase of life, a way to welcome in a new beginning. 

Last year, my word was choose. Not a day went by that I didn't regret that stupid word. Every day of my life in 2013 required a choice, hard choices. I was reminded of that word with every contract I signed, every business risk I took. I picked choose because I wanted to be reminded that I could do hard things; I wanted to mature and come into my own. I did those things, but it was painful and tricky, and quite frankly, I need a different kind of year this year. 

My parents begged me to pick peace or calm, and I understood. I think either one of those words would have worked for 2014, but I think ultimately I would have been disappointed. I'm not sure we're meant to have calm in 2014, not when the previous year ends with a new business and the the new year starts with a new house. That doesn't speak calm to me. 

Instead, this year needs to have a little more home. I embraced work with open arms last year, and I'm glad. It was a year for big dreams and bigger adjustments. Work deserved its place of prominence, but my other priorities got a bit out of sorts. I'm afraid the business owned me a little last year, and I need that to change if Jordan and I want to own The Bookshelf for the long term. 

My word for 2014, then, isn't particularly exciting or earth-shattering. It comes with lower expectations, and it won't really look that awesome on a necklace. It's a little boring, and it won't resonate with everyone I know. 

This year, I need balance. 

It's the right word. I breathe a sigh of relief just typing it, speaking it out loud. It's not particularly adventuresome or ground-breaking, but it's what I need to get my life back on track after a roller coaster year. And I know, too, sometimes balance won't be possible. Some seasons will require intense emphasis on one thing or another, and my life will be a little off-kilter again. That's okay. Each season will have its own purpose and pattern. Overall, though, I want balance. I want a home of peace and calm, of happy and bright. I want work to go back -- at least in part -- to being work. I want my spiritual walk to bring me the joy it did before. I want my priorities to be fixed and renewed. I want balance.

In light of this word and the purpose behind it, I've got five goals I'll be focusing on in 2014. I tried a little something different with my goals this year. Jordan got me Lara Casey's Power Sheets for Christmas (he gets me), and I've been poring over them for the past few weeks, picking them up when I had a minute, trying to put 2013 quietly away and welcome 2014 with open arms. I'd highly recommend Lara's goal-setting method, if just as a way to center yourself every few months. Using her tools, I came up with these five goals. 

ONE

I want to establish morning and evening routines that help create peace in our home. I want our home to be a refuge at the start and close of each day. I want true rest. 

TWO

I want to create boundaries in work this year; I want to remember that this dream job is still a job -- it is not the end all, be all of my existence.

THREE

I want us to find our place in Thomasville and at The Bookshelf. I want us to create community while being ourselves; I want to embrace new starts and build friendships. 

FOUR

I want to dwell in gratitude and stay connected with those I love far away. I want to build relationships near and far and be Jesus to the people I interact with and work with. 

FIVE

I want to make time for adventures with Jordan. I want to adjust to new work schedules and find time for travel and true rest. 

---

There may be more for me to say about these goals in the weeks to come, but this is my starting point. I've got action steps written out to make each goal happen, but basically, I want a different-looking, joy-filled 2014. I want to embrace The Bookshelf, but I also really missed spending time in our home last year. I missed visiting faraway friends, missed traveling with Jordan. I'm tired of missing things. And the missing of things made me a tad bitter about a job that's supposed to be a dream. 

So it's time for a change. It's time for balance. 

2014, I'm coming for you. Get ready. 

a little ode to November.

The world's just spinning / A little too fast / If things don't slow down soon / We might not last. / So just for the moment, let's be still.

- The Head and the Heart, "Let's Be Still"

---

The internet was overflowing with love letters to October, and I feel like November's kind of getting the shaft. Maybe it's Christmas sneaking into fall. Maybe it's cooler temperatures and leaves blowing off the trees in overwhelming numbers. 

Here's the thing about living in the South: Autumn hits it stride here in November. The temperatures genuinely start dropping, and the leaves start changing their colors. Fall takes so long to reach my little corner of the world, and it goes by fast. It always goes so fast. But... there's November. With its short, dark days and its cozy, cold nights. 

