My Life in a Box

Well, tomorrow is the big move. Actually, it's the big send. I'm sending 90% of my stuff up North, but I'm staying here for about six more weeks. My wedding is in six weeks. Wow.

So it's been a pretty long night of packing and watching it snow...really? It was a productive day despite the ridiculous weather.

I finished the headboard!!! :)

Here are the before and after shots--


Before


After!!!

I am so pleased with it! Thanks Momma, for all of your help! :)

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As I was packing tonight, I got out my "box of really important stuff"; the box that houses my banking information, my extra checks, a folder of cards I've received over the years that make me happy, and my passport, international visa and social security card. I took out the last three items in that list and put them in what will now serve as my nightstand: a shoebox. I also picked up my Bible and put it in the box next to my passport. I stopped and looked at my sister and said, "Why is that my life right there??"

It's true. My life in a box. My passport, my Bible, and a box. So fitting for every stage of my life.

My Bible.

My family has been in ministry since before I was born. My parents were associate pastors of a church 30 days after their wedding day. Along came my sister and I few years later. Ministry is all we have ever known.

My passport.

Missions. Travel. International ministry. There is nothing like having church in the Philippines. There is nothing like chicken adobo and rice. There is nothing like that smell that greets you as you walk off the plane in Manila. It's a mixture of pollution, heat, dirt, rubber, and the tropics...and it's the most amazing smell in the world.

The box.

As I have said before, I am a gypsy. I make anywhere home with whatever I find in whatever box I choose to unpack. I pack up again in whatever box that comes to hand when the time comes to move on.

Three tangible things that represent my life so completely. There is One more element to my life that never changes. Intangible and unseen, God has always been along with me, watching over me and guiding me on every adventure on which I have embarked. He has helped me determine the priorities for my life.
My Bible. My passport. And a box.

Happy President's Day!

It’s a rainy Monday in the Lou. I’m with my kiddos today, two sick, one well, all still in their jammies. SpongeBob is the order of the day.

I am checking off my To Do list for this lovely holiday.

• Thank You notes for the most fabulous bridal shower ever (thank you to my amazing sister)- Done.

So maybe that was the only thing on my list for the daytime…tonight and the rest of this week:

1. Wal-Mart to get a couple more bins for packing
2. Finish the headboard (you guys are gonna love it!!)
3. Go through the kitchen and pack up all my stuff
4. Go through my closet and pack up my clothes

Big things, but doable over the next few days and nights.

The happy part of my President’s Day?


These. Gorgeous. Toms. :)

Thank you Daddy!!

Happy President’s Day to you all!

He Really Cares

Every once in a VERY long time I get the crafting bug. When this happens, my first instinct is to hop down to the pottery painting shop I love and release my extremely limited artistic abilities on some unsuspecting piece of clay. I must say, I love to paint! Pottery is fun because if you mess up, it's very simple to scrap the paint off and try again. Pottery is very forgiving.



This is my favorite piece I've ever done. It was only a few days old when a friend of mine dropped it. She insisted on gluing it back together and now it's PERFECT!! I love that it has so much personality!! The cracks and chips give it a life, a story of its own. So, thank you Stephanie!! :)

In preparation for my move, I have started boxing up all my things and organizing things in bins and boxes. I've been thinking about what I want to do in my house and how I want to decorate it. My mom has been extremely influential in introducing me to the blogging world and its wonderful decorating ideas. It also seems that my mother has some kind of special vision. She sees things and makes her visions come to life in ordinary pieces of fabric, wood, whatever really. She gave me these windows from my grandmother's house.



What she doesn't know is that when she comes in this weekend, it'll be our project to distress these and make them awesome wall decor for my house. :)

She does know about this project though- My goodwill find today!



I am not a frequent goodwill patron. But I have come to realize that it's cheaper to find someone else's trash and turn it into my treasure. :)

It's our plan to turn this sad little painting into a gorgeous headboard for my guest bedroom. Mom's got it in her head to mimick the ruching pattern on a bridesmaid's dress I wore recently in this frame and make it awesome. I'll keep you posted on this little sweetheart... :)

It's been a productive day so far.

While I was gathering all these projects today, I learned a little lesson that I've been thinking on all day.

God cares.

Two words that have such an incredible impact.

There are so many times when I don't stop to ask God what He thinks, because I just think, you know it's not cancer, or a car wreck, it's just a bridesmaids dress, or a flower, a date...a ______fill in the blank______. But the fact is that God really cares about everything we care about. From the biggest mountain we face, to the tiniest step we take, He is there and He cares more than anyone else.

This has been my life change moment today; being reminded that God really cares about me, my decisions, my life, my home, my family, my everything. It really feels good to know that.

