37 and counting

37. Wow. I remember as a kid when my parents turned 37. I thought they were ANCIENT. Now here I am, quickly approaching 40. The day passed me by with very little fanfare. December is a busy month in the ministry, and Sunday is the busiest day of our week. Even though we missed out on our typical big family dinner and celebration because of our hectic schedule today, it was still a beautiful birthday.

I spent today doing on of my favorite things- helping to lead worship at The Crossroads. Every week I am amazed by how God is growing the musicians in the band. They just keep improving! I pulled out a couple of pretty tough selections last night at practice, with a plan B in the back of my head just in case. But instead, they nailed both new songs! But the coolest part of today wasn't how well the band did, but how involved the congregation was. There was this one moment during worship where I could hear all this beautiful singing, but it wasn't coming from my monitor. That's when I realized that I could hear the congregation loud and clear over the vocalists in my speaker on stage. I can still remember a time early in our church plant when our congregation was very uncomfortable with singing, and it is cool to see that they have come to embrace worship.

This afternoon we went to our teen girls' band concert. The beginning band did very well, especially considering most of them had never played an instrument until just a few months ago. I admit that the squeaks and honks that naturally happen in beginning band concerts kind of crack me up. The symphonic band was truly very good. I was impressed by how far they have come since the last time I heard them play.

Then this evening was spent at one last meeting for Operation Care. My team tried to make sure that we have everything ready for the big day and to see what still needs to be done. God has certainly blessed us with the right contacts. I am amazed to look at all the full slots for the outdoor stage which were empty slots two weeks ago.

Shawn and I finished out the night with dinner at Carraba's. I enjoyed the good Italian food, and ate way too much. I am excited to have leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

So there it is - my 37th birthday, low key, but pretty awesome.

Ordinary is Okay

As a child in America, we repeatedly hear that we are capable of big things. "You can be the President or an astronaut!" Then as adults, most of us end up living very ordinary lives, working very ordinary jobs. We struggle with a feeling of discontent, because somehow we didn't measure up to the dreams we had for our lives. We keep waiting for the tides to turn and our lives to become extraordinary and for our dreams to come true. We wait for our marriage to magically be like the ones we see on TV, and for our kids to be perfect. We wonder why our house isn't big enough, and our cars rattle and have peeling paint.

Don't get me wrong here, I am not saying that it is wrong to dream. I am simply saying that I have recently been considering that perhaps we have mistaken what is really extraordinary. Somehow we have this idea that it involves the right job and the right house and the right stuff. Maybe it is really found right in the middle of an ordinary life. Maybe the secret to extraordinary is not in pursuing a bigger paycheck, but in pursuing deeper relationships.

Lately I have been watching the people in my life a little closer. I've been thinking about the people that I greatly admire. Most of these people that I would describe as great people are actually very ordinary. They work a nondescript job that pays the bills more months than not. They have families with drama and issues. They slip and fall down along the way, and their names will probably never grace the pages of a history book.

It makes me think that maybe I should focus a little harder on being content with my life and rather than waiting for the "big moment" in life, I should focus on looking for ways to love the people I am with right now. It is time to stop waiting for what's next and time to start living the right now.

Recess

Everyday at 10:30 revival happens in first grade. I announce to my small students to put away their things, grab their jackets and line up. Bored, glazed over little eyes pop open, as they jump from their chairs and sprint to the door. I force them to walk in a calm, straight line all the way down the side of the building until we reach the end of the sidewalk. The instant their tiny feet hit the grass, they are allowed to run. When their feet touch the turf, screams of joy and delight erupt. They run at full speed across the field to the playground equipment. Their plots thicken the air as they debate what games they will play.

When I watch them run, I am reminded of a couple of verses of scripture. The first is Philippians 4:4, "Always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again--rejoice!" These kids understand joy. They erupt with pleasure when they are set free every morning. I have been set free from sin and the grave, I need to be showing more joy in my life! Seeing the joy these kids experience makes me hungry to cultivate that character trait a little more in my life. I have a lot of quiet joy, but I could stand more exuberant excitement about the privilege of following Christ.

