The (Not So) Happy Birthday

My birthday is this week.

Growing up, birthdays were a big deal.  I mean, a really big deal. The entire family got together.  Presents were showered upon us. My grandma made them a big deal.  Always.

My grandma was also a little crazy.  And was definitely a one-upper. She waited until her brother scheduled the date for his wedding.  And then scheduled hers for the day before. My grandma was an amazing woman. But a little crazy, nonetheless.  

18 years ago, she definitely one-upped me.  She died on my 20th birthday. All of a sudden, a day that had always been a huge deal became something else.  And I’m still not sure how to feel about it. Over the years, I have tried to take the day back. But to say the least, I have been unsuccessful.  It seems like the harder I tried to plan good things, and good things only, to happen on my birthday, the worse the day was.

One year, my ex nearly knocked me unconscious, and I ended up with a bruise from my eye to my ear.  He tried to tell me the watch and earrings were my birthday present. But really, it was a weak form of apology.

Another year, a different ex started a huge fight with me, because how dare I have a birthday, and the attention be taken off him for a day.  After making a huge celebration for his own birthday, he turned around and told me that anyone who tried to celebrate their birthday was immature.  He got drunk. And I cried myself to sleep.

And then, even last year, the last entry in my “thank you God that didn’t work out” series of boyfriends tried to do something nice.  Turns out, I got threatened at school.  

This year, I’m purposely not making any plans.  I’m not trying to make the day, well, anything. Secretly, not so secretly, I’m still hoping up hopes that something amazing and fantastic and wonderful will happen.  Who wouldn’t?

But honestly, if I can just survive the day, I will be thrilled. 

Be Happy Anyway

The world today gives us a million reasons to be grouchy.

Be happy anyway.

Things go wrong, despite the best laid plans.

Be happy anyway.

It’s too early in the morning.

Be happy anyway.

Just, be happy anyway.

In the past couple of weeks, I have been both complimented, and criticized.  For the EXACT SAME THING!!!

When I am at school (also known as my job) I am over the top happy.  I am friendly, and welcoming.  I’m that super annoying person that cheerfully greets everyone with a good morning and a smile.  I give students high fives.  I joke with them, laugh with them.  I want them to know, really, truly, honestly know that I am glad they are at school.

It requires a great deal of coffee to be successful at that.  And some days are more successful than others.

But it is absolutely on purpose.

One of my favorite tasks during the day is taking breakfast tickets.  It may seem like a menial task.  But I see it as one of the most important things I do all day long.  And it isn’t making sure that the kiddos are properly entered into the system.  Every single morning, one of the first things they hear when walking into the school building is me.  Me wishing them good morning, calling them by name, and a smile to go along with it.

Because, if you aren’t aware, many kids that eat breakfast at school are doing so because that’s one of the two meals they know they will eat during the day.  Many of these kiddos come from homes (if they can even really be called that) that aren’t, let’s go with ideal.

But when they come to school, I want them to know, to feel, to see that someone cares for them.  And that they are cared for.

That’s the most important thing I can do here.

If they learn something from me, too, that’s great.

So when someone tries to shame me for being happy, I don’t let it get me down.  In a world where there are a million reasons not to smile, I choose to anyway.  When the sun refuses to shine, I am the sunshine.

But let me tell you a little secret.  Some days, I don’t feel like being happy.  But I choose to anyway.  I have for years.  This actually started many years ago, when, in another life, I traveled around the country, and taught Preschool teachers.  Often, when people travel, they are stressed out, and uncomfortable, and grouchy and rude.

I get it, travelling stinks sometimes.

But one year, I made a decision.  I wouldn’t let that be me.  I wouldn’t be the person that was grouchy and rude to my fellow travelers and airport personnel.  It was fantastic.  Because you can really surprise people when you’re actually nice to them.  And you can meet some really interesting and fantastic people along the way.  I remember one time, I had to get my bag searched, because I forgot that I had a bottle of hand sanitizer.  Looking back, I probably should have used it more frequently.  But that’s another issue.  Anyway, I had to have my bag searched.  The TSA agent found that there was nothing nefarious in my purse, and at the end of what must have been a very long day for him, he told me that I was free to go.  As I was collecting my things, I turned to him and smiled, and I told him “thank you, have a nice day” with a huge smile on my face.  The man’s jaw ended up on the floor.

He probably had never been thanked before after searching someone’s bag.  And I was *gasp* actually nice to him!