Happy Heart's Day

Happy Valentine’s Day to one and all! :)

This year my funny little honey and I decided that we’d better use our hard-earned money toward our wedding, instead of getting gifts for this greeting card holiday… ;)

So I spent the majority of my day throwing my crazy gift-giving love language into my sister’s Valentine’s day surprise.


She loved it. :)

I went off to work in the afternoon, and sitting in the carpool line, I was on the phone with Corey. He said, “I’m gonna say a word and you tell me the first thing that pops into your head.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Strawberry daiquiri.”

“CRUISE!!!!” I said, my mind immediately going to the perfect honeymoon we have planned. Knowing my love of “fruity drinks”, Corey was immensely proud of himself for purchasing the premium non-alcoholic drink package on our cruise.

We said goodbye and I picked up the kiddos and heard all about the Valentine’s Day parties and saw all the candy that will ensure their constant state of hyperness for the next two weeks. Olivia, the diva of the family, had Daisies so she didn’t come home with us. She rang the doorbell at about twenty to five and rushed in with her pretty blue Daisies vest on. We got her homework done and I called the other kids to dinner when the doorbell rang again…




He spoils me. “Did you really think I would let you go without flowers on Valentine’s day babe??” he asked me. He told me he wanted something different, and when he saw the margarita glass arrangement all he could think about was our cruise and how much fun we’re going to have. That nailed it.

“I think I did pretty good this time,” he said. “You said you didn’t want anything, but deep down I knew you did.”

And he was right.

Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. I Corinthians 13:4-8

Happy Love Day! :)

Pillars

Tonight I reverted back to my infancy.

Though I can be very expressive, the life of the party, the hyper, crazy, bubbly one of the group, I have always been something of a homebody. I like to be at home. I like to sleep in my own bed with my own pillow. In college I traveled a lot and got used to sleeping in random peoples’ homes and in hotels. But since I have graduated it’s gotten to the point where I really have a difficult time sleeping anywhere but at home in my own bed.

After a long and busy work week, I often find that I will spend my entire Saturday at home, most of the time alone, cleaning, watching movies, reading, whatever really…but at home.

This homebody syndrome I believe is the product of my early childhood (it certainly has nothing to do with the fact that I moved around a lot growing up……..). When I was born I caught a cold at the hospital that nearly claimed my life. My doctor instructed my mother that she was to keep me at home and was not to leave me with anyone else, or I would die. So, Momma stayed home with me until I was recovered, missing her own sister’s wedding for my health’s sake.

As I grew and became stronger and healthier, I had developed a habit of always sleeping in my bed. I didn’t like to be rocked to sleep or held, I wanted my bed. And when I wanted my bed, I had to have my bed.

As a young couple, naturally my parents enjoyed hanging out with their friends and enjoying some chill time with people their age (though I think they called it “fellowship”). Several of their married friends had children my sister’s and my age, so they were all kind of in the same boat: young with a couple of young children. So after church and on the weekends they enjoyed spending time together…except that, well, I liked to sleep in my bed. So the whole after church going out to eat thing, yeah, I wasn’t a fan. I would scream the entire time we were in a restaurant. It got to the point that my parents would hire a sitter to take me home so they could go out.

I’m telling you all of this from the information my mother has given me time and again… I was such a perfect child. ;)

So, I blame my homebody syndrome on my infancy. I want my bed. My pillow. And apparently sometimes I just need the security of knowing my parents are there.

When I was growing up, my mom used to babysit several toddlers in our home. One in particular, Nathaniel, used to stand at the front window and cry for about the first thirty minutes after his mother dropped him off.

Many children endure separation anxiety, but they tend to grow out of it rather quickly, especially if they are repeatedly left at daycare or with a babysitter.

I guess I still have a little bit of a two year old somewhere buried deep inside.

My parents flew in tonight from Arizona and planned to stay the night with us. After two weeks of hard work and little sleep, Daddy decided he wanted a real bed (who wouldn’t want to sleep on a sleeping bag in my living room floor??), so they went to a hotel. I happened to be on the phone when they left, so I said a hurried goodbye to them. When I walked back out to the living room a few minutes later, they had gone and the lights were out. Tears overflowed my eyes and I started to panic. Mind you, I have absolutely no idea why this troubled me so much. I just knew Momma and Daddy were gone and I wished they weren’t.

After two phone calls and some more tears, I still don’t know what triggered the two-year-old Danielle. But, it’s almost nice to be reminded of how much I love my parents and how much I enjoy being around them. They are the pillars without which I could not stand. They have always been my biggest fans, always my strongest supporters, always my fiercest protectors. And I love them. More than these words, or any others could ever express.