The other verse is Philippians 3:14, "I run straight toward the goal to win the prize that God's heavenly call offers in Christ Jesus." My students are goal oriented, whether they are trying to get to the monkey bars, the swings, or the tether balls. They run at absolute top speeds, trying to break the speed of light on their way to acquiring their desired location. Lately I have been watching their determined burst of speed and wondering what my life might look like if I ran after God with that same intensity and passion.

Just a couple of thoughts from the playground: Live joyfully, run harder.

36 and counting

In fifth grade, I had this thing for paper dolls. I played obsessively long games of pretend, you know the type - the princess is rescued by the prince and lives happily ever after. In all these games of pretend, the princess was 16 or so. After all, 20 was just soooo old to find true love.

Last week, I celebrated my 36th birthday. Maybe I should feel old. After all, my natural hair color isn't red anymore and the laugh lines around my eyes don't fade when I stop laughing and rollover doesn't refer to minutes on my phone. But instead, I feel as though I've just begun to live. Don't get me wrong, the 20's were cool - having babies is a blast. But in my thirties, I've found new acceptance with myself. I like the person I'm becoming, and enjoy my marriage.

There are nights when I lie awake and doubt myself. I wonder about my crazy decision to pursue a ministry degree this late in life and try to launch a new career. But most of the time, I am excited that I am comfortable in my own skin, laugh way too hard, and love way too big. I wish that I could pause the clock and spend a few extra minutes enjoying this phase of life.

I am excited to see what surprises, challenges, and blessings this year will hold. Happy Birthday to Me!

Do Over

As a kid, when something went wrong during a game at recess, somebody would holler, "Do over." That meant you got a second try at the game. In playground law, it was assumed that you deserved second chances.

As an adult, it seems that do overs are few and far between. It seems that our choices are weightier with tougher, more long term consequences. Maybe that's why getting a second chance is such a beautiful thing.

We have recently had deep, dark times with our teens. Without betraying their trust, I will simply say that it's easily been one of the hardest months of my life. However, the light at the end of the tunnel is that God handed me a do over. So many times with teens you don't have the opportunity to repair what is broken, therefore I am very grateful for a second chance.

The catch of second chances is that they don't come easily or without sacrifice. For this season in our life, our children have expressed their primary need is more time at home - lots of time with our family. This means that I have given up journey groups, ministry opportunities, and friendships. For this season in our lives, I am digging in deeply and investing into my children. While I desperately miss my friends and getting to minister alongside Shawn, I am already seeing changes at our home.

Tonight I skipped James' game to bring the girls home. We picked up a few groceries at the store, turned on some music and danced, sang, and cooked supper together. As we laughed together at the dinner table, I realized that the lights are shining again in my girls' eyes. They are starting to feel loved and valued again. I have to say that the sparkles in their eyes make the sacrifices easy.

Tonight I was thankful that God is still a God of second chances. And that He gives us the good sense to seize them!

My son's fashion mandate

Riding in the car, merging into traffic on 82, my 13 year old son randomly announces his latest fashion mandate. "Men should NOT wear anything that has to have the word 'man' inserted in front of it. That means it's really girly, but they just want to wear it." I snickered, but didn't start snorting with laughter until he began the monologue list.

"Like a kilt. It's a MAN skirt. It doesn't matter if it has the word man in front, it's still a SKIRT!"

"Or a Man thong. That's just weird. There is NOTHING manly about a thong. Who even invented a man thong? Who wears that?"

"Or Manpris. They're still girly short pants, no matter what you call them. Unless you're in the British army. Then it's okay."

"Or a MAN purse. That's just a purse. Men carry backpacks. Women carry purses. Definitely leather over the shoulder screams, 'I'm a girl.' Maybe a big brown bag with lots of pockets for your computer is okay."

"Or MANscara. That's just wrong."

I thought you all might enjoy just a slice of life in the Kemp car on a random Monday afternoon. Supper was even better. We started with conversation, but somehow it degenerated to all the different noises and faces they could make. Such is our crazy life.

When God's glory doesn't feel glorious

I love being used for God's glory. I love those moments when I realize that I am involved in a plan much bigger than my wildest imagination. It is extraordinary to be in a particular circumstance performing a task or ministry that I do not have the ability, talent or strength to do alone. Then when lives are transformed afterwards, I know that it was God using me for His glory, and it feels glorious. I feel renewed, amazed, awed, excited, and joyful when God uses me to do things for His kingdom!

