Because Waiting Is Not Enough

Back in 2009, I got the news that I was going to be published for a national audience for the very first time. The publication? SUSIE Mag (which became the now defunct SISTERHOOD Magazine, a reboot of Focus On The Family's Brio). The article? A sweet—and thoroughly incomplete—essay titled "Does True Love Really Wait?"

Beginning Again

Here I am once more, at the start of something new, trying to find my way as I wrestle with all the things I think I should be doing, like eating perfectly, making less waste, spending more time in the Word, giving, giving, giving...

My life is a big collection of shoulds.

Tiny Pretty Pieces // 02

I think the world could use some funny/lovely/inspiring/uplifting things to consume today, as opposed to the partisan/divisive/angry rhetoric unfolding on social media, so I'm coming to the rescue. (Maybe. You might think Betty White being open to "fooling around" at age 95 is gross, to which I'd say YOU ARE NOT EVEN WELCOME HERE.)

Tiny Pretty Pieces

This may or may not become a series. I still haven't quite decided since I tend to have big ideas that spark and then fizzle after about five minutes. But, for now, I like the idea of sharing a few pieces of my week here and there as an exercise in gratitude over life's small wonders. Social media tends to drain all my thankfulness and pervert it into the monster of comparison, so I hope these posts will encourage you to stop every little while and take a look at the tiny pretty pieces in your life.

The Next Best Thing Q+A

The Next Best Thing is coming out tomorrow and, you guys, I'm feeling some kinda way about it.

The Next Best Thing: Read Chapter One Now!

Happy Friday and merry Christmas to you!

I have a special treat to share with y'all today, one I hope you enjoy: the first chapter of The Next Best Thing! It seems like just a few weeks ago that I finished this book and, yet, here we are, less than a month away from its release. Emma and her friends are like dear children to me—sometimes even like dear friends—and while I loved writing them, I'm also ready to see them off. For five years, I've carried their stories with me and releasing this final book is like a breath of fresh air in my lungs. I really am like a parent here: excited to see my babies head out into the world and fearful about what will happen after I do.

I guess I'll find out in a few weeks, won't I?


And, today, you're three.

Listen, guys. I try really hard not to be sappy and fall into a pit of hyperbolic nostalgia every time a significant date goes by, but WHO AM I KIDDING? Hyperbole is my life force (here's looking at you, Jen Hatmaker) and when it comes to my daughter, nostalgia dominates my every waking moment. When she was born, I reminisced on the days I imagined becoming a mother, thinking back to that young woman who wondered what her first child would look like, smell like, feel like. The night before Lucy turned one, I rocked her to sleep and kissed her pretty blonde head as I whispered, "You're not a baby anymore, but you're still my baby." Last year, as she stuck out her pinky and took a sip of her birthday tea, I marveled at the tiny human we'd made who would, sooner rather than later, become a big, grown-up human.

And every year, I cry.