We got married in November. I prayed and prayed for pretty weather on our wedding day. I wanted it to be exactly how I remembered my Florida Novembers: clear, blue sky; slight breeze; leaves on the ground, but still clinging to the trees. 

And it was. It really was.

I think that's part of the reason I love November so much. It reminds me of our wedding day, of the start to this grand adventure called marriage. It's full of gratitude and family, two things I happen to love and need a whole lot. Jordan's birthday is in November, and Thanksgiving -- a low-maintenance holiday designed specifically around food and generosity -- wraps it all up at the end. I think a lot of people, mostly thanks to geography, say goodbye to autumn as October winds down. 

So is it fun to go to pumpkin patches in shorts and flip-flops? And is it hard to watch those pumpkins melt and rot in the still-summertime sun? Does it seem unfair to have to bypass apple cider because it simply doesn't match the temperature outside. 

You bet.  

But we get rewarded for our patience in November. In November, we dim the lights and celebrate Candletime. We sit by the proverbial fire, read more books. I craft a little. I wear socks. We watch a little bit less television. We use -- and need! -- blankets. I pull out the crockpot, and dinner is magically ready when we get home. We breathe deeper, easier, and our walks around the neighborhood actually require our jackets, a scarf if we're lucky.

I'm not a poet. But if I was, if I had the power to leak words onto paper and speak imagery into your imagination, I'd wax neverending about November. I used to blog a lot about what was saving my life. It's a habit I'm sorry I somehow lost, but know this: October was all about awakening. And now November is continuing to save my life. 

* Also saving my life? The new The Head and the Heart CD. You want it; trust me.

in which fairhope wakes me up.

"I was born in February, but I come alive in October. A hazelnut. A filbert. October, baptize me with leaves! Swaddle me in corduroy and nurse me with split pea soup. October, tuck tiny candy bars in my pockets and carve my smile into a thousand pumpkins. O autumn! O teakettle! O grace!"

- Rainbow Rowell, Attachments

---

I'm always a better person after a vacation. 

Yesterday's post was actually written Friday, before Jordan and I left for Fairhope, Alabama, this past weekend for an obviously much-needed getaway. It was only four hours away, but it might as well have been across the country for the good it did me. We stayed in a bed and breakfast right by the bay. We took long walks. I finished two books. (Longbourn and Attachments, for those so inclined.) We sat outside and watched the sunset. We ate pizza and drove backroads and took naps and watched Tom Hanks outdo himself in Captain Phillips. 

It was just what I needed. 

We always travel so well together, Jordan and I. Our time together away from home gives us a chance to reevaluate, to make plans, to talk about past, present, and future. We did a lot of that this weekend, and it wasn't stressful or overwhelming or tiresome. It was good. Our talks gave me renewed energy for the next few months, gave me purpose for this, my favorite season. 

I don't want to waste autumn with stress and heartbreak and hurt. (Even though those things exist and, as far as I can tell, will keep existing.) Instead, I want to remember that fall is a gift. Change -- no matter how hard -- is a gift. And so, for the next few months, some goals, some purpose, to fully experience this season I love so much. 

1. Call Fidelity and tour homes. We've been putting off some of this house stuff, because -- let's be honest -- buying a new house is stressful, especially if you've never done it before. This weekend, we made a plan for going through the process slowly. Our end game? Moving to Thomasville sometime in early 2014. I like this plan. I am comfortable and happy with this plan.

2. Make plans with friends. I've worked so hard at the store this year that I've forgotten this truth: Owning a store is still just a job. It does not have to become my life. It does not have to own me, but I think I've let it a little bit. I'd like to spend the next few months cultivating the friendships we do have in town -- nothing major. Just movies and dinners out, little things to remind us we still have community here; it's just smaller than before.

3. Watch scary movies, then movies I love. We always watch suspenseful movies during the month of October to get us in the spirit of the season; we're starting this week -- hooray! I've also got plans to watch You've Got Mail, When Harry Met Sally, and Dan in Real Life, three of my favorite fall films.