But sometimes, God's glory doesn't feel so glorious. There are times when God uses tough times for his glory. There are times when what I want or desire or would have happen to make my life easier is not necessarily what is best for the kingdom. One of my all time favorite songs is Mercy Me's "Bring the Rain." I absolutely love the heart of this song, that no matter what, I want God's glory.




I am no stranger to tough times. There have been many dark days in my past, much harder and darker than what I am currently struggling through, but the last couple of years my life has been fairly easy. I am married to the love of my life, I have 4 great kids, a steady job that pays decent, a phenomenal ministry as a church planter, and the opportunity to pursue my musical passions. Then last month my life shifted in the blink of an eye. Closing out week 10 of P90X, I was going down for a push up and didn't come back up. A migraine suddenly slammed into the back of my head, and I woke up several minutes later in the floor. After that, I have dealt with strange and sometimes severe short term memory loss. Things like I don't remember what kind of car I drive to even look for it in the parking lot, heading to work at the wrong school, and forgetting all kinds of important random information like my students' names. I have sticky notes everywhere, just trying to function through my average, typical day.

When I went to the doctors, they began to talk seriously to me about the big things that could be wrong. All of these suggestions were scary, to say the least, all involving early expiration dates. I remembered that God doesn't promise us tomorrow, and that none of us are guaranteed a long walk on this planet. I tried hard not to panic, just to live in the moment, breathing deeply and loving my family hard and not thinking negative thoughts. I have spent more time in the MRI tube than I care to discuss, getting to personally know the technician and his family issues. After thousands of dollars of testing, the doctors can't pinpoint what is going on, but the memory issues continue to interrupt my life daily.

On my last trip to the neurologist, I couldn't remember where his office was. I had no idea whether it was in McKinney, Allen, or Plano. I googled directions again, even though I've been there before. When I arrived, I kept waiting for at least a sense of deja vou, but did not recognize the building, the halls, or even the large fish tank of colorful tropical fish in the small office. I became extremely frustrated that I am losing my mind. In fact, you might say I was pretty pissed about the whole situation. Then I heard that still small voice, "Baby girl, this is all for my glory."

I did a complete double take, stopping dead still where I stood. What the heck? How is this got anything at all to do with God's glory? It seriously interferes with my ability to independently do the ministry that needs doing at The Crossroads. It means that I have to lean hard on my husband and my kids and my friends to help me get through life. How does that bring God glory exactly? How can God be glorified by me being confounded and confused? It sure doesn't feel very glorious!

Well, I don't have any answers. I know that compared to what many people face, a little memory loss is a minor glitch in life. But for me, this has been frustrating beyond measure. Tonight at band I couldn't remember a song that we have sung a hundred times. It felt completely brand new. When I got home, I hit the pavement. Running a little under the stars listening to some jazz seems to bring some peace. Again as I ran, I heard that still small voice, "Baby girl, trust me. This is all for my glory. I got to do this. Trust me."

So tonight, God's glory doesn't feel glorious. It ain't pretty, fun, exciting, or beautiful. However, I am sitting here surrendered. I am willing for God to bring the rain if it will somehow bring him glory. I am simply asking that I am able to serve him with all that I am - with or without my memory! I am hopeful that this cycles through to a successful end sometime in the near future, and that God will restore mind. But in the meantime, I'm still available - however God wants to use me. Even if it doesn't feel so glorious tonight.

Back to School

Today I officially registered for classes as a graduate student at Dallas Baptist University. I am excited to finally be moving forward after spending nearly 2 years waiting on God to point me in the right direction. I will be pursuing a MAWL - funny degree for a girl who doesn't even like to shop. (sorry, couldn't resist)

MAWL = Master of Arts in Worship Leadership, with a concentration in media/journalism. Let's just dispel all of the rumors up front. This is not a singing, lead the band, and direct the choir kind of degree, but a writing, publicity, media, public relations type of degree. I have no idea exactly how I am going to use it in the future, but I decided that I will worry about that when the time comes. Going part time, I will have plenty of years to decide what type of career I might be interested in pursuing.