Seriously folks, it’s not that hard.  Don’t be a sucky human being.

So, yes.  Be nice to other people.

But here it is, are you ready for the big secret???

Being happy, joyful, sunny, welcoming, positive, and uplifting to other people has a side effect.  It makes you feel better about yourself.  When you’re nice to other people, it makes you feel better!

So, when my students get ready to walk in the door, and they’re dragging because they just got up 10 minutes ago, and look like they’re still half asleep, because they are, I’m even more over the top happy to them.  I may even sing and dance.  You never know what might happen.

So go out there, have an awesome and amazing and fantastic Friday, folks!

A Million Tiny Pieces

“Today is my last day.”

Ok, I said.

And he kept telling me the long list of things that happened.  And where they were going.

And all I could say was “ok.”

I just kept saying ok over and over and over again.  Because if I said anything more than that, I would break down sobbing.

Because I needed to remain strong, because as he was telling me why he was leaving, he was shaking and trying not to cry himself.









Meanwhile, on the inside, my heart shattered into a million pieces.

These are my kids.  My kids that aren’t biologically mine.  My kids that don’t live with me.  But they are my kids, because I work with them every single day.  And I care about them.  My kids because they may not live in my house, but they certainly live in my heart.

My kids who are leaving me, because home is no longer a safe place for them to be.

I am heartbroken.

They are heartbroken.  Because even though home isn’t a great place to be, they’re being sent off into a new, and scary place to be.  One where their best friends won’t be every day.  One where the teachers that have taken them under their wings, and loved on, protected and guided through life won’t be.

God is in control.  I know that.

But when I could, I cried in the staff restroom.  And then pulled myself together, or at least tried to.  So my grief over the situation wouldn’t make things even worse.

It’s a new day.

It’s a tough day.

But it is a day we will get through.

The Running Monologue

I’m not good enough.

I’m not pretty enough.

He would never notice me.

He would never be interested in me.

I’m not thin enough.

All of these negative thoughts, and then some, have filtered through my head in the past 12 hours.  They hit me like a flood.  All of those supposed truths that I used to believe.  And they hit hard enough that I almost started to believe them again.

I had to give myself a pep talk this morning in the shower.  That I am good enough.  I am beautiful.  And that I am a catch.  And if some guy is too dumb to realize all of those things, then he isn’t the one for me.

But this whole incident has prompted me to do a little self-reflection on why all of those thoughts came flooding back through my brain.  And I came up with a couple of reasonable ideas.

  1. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically.  I’ve had a long, stressful week.  And it seems like the devil knows just when to pounce.
  2. I am mistaking God’s inactivity for a lack of approval.

I get it that waiting just sucks.  I will be the first one to admit that.  I don’t enjoy being patient.  I never have.  But just because God is saying “not yet” does not mean that the answer is no.  Or even worse, that the answer is that I don’t deserve it.  Or I’m not worthy of it.

Because, news flash, none of us are worthy of the love that God showers on us every day.  And let’s not talk about what we deserve!  Because I guarantee that God is saving me from a whole long list of things that I probably actually deserve.  But He is kind and gentle and loving, and He has chosen me, He has saved me from all of those nasty things that I do deserve.

So, pep talk accomplished.  But I still need more coffee.

Happy Monday!!!

Life is an Adventure

Youth group: last night.  12 teens, 6 adults, sitting around my friends living room.  Awkward looks across the room. How is this going to go? Am I really prepared to do this?  

Of course I am.  

I love youth group.  

Stressful as they may be to work with at times, and yesterday was definitely a stressful day, I love working with teenagers.  

And the series that we are starting with is so much fun.  Life is an adventure.  

So here are the basics of it:

There seems to be this formula for being a Christian that we all think we have to follow to make it to heaven one day.  But look for more unique, or beyond the normal ways of spending time with God.

When asked what they thought of when asked how to spend time with God, we got a whole list of church answers.  You know what I’m talking about. Read my Bible. Pray. Go to church.  

Don’t get me wrong, I do think those things are important.  Because they are. But they are far from the only ways to spend time with God.  

Several people opened up last night that they struggle with reading the Bible.  They just simply struggle with being able to comprehend what it actually means, or the message that it is trying to convey.  I get it. Been there myself. Some days, I still am there myself.  Because when it gets into Deuteronomy and it keeps listing the rules over and over and over and OVER again, my eyes start to cross, and I simply start to wander off into la la land.  

It happens.