4. Cook a new recipe for Thanksgiving. My copy of Country Living magazine came last week, and it included some pretty delicious-looking recipes for a Thanksgiving feast. Maybe I'll feel like throwing a Friendsgiving this year (wouldn't that be something?), but even if I don't, we're spending Thanksgiving in town with my family, which means more time to test recipes and try something new. I can't wait!

5.  Send cards to friends. Last week, one of my dearest friends gave me some lovely advice. Any time I start to feel lonely or long for my long-distance friends, I need to communicate: send a text, write a letter, mail a package, leave a voicemail. I need to connect. I need to remind myself I have community, they just might not all live right here, right now. I love this idea, and I'm already thinking about making it a new year's resolution come 2014. 

6. Go to exercise class. This is a tough one; we'll see if I'm brave enough to follow through. A new studio opened up near our house, and it offers a free class on Sunday afternoons. I'm a little chicken to go alone, but maybe it's worth a shot? 

7. Eat at home three to four nights a week. 

8. Read two books a month. 

9. No technology past 11. We've been spending a lot of time on our phones, watching Netflix, browsing the Internet. I'd love to have a "no technology past 10" rule, but let's face it: Scandal comes on at 10 on Thursdays, so that's not happening. I thought 11 would be more practical, but really, the goal is simply to get to bed a little earlier, to shut down earlier in the evening and get a bit more rest. The days are shorter, so I think this should be easy.

10. Walk. Earlier this year, I was walking every day, and we spent a great deal of September walking in the evenings. Walking is so, so good for me, for my emotional and physical well being. We live in a such a great neighborhood right now, perfect for walking long and short routes. I'd like us to walk a little each evening, to spend some time outside in the fall air. 

So there you have it. I'm not sure how many of these I'll actually accomplish, but you know what? I feel good about it. Really good. I love setting (and keeping!) goals, and I love having a plan to follow for the next few months. I know running a retail shop during the holidays will be tough, stressful. But it's still just a job, and there's so much more to life than that. 

Cheers, then, to October. To vacations. To fresh starts. To waking up. 

i think i grew up a little.

{photo by Red Balloon Photography}

Last year, I made a list of 10 things I wanted to accomplish while I was 26. 

Rent a house. 

We now live in a lovely little home in a wonderful neighborhood in my favorite part of town.

Throw Jordan a birthday party. 

We had dinner with friends and went to see Wreck-It Ralph in 3D. Jordan declared it one of his best birthdays ever.

Run/jog a 5k. 

We went to Atlanta for The Color Run, and I jogged the whole thing.

Give up shopping for Lent. 

I chose to drink only water during the 40 days of Lent, but I'm thinking about making this my sacrifice for 2013. I think it might do me more good this year than it would have last year. I'll keep you posted. 

Go see my first midnight showing of a movie.

I went with my book club to see The Hunger Games at midnight. It was ridiculously fun. 

Find a drink I like enough to not feel awkward at cocktail parties and networking functions. 

I like mimosas, and I've decided I can ask for Sprite or Coke at networking functions and receive little to no flak. I don't like alcohol. The end.

Finish Anna Karenina. 

Find a new church home. 

Jordan and I attend the same church, but my attitude changed. A move might be in our future, but for now, we are happy. I consider this more important than the actual act of change.

See the west coast. 

We went to San Francisco, and it was everything I wanted it to be. 

Go on a spiritual retreat.

I didn't go on a spiritual retreat -- though I have one tentatively set for this April -- but I did become more quiet, and I did a lot of saying no. 

--

I feel good about 26. I do. Seven out of 10 met goals is pretty good, and for me, goal-setting is never about winning or beating myself up. It's about how I've grown and changed. I look at 26, and I realize: This was a good year. I did so much growing up, made so many decisions I think I'll look back on with gratitude. I embarked on this adventure of a job; I prayed; I turned down money; I moved; I loved my husband.

No one really tells you how hard growing up can be; we are privileged now to have infinite choices, different paths, but the freedom can be daunting and scary.