I have appreciated the dean of the department, Dr. Brooks, walking me through each step of this process. I met him at the National Worship Leader Conference, but I didn't realize he was the dean of the Worship Leadership department. When my application came across his desk, he remembered me, called me up to touch base, and since then has worked hard to make sure that my return to school goes smoothly.

I am nervous about doing well in school. It has been a long time since I was a student, and my brain doesn't function quite as well as it once did. I am also nervous about financial stuff. My financial aid application is on hold because I am missing a college transcript from a school where I took one correspondence class back in 1993. (For my younger readers, this is how we took classes at other universities before the internet. The instructor mailed us questions, we wrote down the answers and mailed them back. In an envelope. With stamps. At the post office.) I am hoping to have all my paperwork in place within the next few days. I had to make a huge downpayment today....don't know where the rest is coming from.

However, I am certain that God has a plan. I would appreciate your prayers as I prep for a new school year with a new team, work diligently alongside my husband in the church plant, parent four kids, and now go back to school. I want to make sure that I use my time wisely, that I don't have a lot of regrets about how I spend the hours of the day this next year. I tend to be scattered, and I need to find focus. So here I go, both arms up, ready for the roller coaster ride of my life!

Deliverance

The smell of hot rubber and sweaty men assailed my senses as I pulled the door open to the sound of a tinkling bell. The oversized tractor tires were piled higher than my head. I felt like I had entered a scene from "Deliverance." I maneuvered my way through the maze to the back counter. The owner was negotiating a deal for large tractor tires. His accent was deep country redneck. "Well, William, I reckon I could knock 10 more dollers off them thare tires if youse is a gonna mount'em your own self."

I wound up in the dirty tire shop today after a stranger left a note on my car that there was a nail in my tire. When I came out of MacDonalds after lunch, there was the note. The town was small enough that the local wal-mart didn't have a tire department, but it was also a small enough town that the cashier hooked me up with a tire shop.

I had my doubts as I entered the smelly shop, but Sam, the owner, took good care of me. They emptied a bay and pulled my car right in. I guess they don't see a lot of Dallas women in the remote country shop, because all the mechanics took a long smoking break while I was sitting in the shop. They stared at me through the plate glass window like I was a foreign animal on display at the zoo. Not in an interested, attracted way - just like I was an odd novelty.

About an hour later, and $8 poorer, I left the shop and found my way back to the turnpike. After many more hours of driving, and laying hands on my little car, I finally arrived in Kansas City. Unfortunately my car is not excited about traveling through the mountains. It coughed and spluttered its way over each one.

I am registered, settled into an overstuffed chair amongst a crowd of bloggers. I am ready for an amazing night of worship with Phil Wickham. It should be incredible.

What's Up?

Life has been insane for the last several weeks. The end of school is always crazy, just at the same time as church life is ramping up for the summer. Added to this, I am currently teaching full day summer school, and I am one busy lady. So tonight, I wanted to take a few minutes to kind of catch up with where I've been, and what's been going on.

After spending weeks dreading summer school, I am actually enjoying it. It is relaxed, laid back, with no lesson plans or paper work. I show up, pull something amazing and interesting out of my wealth of supplies, and teach 13 kids how to read. I am teaching Kindergarten ESL. It is apparently a Texas requirement that these second language learners are offered 120 hours of language development during the summer. So as long as my teaching falls under the expansive umbrella of "language development" I'm fine.

The biggest adjustment for me is that I have no breaks. As in absolutely none. I supervise them eating breakfast, and lunch, and have recess duty. We are never apart. Although this is great for their language development, it is an exhausting experience for me. It means that my perky teacher personality must always be fully on, without any moments to bring it back down. Tuesday night I was in bed and asleep before 8:00!

I am fully enjoying the people I am working with. One of my favorite ladies from Joe K. Bryant, Kate, is teaching the Pre-K class. I am loving getting to hang out with her. The other Kindergarten teacher, Pablo, is phenomenal. I am awed by his relationship with his students. Both of these colleagues are amazing teachers. It is a privilege to teach alongside them and add to my toolbag of skills.