Don’t tell me you’ve never experienced it.

But there are strategies to help focus more, and to understand what the Bible is actually talking about.  For one, I started reading a Life Application Study Bible. So beyond actually reading what the Bible says, super smart people also tell us what’s actually going on, why it is important, and how you can apply principles that were established thousands of years ago, to life today.  For example, in my Old Testament reading I am currently in Exodus, and it’s the part where Moses is explaining all of the rituals that God commanded them to have in order to worship Him.  

The first few times I read this, I thought it was absurd.  And I didn’t understand it. And I got frustrated. But there was one comment in my Bible that has helped me tremendously.  People living at that time didn’t know how to worship.

Did you catch that?

Worshiping God was a completely brand new concept.  

So looking at this, reading this, from the perspective that I have, where people have worshiped God for thousands of years, we kind of know what to do.  

But back in the day, no one had any idea of what to do, or how to worship.  What they weren’t supposed to do, or wear, or anything.  

So knowing that one teeny, tiny piece of information makes complete sense.  So now I’m reading with that lens in place, and it is far less ridiculous.  

If you go back to the beginning of what I was writing in this post, you should recall that our discussion last night centered around the non-formulaic ways to spend time with God.  And then I brought up Exodus, and the very strict formula they were given to worship God. So why did things change? 



Jesus changed everything.  

Jesus made this relationship possible. His life, his death, his sacrifice, made my life possible.


The last big adventure I went on was near the end of summer, and I went on a short trip with 2 of my girlfriends from college, to celebrate our 20th anniversary.  Which just seems ludicrous. Because there is no possible way that I started college 20 years ago. Except, we did. So when we started planning this trip, and the location that we chose, it was mentioned that ziplining was available.  

My mom has even stated that she wanted to try ziplining sometime.

So I mentioned that I had never went, and I needed to check it off my bucket list.

I’m an idiot.

Because guess what?

I hate heights.  Like, really hate them.  A lot. Just thinking about it gives me heart palpitations.  And I might cry. Or pee my pants a little.

Ok, maybe not.  

So first of all, let me tell you one thing.  When we actually made the plans to go ziplining, I started praying.  A lot. Because I honestly wasn’t sure I was going to be able to make it.  So I prayed, and prayed, and prayed. Before, during, and after.  

If life, and my relationship with God, is an adventure, I think my experience ziplining describes it quite perfectly.  When I was standing on the platform, getting hooked up to the line, I was terrified. Absolutely terrified. I was scared to take that leap the very first time.  Because I had no idea what to expect. Am I really about to trust a harness and a little strip of cord to support me and carry me to the next platform? What is it going to feel like?  Am I going to vomit? I had no idea what to expect.  

For those of you who are tentative about beginning a relationship with God, you may feel much like I did standing on that platform.

But I lept.  And it was amazing.  

I landed on the next platform, that happened to be up a tree.  So we’re all standing on the platform, and it’s swaying a little.  And I really think that I might puke. I am completely freaking out yet again.  And then it was my turn to zip once again. I stood up to get attached to the line.  And I couldn’t lift my feet. I thought they were going to have to push me. But then I had the realization that being stuck up the tree was my problem.  That is what was making me nervous. I knew that as soon as I lifted my feet, and trusted the line and the harness and our guides, I would be perfectly fine.

And.  I. Was.  

Maybe you’re exactly where I was up in that tree.  You’ve began your relationship with God, but you’ve landed on the platform, which isn’t a bad place to be.  But you’re afraid to move forward. You’re afraid to take the leap, because you just aren’t sure of what is going to happen.  Things turned out fine the first time, but what if the next time, they don’t. What if it isn’t going to feel the same? What if it’s worse?  

Well, guess what?  I had 7 lines to zip.  And every single time I had to lift my feet and jump, it kept getting easier and easier.  

By the end, I wasn’t holding on with a death grip.  I was relaxing, and going with the flow. I even let myself flip upside down, because I trusted that I would be ok.

Your relationship with God is and adventure.  It can and it will be scary sometimes.  But in the end, it is so totally and completely worth it.

Personally, I can’t wait to go ziplining again.

Yes, you can be nervous.  But take the leap. I promise, it’s worth it.  

Live the adventure.

Love the adventure.

Please. Send. Coffee.

Power outage.

CO2 detector battery dies.

Weird noises in my basement.

The dad makes early morning trip to my house.

Power comes back on.

Check out basement.