This year, I -- together with Jordan -- made some tough decisions, set some important boundaries. I wasn't always graceful in that decision-making and boundary-setting, but I'm a better person now, I think, than I was then. The growing up process might be painful, but like the refiner's fire I grew up hearing about in Bible class, I think we come out on the other side better for it.

I'm not done, by the way. Not even close. I hope I'm never done learning and growing and discovering. I want to always be able to say I am better this year than I was last year. I don't know if that's possible, but I'd like to try.

Tomorrow, I turn 27. I love birthdays, love growing a little older and a little wiser. I love celebrating, and I intend to do a lot of it this month. I am so incredibly grateful for 26; it's one of those rare years I can see the change that took place; nothing subtle happened. It was all big and noticeable and dramatic, and I am glad. Every so often we need to be able to see how we've changed, to measure it so we can know it happened.

I know 26 held so many big things, and that makes me very happy, very ready, for 27.

2013: choose.

{print by Tanamachi Studio}

It took me a while to settle on a word for this year, on the resolutions and goals that would guide my footsteps in 2013, and now that I have, I'm finding myself challenged in all kinds of ways, as if the universe is taunting me, daring me to prove I can accomplish what I set out to do. 

Consider this your warning, then, universe: It's on. 

This year's word is choose, for all kinds of reasons, though like last year's word -- awaken -- I expect it will morph and change into something completely different from what I originally intended. That's okay. To be expected, even. I look back at 2012, and I see how my soul was awakened and changed in ways I never anticipated when I wrote out my expectations for the year. This year will be no different, I'm sure. 

For now, though, here's what I'm hoping 2013 holds, in the form of some basic goals and resolutions set with my word in mind. 

Choose health. 

- Pack my lunches the night before. Did I mention the bookstore is in a cupcake shop? Two doors down from Whataburger? I've become a fast food junkie, and I'm not proud of it. It's time to change, not for my weight's sake, but for my health's sake. I want to get in the habit of packing my lunch the night before, since I'm terrible about remembering to do it in the morning when I get up. 

- Drink water. I'm not planning on giving up soda completely, but I'd like to drink water as much as possible, and more often. 

- Walk or jog a mile a day from now until my birthday. I've got high hopes of incorporating Jazzercise into my life (seriously), but until I can pay for my weekly class, I'd like to at least walk around my neighborhood, maybe even eventually build up to jogging. I'm not the world's most consistent exercise-er, so just getting into the habit of strapping on my tennis shoes and getting out the door would be a huge accomplishment. I'd love to see a new habit like this encourage me to get outside and in nature more, and I'm hopeful if I do this until February 2, I'll want to continue something similar for the rest of the year.

Choose creativity. 

- Blog three times a week. I think I have a new plan for this little blog of mine, but while I get some things down on paper, I'd like to at least write here three times a week. I've missed this hobby so much, and I've got so many words I'm ready to let the world see. Three times a week seems like a doable goal, and I think having a schedule of sorts will help someone like me who relies on to-do lists and checkmarks. 

- Journal/draw. I don't want my only creative outlet to be blogging -- especially since my new schedule makes it tough to write daily posts. I'd like to keep a journal filled with Scripture, quotes, highlights of my day... anything to get me in the habit of recording my life again.

Choose light. 
- Join She Reads Truth. I'm not doing BSF this year due to my new schedule, and although I miss it, I'm relieved to not have yet another thing to do during the week. As a result, though, I'm struggling to find time to read Scripture and prayers, and although I'm not committing to joining the She Reads Truth community regularly, I think it's a nice place to start. Jordan's also doing the daily hours, so I may join him in that endeavor as well.

- Share thoughts of gratitude. I'm blatantly copying this idea from Sarah at Pink of Perfection, but every day this year, I'm planning to text my cousin three specific things I'm grateful for on that given day; she, in turn, plans to do the same to me. We started last night, and -- after a particularly challenging evening -- it was the absolute perfect way to end my day. I think this could be one of my favorite habits if I make it stick.

So that's the plan. I'm giving myself some leniency this year, and I'm also considering focusing on one of these "choices" every fourth month or so. In other words, I plan to spend the first third of the year really focused on my health, the second third on creativity, and the final third on light. That should help these goals feel more doable and less overwhelming.