Since my life is crazy anyway, I've decided to take my fitness up another notch. This makes no sense to me why I decided that now is a good time, but I am not well known for making sense. I am determined to be in the best shape of my life, so that I can have the energy and stamina to follow God's calling on my life. I'm up at 4:30, doing P90X. I am loving it! It's crazy hard, amazingly complex, and leaves my body trashed. However, I am seeing unbelievably quick results in everything from my numbers on the scale to the numbers on the measuring tape, to the height of my vertical jump, to my stamina on my runs. I'm still doing my regular workouts in the evening as well. My energy level is unreal.

My littlest girls are at MeMaw's until Sunday. I am missing them so bad it hurts. James has been hanging out with friends in Anna, leaving Grace the only kid at home with her Dad. I think this may have helped ease him into his summer Daddy Day Care role. He's shown up twice this week at work with treats for me - coffee and Sonic drinks. This is a man who knows how to make me feel loved.

Another noteworthy moment occurred this week. On Wednesday, Shawn and the big kids were at youth, and I wanted to see Ironman 2 (which they've already watched). I went to the movies all by myself for the very first time ever. It was a little weird to turn to whisper comments into my best friend's ear, and he wasn't there. Yet, for the most part, I really enjoyed the time to myself. For a short while, I didn't have to be "on". I could just chill.

I am looking forward to the weekend. Tomorrow I will be 1/4 of the way finished with the summer school gig. It's just 15 more days till summer for me!!!! Yeah!!!!

Spring Time at the Middle School

The car line creeps slowly up the street by the middle school in the afternoon, giving me ample opportunity to observe middle school springtime society in full swing. The trees are green, the grass is lush, and the energy level is high.

The first group of kids hanging out in small clumps are the eighth graders. There are lots of couples, and the flirting is intense enough I can feel the hormone surges from inside my car. Then there are the groups of girls giggling and the boys leaned against the building looking cool.

Next, I drive past the 6th grade boys. They have laid claim to the wide open field and a football. They are oblivious to the romances being played out around them. There are only tackles to be made and a ball to possess. Girls just get in the way of the important things in life.

Against the main building I like to watch the 7th grade boys. These are the kids in transition. They are too cool to play football out front, but I do see them doing crazy things like bush diving. The boys back up, run at full force, and fling themselves into the bushes. Then they act surprised to be injured. A few of the 7th grade boys at this time of year are starting to lean against the building and check out the 6th grade girls on the other side of the sidewalk.

The 6th grade girls are in herds. They completely ignore the boys. "They are just soooo immature." There is lots of giggling and the band girls have out their instruments playing around together.

As I watch the kids each afternoon, I remember those days of seeking to find myself. I remember trying to fit in and decide what sort of person I would become. I remember the strength of the strange emotions hitting me as hormones surged through my inexperienced body. I look at those kids in the afternoons, and realize that even though clothes are cooler and hair is flatter, really, life hasn't changed that much at all. As I drive by to pick up my two oldest, I try to remember how tough those years were and look and listen to my own children with a little more compassion and a little extra respect.

5 year plan

Recently in conversations with other women in their thirties a similar phrase keeps arising. "In my five year plan...." "Within the next five years...." "My goal in five years is....." So I started asking. They really do all have 1, 3, 5, and 10 year plans for their lives. Their ducks are in a row, and they have goals and are taking steps to achieve those goals.

I was totally taken aback. I have no 5 year plan. I have not even contemplated life five years from now. Thinking about it, I guess my son will be a senior, we might be looking at colleges? In fact, I don't even have a 1 year plan. Actually thinking about my plans for the future - tomorrow is mostly planned out.... and Saturday I'm taking Grace to a concert.... and well, I'll be at church on Sunday, and that's as planned as my life gets. Oh - and I will probably teach summer school this year.

Hearing all the other women talk, I am wondering if I should have a plan rather than just living in the moment. I feel weird that it's never even crossed my mind to have a five year plan. I guess I just really have no clue where God wants me to be in five years, so I have felt there is no point in trying to plan. But then again I wonder if this is yet another part of the female gene that I'm missing - maybe it's the same gene that loves to shop and enjoys women only events and cheesy romance movies.

So now I feel peer pressure to create a five year plan. Here it is in a nutshell. I want to be seeking God more and loving Him deeper in 5 years than I am now. That's it. Bottom line. All the other stuff - well, it's just stuff.