Weird noises turn out to be water pump failure.

Make early morning trek to the parents house to get ready for school.

Me: Good morning.  I’d really like to tell you I’m happy to see you.  But I’m not.

Mom: I’m not happy to see you either.

So that’s how my morning got kicked off.  And even though I really am not a fan of how my morning started, I’m not grouchy.  Because I can see God working through the entire morning.  If my power hadn’t went off, and the CO2 detectors battery wouldn’t have died, my dad wouldn’t have been at my house when the power came back on, only to realize that my water pump had already died.

And to be honest, there is some family drama going on this week with my dad’s sister and her husband, who I refuse to call my aunt and uncle.  Because they certainly don’t act like it.  So maybe all of this is a way to get my dad’s mind off of the stuff going on.  Maybe.

But as I walked into the kitchen at my parents house, my dad commented on my dress.  It’s a nice looking dress.  One that I have often hesitated wearing to school because I didn’t want to feel too dressed up.  Well, I have all of these nice clothes, so I am wearing them this year.  And as I told the dad, just because my day got a less than stellar start, doesn’t mean I have to take that to school with me.  No matter what is going on in my own personal life, the kids I work with deserve the best possible me I can give them.

So, here I am.  Getting ready to start my day.  With a smile on my face.

But seriously, send coffee.  I’m exhausted.

Out Of My Comfort Zone

I tend to shy away from discussing controversial topics.  I don’t engage in pointless arguments on social media. In fact, if you follow me on social media, you will find I talk about 3 main things:  coffee, funny stuff to put a smile on your face, or something uplifting. And that’s basically it.  

But here I am, stepping out of my comfort zone because I feel God calling me to do this.  You should also know that right now, right this very second, my heart is beating faster, and my stomach is in knots because I’m writing this.  

Way out of my comfort zone is an understatement.

But here goes…

“I don’t need you.  I want you.”

I have never told a greater lie to myself.  

But for many, many years, that was my slogan when it came to dating.  Because I was a strong and independent woman, and I didn’t need anyone to fulfill my life.

While some of that principle isn’t entirely accurate, the base of it is still true.  Because I don’t need another human. I need God.


As humans, we need one another.  We do. I cannot survive in this world alone.  There is no possible way that I could survive without the help from others.  I assure you that should I be dropped in the middle of the woods and left to survive on just the things in the woods, I would starve, or my klutzy behind would inevitably do something insane and end up damaging myself beyond repair.

There are people out there that could do those things.

I am certainly not one of them.

When the feminist movement began, it was about having equal rights.  Not being forced to jobs that we didn’t want to do, nor get paid a pittance for doing such a job.  Ending women feeling like second class citizens.  It was about women standing up and saying “I can do this, too. I can do it well. And I should get paid for doing it well.”  But even by the end of the original feminist movement, those that started it no longer supported how far things had gone.

Because if I paid attention to what society thinks I should do, I should have a husband and kids, and work a full time job, and keep my house spotless, and cook amazing meals every night of the week, and do all of the housework, and volunteer.  

So let me clue you in on a little secret.  

If you follow the guidelines that society is setting up for you, you will fail.

Read that again.

You.  Will. Fail.


I tend to consider myself more of a common-sensical feminist.  It follows one simple guideline:

Intelligence is knowing you can do ANYTHING.  Wisdom is knowing you cannot do EVERYTHING.

I do many things that are not what you would consider “girly.”  I build furniture, and I love mowing the lawn, and helping my dad farm.  Yes, I drive a tractor. But I also know that it is not possible for me to do everything all on my own.  

Ask my dad.  As a single woman, I call on him a lot to help me with things around the farm.  

God designed women to be a partner and support system.  And I’m not really sure I understand why all of a sudden that seemed to be a bad thing.  

A while back, I was talking to a fellow teacher.  And his assessment of the world we live in (specifically, with teenagers), he is convinced that women are going to end up ruling the world.  And honestly, if you look at the maturity level between Freshman girls and boys, he is correct. At that age, boys are simply not as mature as girls.  My response was to use the analogy of a farmer…

Looking back to days gone by, to the present, in most cases (certainly not all) the man is the farmer.  He works in the field, he stresses over whether or not to do this or do that. So yes, the man is the farmer.  But if you look at his wife, and all of the tasks she manages to be able to support that farmer: cooking meals, laundry, helping out on the farm.  All of the tasks that she does allows the farm to run smoothly. Both roles are vitally important.  With the roles that women have, we already rule the world.  We just don’t always get credit for it.