A lot of people, I think, struggle with New Year's resolutions, treating them like absolute bunk or setting lofty goals they'll never achieve. I love this time of year, though. I love thinking about the past and dreaming about the future and what it holds. Goal-setting inspires me, and generally, I wind up accomplishing a lot of the goals I set. (I'm five for seven on my 2012 resolutions.)

This year, I know I'll be faced with a lot of choices. It's only January 2, and I've already had to make tough decisions in my relationships and in order to achieve the goals I've set. I think, though, if I focus on choosing health, choosing creativity, and choosing light, 2013 will be exactly the year I long for: one in which I grow and change more and more into the person I'd like to one day be.

thank you, 2012.

{photo by Alexander Shahmiri}

I am a girl who loves new beginnings and fresh starts, so I've been thinking about 2013 since Thanksgiving, planning and plotting our steps for the new year and my goals for another season. Still, it doesn't seem right to ring in the new year without properly saying goodbye to the old one. 

This time last year, my grandmother was in the hospital and ultimately transferred to hospice care. My family spent our final days of 2011 mourning and grieving and holding each other close. In January, Mama let go of this life and greeted the next, whatever that means and wherever that is. Not many days exist in which I don't think of her; I'll be standing behind the register, and a woman will walk in arm and arm with her elderly mother, and I'll be moved to tears, thinking about my mother and her sisters, about my grandmother and the name I share. 2012 started so differently from any other of my years previous, and yet the grief and the heartbreak led to change and forgiveness and letting go and moving on. My grandmother's death reminded me of my purpose and turned my attention back to things and people I had forgotten. I drew close to family, and I let go of myself, of hurts and frustrations that had held me stagnant for too long. 

As winter gave way to spring, we roadtripped to Atlanta, and I ran a 5K. We loved Jazz Fest like we've come to do every year, and we visited Disney World with friends. 

We had so much fun in those springtime months, but I can't document March, April, and May without acknowledging they were hard months, too. I didn't write about it much, but in April, I struggled through a severe bout of adult acne. I hate those words -- hate even giving them recognition in a year that gave me so much more -- but I want to look back and remember that though those months felt long and painful, I survived. I cried myself to sleep more than once and refused to have my picture taken. I hated looking in the mirror, then felt plagued by guilt over my silly pride and vanity. And you know, I didn't learn a lot about inner beauty. Those words didn't comfort me then, and they don't really now. But I did learn that not everything is a gift. And I know famous theologians and creative Christian writers might beg to differ, but what gave me so much comfort during those months was knowing: God didn't give me that acne. Not out of punishment, not out of love, not out of some divine plan to beautify me on the inside. And after doctor visits and medication and more concealer than I hope to ever wear again, it slowly began to go away, and I -- my body and soul -- began to heal. I want to write about it now, because I don't want to forget how hurtful those weeks were and how absolutely little and human I felt. I hope it never, ever happens again, but in case it does -- in case one day I again feel small and insignificant and yes, ugly -- I want to remember three things: 

I survived. 

My husband told me I was beautiful every day. 

I am so much more than my face. 

This summer, after a springtime of busyness and stress, I took a break from saying yes. Jordan took a trip to Venezuela, and we rented a house. God answered the cry of my heart and gave me a new job which has stretched and pulled me in ways I never quite anticipated. He looked down on me with favor and gave me something I didn't even know I wanted, didn't even know I could have. Jordan and I traveled to San Francisco and relished our time together. We created purposeful Sundays and established Monday night yard drinks. I spent time with girlfriends, and we made new friends we think will last for a lifetime. 

I look back on this year, and it held so very much: Bible Study Fellowship. Chicago and Seaside. Nashville and Atlanta. Disney and Jazz Fest. Weddings and funerals. "Just say no" June and an August filled with life-changing yeses. I learned to take food to those who need it and to weep and rejoice with those who are weeping and rejoicing. I remembered money can't buy happiness, which is good since we have way less than we used to. I became even more grateful for my husband, for my friends, and for my family. I opened our home and closed chapters to our life. 