Wedding-ed or Married?

Sick day with my one of my nanny kiddos… Lots of time to get wedding things done that I’ve been putting off. The ground is still covered in icy snow, but the sun is out today! The weather forecast for the next few days shows a warming trend and I could not be happier!! Spring is on the way and with it my wedding!

Flowers. Check.

Bridesmaids dress. Check. (FINALLY)

Bouquet. Check.

Bridesmaids’ gifts. Check.

Reception fare. Check.

Music and musicians. Check.

Whew!! It’s been quite the roller coaster, but I think we might actually be on the other side of all the craziness. My saving grace has been my mother, my sister, and my precious friends who never fail to help me forget all the worries and stress.

There are a lot of responsibilities that come with wearing this gorgeous ring, and very few of them have to do with pulling off a fabulous wedding (which I fully intend to do).




Many people say that a wedding ring is a sign of unending love, the no beginning, no end circle is thought to symbolize unity and oneness. Some believe that the reason the wedding ring is worn on the third finger is because the vein that is in that finger leads directly to the heart.

For me, wearing this ring means I have a lot of new jobs in my life: taking care of a home, a husband, a marriage. It means loving someone, the same person, every single day of our life unconditionally. It means making him happy even when I don’t really feel like it. It means putting someone else above myself.

In all my wedding planning, all the emails, all the phone calls, all the ordering and choosing, I have determined that I will not allow myself to be, as my mother says, “wedding-ed.” A marriage has so little to do with a wedding that if we were all honest, there really is no need for all the fuss. A preacher, a marriage license, and the vows. That’s all it really takes.

Yes, my wedding is going to be the most perfect day of my life. Some may not find it as fabulous as I will, but really, it's not about anyone else except my darling Corey and me. Everything I do for this perfect day, I do for us, because it's our life together that is my focus. Our marriage, not our wedding.

Sometimes it's not so easy to keep this perspective, but thankfully I have good people guiding me and helping me blaze this new trail towards marriage. I have complete confidence that these next few months of my life will be the most wonderful I've ever experienced.

Just have to get through this crazy wedding for that life change! :)

House(s) That Built Me

Happy birthday to my fabulous fiancé!! He's the most amazing man, my best friend, the absolute perfect person for me and I love him! :) Sixty days until our happy day!!

I got to see my new house on Saturday; a precious two-bedroom apartment with a fireplace (if I'm moving to the Arctic, I must have warmth).

This will be my 13th move in 24 years. I am a professional at packing. I can be ruthless and weed out old magazines, old clothes, old books, old purses. I can organize and box things up efficiently. I have the physical skills. The emotional skills, however...those are little harder to come by.

On average I have moved every 1.8 years. Not always to a different city, but then again, sometimes to a different country. I've lived in apartments, dorm rooms, houses, and an RV (after which I vowed to have a closet large enough to hang everything, even the unmentionables). I have shared a bedroom, a bathroom, an 8ft living space. During one move, I packed all my earthly belongings for nearly a year in one suitcase. I can do this thing called moving, and I can do it well.

Looking back, I have specific memories from each of the houses/apartments/dorm rooms/RV I have lived in as far back as my 3rd birthday party on Starlett Lane in Connecticut (I don't remember the few before that).

My 5th birthday was in the basement of our first house in central Missouri. I also remember my first best friend spending many slumber party nights in that house with me. Our neighbors had a little girl about my age that I was close to also. We made secret forts in the woods, swam, road bikes, played kick ball. It was in our years in that house that we took our first trip to the Philippines when I was seven.

We moved not long after that to our second home in the same city. We rented that home until my dad finished building the third home we would occupy in Missouri. While we lived in the rental, we gave our dog Buckwheat away. Our new home did not have a fenced yard and he was a beagle, an outside dog. We gave him to a nice man with lots of land for him to run on.

The new house, the one my dad built was #3. It was beautiful. We made it our own. We had a fireplace and a big backyard. My sister and I picked mulberries from the tree in our big backyard. We were always having people over from church, enjoying lots of company in our big kitchen and living room.

From that 1700 sq. ft. home, we moved into a 30ft RV just after my 11th birthday. What's 1670 feet? The four of us shared a bathroom. My sister and I had a closet about the size of match box until we got creative and made a closet in the back of our econo van. We had a refrigerator that was about 2 feet wide. And there we lived for about 3 years.

We made our first long term trip overseas when I was 13. We lived in Manila for 10 months. When we packed for that trip I had one suitcase to my name. And I made it work. We lived in someone else's home, used their beds, their dishes, their furniture. There I had my 14th birthday and made lifelong friendships.