So if you are in the position of serving, helping, being a teammate, don’t ever look down on your support role.  

Because without every role being managed, we will fail.

We all must work together.

One ill side effect of the feminist movement that is rather frustrating to deal with is that because women are standing up and saying “I don’t need no man” we are creating a generation of lazy men.

Not all men are lazy.  I get that. Don’t get all kerflusterbated at me.

But some men see that women are pushing them aside to do tasks themselves, and they end up completely content to just sit back and let someone else do it.  And more than anything, it leads to a lack of respect. Take for example, men opening the door for women. Yes, I can physically open a door myself. But I love it when men still open the door for me.  Because that is their way of saying, you know what, yes you can do it yourself. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself.  

So, women, can we please stop accepting the lack of respect, the downright awful expectation, of needing to do absolutely everything to feel like a success? 


Sometimes, out of the blue, wonderful things happen.

Yesterday, I had 2 amazing, albeit brief, wonderful conversations.  One with our School Board president. The other with our Superintendent.  I complimented his polka dot tie (because, how can you not compliment a polka dot tie).  And then he told me how he always appreciates how sunny I am.

And then I almost died eating a grape at lunch.

It’s called “balance.”

A weird thing happened on Sunday.  There was an event Sunday evening at church to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of a mission organization that one of my friends works for.  And I’m hanging out, talking to a few of my friends, and I look over to see 2 students across the sanctuary. Let’s just say, I was shocked that these 2 were at church.  Let alone sober. And then something even more weird happened. They purposely walked all the way across the sanctuary, specifically to say hi to me.  

I’m taking it as a positive thing that they were there, even if one of their mothers forced them to go.  But maybe, just maybe, a seed was planted.

I was telling one of my teacher friends about this encounter, and she told me that I should be the one to make the difference for those two kiddos.  

Of course, my initial reaction was “oh heck to the no.”  

I really have no interest in seeking out opportunities that are going to make me pull my hair out.  

But then I keep looking at one of the posters in my classroom, the one that I wrote myself.  The one that says:


Ok God, how exactly am I supposed to do that?  I am NOT equipped to handle such an endeavor.  

But as we know all too well, God does not call the qualified, he qualifies the called.  So, this should be interesting.

Why So Serious???

Life gets in the way.  Things happen.  

The other night, I started to have a pity party.  Not a huge, mega, the world is ending pity party. More of a “I’m over this malarkey” kind of pity party.  

Let me take a couple of steps back, and explain.  Because a lot of things have been going on…

  • My brother has issues with alcohol, and his marriage dissolved, which has created some drama.
  • I was getting ready to start school to get my Master’s, and the day before class starts, it turns out that I really shouldn’t have been going down that path.
  • My aunt disappeared from life, and refused to continue helping out my grandma.
  • School (my job) started.
  • Trying to figure out what God’s plan for my life actually is.
  • Being compelled to keep telling my story.

There are probably more.  But the main thing you need to take away is…many, many things have been going on.  Things that compel me to be a sponsible redult. And I don’t always want to be a sponsible redult.  

So the other night, I started having a pity party.  I left for my walk (which was abbreviated, because I also had to mow my lawn).  And I just didn’t want to be the girl with the bad back story. The one where I’m always and forever the girl that was abused.  It’s a tough story to tell. So there I was, walking along. And all of a sudden, my heart hears “WHY SO SERIOUS?!?!?!?!”

I admit, amidst everything else that has been going on, having fun has taken a bit of a back burner.  

I know that my writing recently hasn’t really shown this, but…I’m kind of a goof.  Because, you can, in fact, be a goof AND a responsible adult at the same time.

True story.

So even though I’m still feeling the stress of everything else, the weight seems a little lighter today.  

Which is an awesome thing.  

I’m exhausted today, and have been all week.  Plus, tomorrow is Friday the 13th AND an almost full moon.  Which in the community of teachers is one of the absolute most terrifying things, ever.  But last night started a new chapter. I have been a high school youth leader in the past.  But between leaving a church, and being burnt out, I took a year off. But God has opened a wonderful door.  And last night was our first session. And these kids are awesome. And I’m really excited about the new opportunity to work with these kiddos.  Because even though I get to see them every day at school, there is a huge difference between the conversations Ms. Hooks gets to have with them compared to the conversations Johanna can have with them.  And it’s just going to be awesome.  