2012 was a roller coaster ride, but I wouldn't trade it. I honestly believe this year -- one filled with the awakening of my mind and soul, just like I wanted it to be -- made me so much stronger. 

As Jordan was evaluating his 2012 goals and resolutions, he lamented that he hadn't done as well as he'd expected. He'd left more goals unmet than accomplished, and you know what I think? You know what I said? 

Each year brings us more than we could ever anticipate. It's filled to the brim with nothing like what we expected. It's miraculous to come out on the other side with any of our original goals accomplished at all. We're made to bend and move, to roll with the punches and adapt to the curve balls. Our goals aren't always as flexible, and that's okay. 

It's December 31, and I can safely look back and say, this was a year like no other. I don't want to relive it, but I don't want to forget it either. I want to remember the good and the bad, and I want those memories to guide me in 2013. 

Thanks, 2012. I mean it with all of my heart. 

august goals.

{photo via Garance Dore}

August, you guys. What on earth is happening with the time? Does it have to do with aging? When I'm 50, will years pass like seconds on the clock? Seriously, what is going on, and why does 2012 feel like it just began, only to end in the blink of an eye?

My July goals got a little shafted, I think, mostly because of the move and the mission trip. I'm sure I'll look back on July 2012 as the month I could have lost my mind, but didn't, thanks, in part to June and all the no-saying I did. Hallelujah for the nos.

An evaluation, then, of July goals:

Swim in the pool/visit the beach. Nope. Didn't happen, not even once, and I'm not happy about it.

Read three books. I read two, but finished a third by August 2, so I'm going to count this one as done. Reviews headed your way later this week.

Get organized. Done to coincide with the move. I've got a lot of thoughts on the mounds of stuff that had piled up in our previous home -- most of them angry and unhappy -- but if one good thing came from the discovery of our hoard-ish tendencies, it's that we got rid of things and cleaned up others. I think we're off to a good start in our new home, which is a success, I think. 

Pack.  Done, and don't think I'm going to let Jordan forget anytime soon I did most of it alone. (Okay, not alone. Moving takes a village, and mine includes a spectacular family and some very generous and kind friends.) So thrilled this one is all said and done.

Give careful yeses. I actually accomplished this one, perhaps mostly because my schedule simply didn't allow for a lot of yeses. I tried to be careful to evaluate what I really was capable of in light of the move, and anything I did say yes to, I did because I wanted to.

And now August's goals:

01. Settle in.

I'm sure you'll find this shocking, but I don't handle chaos well. I don't like boxes milling around, and I don't like a house without pictures hanging on the wall. Our new home already looks pretty lived-in, thanks to my aforementioned village of friends and family, but I'd like to use August for me and Jordan to settle down and continue to make our house a home. I want to empty the last of the boxes and put things in their proper place. Also? I'd like to sit on the couch and enjoy it all.

02. Grocery shop regularly.

The number of homecooked meals we've eaten the past few weeks is so few it's shameful. It's time to get back on track; we've moved, and now there's no excuse for our shoddy eating habits.

03. Be brave/embrace change.

There are changes headed our way, I think, and I want to be able to tackle them with courage and enthusiasm. I don't want to lose my nerve when things get stressful and hard -- and they inevitably will, at least a little bit -- so that's my goal this month.

04. Read three books.

I like this goal, so I'm continuing it from the previous couple of months' lists.

05. Play the piano.

The family piano is officially ours, proudly residing in our new living room and waiting to be played. I'd like to get a new piece of sheet music to inspire me to play; any recommendations of something a little more modern and fun to practice on?

july goals.

{photo by Whitnay Wiles}

June is over. How that happened, I'll never really know, but I'm so pleased with last month and the lessons I learned. If you'll recall, I spent June reminding myself that no is a complete sentence, and in the coming days, I'd like to share with you what that reminder meant for my life and what it means for my future.

First, though, a quick June goals update. Apparently, setting goals is the first and most basic step in actually achieving those goals. Who knew?

Sit by the pool. Done. I spent a couple of afternoons out by our pool, plus I took a day off work to go to the beach, just because.