Back to the States we went. Back to the RV. And then, a year and half later, back to to Manila again. This time with ALL of our stuff. Our beds, our furniture, our dishes. We stayed for three years, and moved from our condo to a house during that time.

Back to the States again when I was 18, into college dorm 1 of 3. Three years of college, traveling, singing, making the best of friends. Graduation came in '09 and into our first apartment my sister and I went when I was 22.

That brings us to today. Last night I brought home some boxes to continue backing up my things to make my 13th move. I have been thinking about how I want to decorate and personalize the first home I will share with my future husband. I have lots of ideas... :)

As I reflect on my many relocations while preparing for my next one, I find myself strongly relating to Miranda Lambert's song, The House That Built Me. In the song she remembers her childhood home and hopes to draw strength from it. For me, home was wherever my family was. Home was the life that our traveling family made. Home was more of a security inside me, than any actual building. I always knew Mom and Dad would make sure I had a pillow and a blanket and that Daddy would pray with me before I went to sleep, petitioing the angels to guard me in my slumber. Mom and Dad always made wherever we happened to be, home. That security made me who I am. The life I lived, all the relocations, all the start-from-scratch beginnings, made me the person I am today, and hopefully will impact who I will become as I start from scratch once again.

Do I regret it? Do I wish I had lived in the same house my whole life? No way. I loved my life. Maybe not particularly at the time, but looking back, I am so glad I lived the way I did. I was exposed to new cultures, new ways of living. I met tons of people, made many lifelong friendships, and ultimately learned the valuable lesson of loving people. All because I moved a lot.

It would take me a very long time, several thousand dollars, and few plane tickets to visit all the houses where I have lived. But if I could see each one of them right now, I would enjoy all the memories that would come to mind, and realize that they each are apart of who I have become. They have each in their own way, changed my life.

Thundersnow

It’s a perfect snow day. It’s all gloomy and dark outside, so my sister and I are keeping warm and taking advantage of our inability to go to work. I made a fabulous breakfast and a whole pot of coffee. I’ve never heard of thundersnow, but that’s what the weather man is predicting. Your guess is as good as mine.

I got some wedding stuff done today. I feel accomplished! You see, I am no event planner. Never have been. I just say: Here, this is pretty, somebody make this. Most of the time my mom and sister’s questions are answered with: I don’t care, whatever you think looks pretty. :) Just get me down the aisle, let me wear the pretty dress and the ring, and take me on a fabulous trip…please and thank you.

My mom has worked countless hours on my wedding, at my request of course. She is single handedly addressing and mailing all of my invitations. She is making my wedding dress (which is fabulous I must say). She is making my going away dress. She’s making her MOB dress. She’s making my sister’s MOH dress. No, she is not making a dress for my dad. Mom has worked and reworked, and worked and reworked the reception menu. She has daily been watching for certain items to go on sale for this and that to do with the wedding. She researched and wrote all the information for the bridesmaids’ dresses.

And all of this she has done, as she says, as a labor of love for me and my amazing fiancé.

She deals with every nervous breakdown I have with grace and encouragement. She keeps me going. She always tells me that “Everything will be fine, sweetie.” And she’s always right. She is quite possibly the most amazing woman I know. I can’t imagine doing this whole wedding thing without her.

And that’s when I do start imagining.

A dear friend of mine recently loss his precious mother-in-law to be. He and his beautiful fiancée are excitedly awaiting their fall wedding, and in the midst of their excitement, their planning, their happiness, tragedy snuck in.

It’s simple really, the purpose of this post. It’s reminder to be thankful .

My mom frequently reminds me, “Sweetie, tomorrow is not promised to us.” And it’s true. Who knows what tomorrow holds? When tragedy touches my life, I am easily reminded of all the things I should have done. All the compliments I should have paid. All the hugs I should have given. Should have.

I know we can’t live in the past, we have to move on with our lives and keep on keepin’ on. But we should never allow a tragedy to not affect us. Every situation that comes our way is a test, an obstacle that we must overcome and we must allow it to change us as a person. We must accept that change, embrace it. We must allow tragedy, betrayal, emotion hurt and painful decisions to bring about a change in our make up. Bitterness is not an option. The change that we allow to take hold of us must always be positive.

Bitterness is not an option. Betterness, however, is the best option. Choose to be better. Choose to be thankful. Choose to give out all those hugs, all those compliments; all those things you should do, do them. Choose to be better.

The snow is still falling, pouring really. The sky is still gloomy. The sun is way far above all of these clouds, but it’s still there, waiting to come out again and shower us in light and warmth.

Find your sunshine today and remember to be thankful, it might just change your life. :)

Enjoy the snow day! :)