Ok, so I’m still not being a goof.  I get that. So let me tell you what happened last night…before youth group started.

We have been doing a lot of functional things around the farm, to make things work better.  Burying electric lines to the machine shed. Widening the entrance to the driveway, that ended up being a 6 month nightmare.  And long story short, the farm is a complete disaster. But, we are finally making progress. So last night, the dad calls me and asks if I’m going to be home for a while, because a load of rock is getting delivered, and the guy wasn’t quite sure where he was supposed to dump the rock.  Seriously, right next to my driveway is a huge area of dirt that has been cleared to widen the driveway. The dad told him that’s where the rock needed to be dumped. But the guy gets there, and I had to basically point to the exact spot where to dump it, because he just really wasn’t sure where it needed to go.  

Lord love a duck.

I guess common sense just isn’t that common anymore. 

Ugh, Seriously???

I am annoyed.  Mostly with myself.  A little bit with God.  But seriously, it’s with myself.  This is not the story that I want to tell.  But this is the story that I need to tell.  

My mom has the absolute best intentions in the world.  She really does. And I appreciate the intent, even if I don’t always appreciate the actual thing she does.  For years, she would buy me books, or forward me stories of women who had similar stories to mine, in that I’m an old lady, and I’m still single.  Even though I REALLY don’t want to be.  So she would give me these stories of other women who were in similar circumstances for years and years and years.  And then they meet their soulmate, and life is wonderful.

Those stories annoy me.

Because that is the life that I so desperately want to live.  

Because that’s great and fantastic and wonderful that life has worked out for them.  But here I am. And I’m not in the place that I really want to be. And there are days that I just don’t understand why.  Today is one of those days.  

Except, I really do know the reason why.  Because God is telling me to write the story that I needed to read years ago.  The story of how it’s possible to not be exactly where I want to be. But to still live a life full of joy and wonder and love.  

At the end of the day, I am happy.  I really am.  

And there are days (yesterday, and today) where the loneliness weighs a little heavier on my shoulders.  

Because let me tell you about my weekend.  My cousin, who is seriously more like a sister to me, is amazing.  Her husband is amazing. Her kids are the best, except when they shot me in the eye with a Nerf dart.  Over the weekend, she was telling my mom and I about an event that they had been invited to, and someone that has hurt her was also going to be there.  And her husband’s response to this was so simple, yet so powerful. They had decided that they never wanted this person to ever set eyes on their children.  But beyond that, her husband told her that he didn’t want her to have to experience going to this event for her own mental health.  

Later, my only comment to my mom about this was that I love how he defends her, and protects her.  

I want that.

I’ve never come close to having that.

But that is how it is supposed to be.  

The other thing from this weekend is even more ridiculous.  Because Sunday at church, my pastor was talking about his niece, whose husband just had his fifth brain surgery in just a couple of months.  But through it all, how her faith has never wavered. And she is struggling, and is tired, beyond anything you could imagine. 

And one of the first things that went through my mind was “wow, I want a love like that.”  

Yes, I was jealous of the love that this woman has for God, and for her husband.  Not the situation, mind you. Because no one should have to experience anything like that.  But the love that they have is what everyone should have.  

Last night, I went for a walk.  Honestly, I was content to sit at home and do nothing.  Mindless, nothing. But I forced myself to go for a walk.  And it was so hot that I didn’t take Cheese with me. So I walked.  And I prayed. I almost wrote that I walked alone. But I really wasn’t.  God was with me. And I spent a lot of time praying. Praying for God to guide me on what to do.  On what to say. And praying for a miracle.

I have decided that that is exactly what it is going to take for me to find my husband.  I need a miracle.  

I am not one of those people you often hear about where they receive the overt and obvious miracles.  I never have been. Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t that God isn’t working in my life. I feel Him working in my life every single day.  Just in a more subtle way.  

So right now, where am I at?  

I am still praying until something happens.  At least, I’m trying to. PUSH. Pray. Until.  Something. Happens.

I’m going to be really honest, I was really hoping that I wouldn’t still be praying about that miracle I need.  But I am. I pray every single day for the ways God is working in my life. And to prepare my heart. And to prepare my husband’s heart.  Whoever he is.  

And I am weary from still needing to pray about it.  I still am. But my patience is wearing thin. And I’m not sure how much longer I will need to pray.  But I also know that if I stop praying for this miracle, I won’t get it.

So, annoyed as I am.  I’m still PUSHing.