Read three books. Also done. Full recaps and reviews headed your way tomorrow.

Eat more vegetables. Done, thanks to my dad's garden and lots of Saturday trips to the farmers' market. Summertime is my favorite time for fresh vegetables.

Bake a summery dessert. Done. This one was my favorite.

Embrace phone-free and computer-free hours. Meh. This one I could have done better on. I did break my iPhone in the middle of the month, which probably helped my cause a bit, but overall, I spent more time on my phone than I would have liked.

Limit commitments. Done, and certainly the goal I'm most proud of accomplishing. I actually think the decisions I made in June are going to have a lasting impact on how I make decisions in the future.

Now, for July's goals:

01. Swim in the pool/visit the beach.

It's hot here. Like, lay-on-your-bed-under-a-ceiling-fan-with-nothing-but-your-underwear-on kind of hot. I'm not sure if "sitting by the pool" is really part of my MO (I'm not a glamourous sweat-er), but I would like to take a few trips to the pool and beach to swim and be close to the water. (I'm convinced it has healing powers.)

02. Read three books.

A continuation of last month's goal, and with reason. I am a happier person when my nightstand is full of the written word. I'm currently making my way through Quiet, with Anna Quindlen's new memoir on deck.

03. Get organized.

So... We're moving. We finally found a place, which means it's time to stop thinking and start doing. A move is the perfect time to purge, and I've got a high hopes for keeping our new home de-cluttered. I'll have to organize this home if I ever have any hope of maintaining the next, though. First up? Our so-scary-we-could-be-on-Hoarders office.

04. Pack.

Our official move-in date is August 1, but our fingers are crossed we'll be able to start taking little loads over around mid-July. This is really happening, and I'm over-the-moon excited. I'm hoping this excitement means even packing could be fun.

05. Give careful yeses.

I don't want the hard work I did in June to disappear this month, but I can tell I'm going to have to remind myself constantly how much more at peace I am when I limit my commitments. I think my genetic makeup and natural tendency is to say yes, so it cuts a bit against the grain to pause for a moment and weigh my options carefully. That being said, my nos paid off in June, and I want to continue that newly-formed habit and be wise with my yeses. (Besides, moving is a pretty legitimate reason to occasionally say no, don't you think?)

june goals.

{photo by Michael Muller}

01. Sit by the pool.

This month, I'd like to spend time outside by the pool, reading books and getting some much needed Vitamin D.

02. Read three books.

May was so chaotic and hectic that most nights, I came home and crashed on the couch in front of the TV. As a result, I started several books, but didn't finish any. This month, I'd like to fix that, and at the very least finish all the books I started in May.

03. Eat more vegetables.

Summer is the perfect time to eat more vegetables -- you can get so many of them fresh from your garden or farmer's market -- and I'd like to focus on doing that with each dinner-time meal this month.

04. Bake a summery dessert.

I pinned some wonderful sounding desserts while in bed feeling not-so-great yesterday, and I'd like to conquer at least one of them this month. They all sound like they'd be the perfect summertime after-dinner treat.

05. Embrace phone-free and computer-free hours.

Since getting an iPhone for my birthday back in February, I've become more and more accustomed to having the internet at my fingertips. While sometimes that's a huge help (house-hunting, for example), I've noticed it can also detract from who I'm with and what I'm doing in that moment. I also have a hard time turning off the computer in the evenings, whether for work or for play or for Netflix. I'd like to embrace some computer/phone-free hours this month, preferably replacing that time with earlier bedtimes and more evenings with the books I love so much.

06. Limit commitments.

We've officially begun what a friend lovingly (I hope) termed "just say no June," meaning the Joneses are really trying to limit their time-consuming commitments this month. My goal is not to turn down any and every offer of fun or time together; it's simply to reevaluate how I and with who I spend my time. The goal is to figure out what brings me energy and what takes it away, to determine what I need to step back from and what I need to embrace. I'm anticipating lots of learning this month, and I also have my fingers crossed for lots of quiet and rest.

Do you have any June goals? What are they?