Our Big Adventure

This evening Shawn and James headed down to Anna for some manly bonding with some guy friends. Something about shooting guns and eating good food. About dark, I dressed for my run and was trying to decide whether to wait for Shawn to come home or head out. I stay close to home and run by the house several times, and Grace is pretty responsible and old enough to babysit. My only hesitation is that since it was dark, I wanted to take my phone with me and was reluctant to leave the kids without a phone. Ten minutes later I was infinitely thankful that I had not left the girls alone.

I began to smell smoke. Grace had just cooked a couple of pizzas in the oven, so I assumed she forgot to turn off the oven and crud on the burner was sizzling. Here in a minute the girls began screaming from my bedroom. Smoke was pouring from the air vents. I shut off the air conditioner and then did all the wrong, most stupid things you can do if you think your house is on fire.

1. I called Shawn to ask him if he wanted me to call the fire department or if he thought I should wait to see if the smoke cleared.

2. I threw open the doors to the closet where the air unit is to see if there were flames. HELLO!!!! What if there had been?

3. I still waited about dialing 911 because I was embarrassed that my house was smoking.

4. I wandered aimlessly around the house in the smoke to see if there was anything I needed to grab. Finally my logical brain kicked in, I realized how stupid I was being, and I walked out to wait on the fire department.

5. My children cleared to the front yard, came back in twice looking for me, and when I went outside I found them playing in the garage.

The fire department arrived and went into the house suited up. I was not panicked because I was pretty sure it was just the air. However, when a guy from the first truck came out and called for back-up I started to kind of freak out. At that moment I assumed my attic was on fire and the possibility of losing my stuff became a reality. I can honestly say that at that moment as God and I were talking about this, I really did say - with just a second of hesitation - "whatever God, it's just stuff. If this is part of your plan, okay."

Right after the other 2 firetrucks and other emergency vehicles arrived, Tammie Thompson came sprinting down my street. It was so awesome to see a familiar face. She took the kids to her car parked down the street. It was nice to know that if my house was on fire, I wasn't going to have to deal with it alone. After a few minutes, several of my neighbors also wandered out into the street. I had the opportunity to meet several of them for the first time.

It turned out to be the fan on the A.C. It was smoking and throwing sparks. Fortunately it threw off a lot of smoke to warn us that there was a problem. The fireman made sure everything was safe and brought in big fans to blow the smoke out. I appreciated their kindness in dealing with us. It is good to know that if there was a really big emergency, they have a pretty fast response time.

Tonight we are camping out in the playroom that has a separate air conditioner. I guess tomorrow we will be looking for an air guy. I'm just glad have my own house tonight.

So obviously some valuable lessons learned from this one.

*I will not EVER leave the kids home without a phone.
*I need to practice a firedrill with my children on a regular basis. Where do you go? Don't come back into the house, etc. - do some surprise drills also - so that in the real deal, they have the correct survival instincts - and establish a meeting place and remind them often so they are not waiting for me in the garage ever again.
*If I am ever in the situation again, I would exit immediately and call 911. The 10-15 minutes I spent trying to shut off the air unit and calling Shawn could have been the difference between keeping and losing my house. STUPID
*I stupidly started checking the source of the smoke before I made sure my children were in a safe location. I assumed they knew what to do. Make sure you take your children out and stay with them. Their safety is way more important than any crap you might lose in a fire.

On a positive note - It was huge for me to realize that I could have lost it all tonight and been okay. I sincerely prayed "it's just stuff." I say that often, but deep down I thought I was lots more attached to what I own. But tonight I was not concerned about all my junk. It is freeing to know that my stuff doesn't own me anymore. I would have been sad about my pictures, some family heirlooms, a few sentimental items like my Bible and some of the kid's stuff. It would certainly be hard to start over, but I wasn't panicked about the stuff. And that was cool. It was almost like I passed some sort of test.

On a funnier note - I kept thinking crazy stuff like, "I'm sure glad I washed the dishes," and "I hope the beds are made." Because these are the important things to be concerned about as firemen tromp through your house? Like any of that would matter if it was a real fire?

One last helpful hint - if your wife ever calls you to say the house is on fire, it's typically good protocol to eat your burger in the car as you are speeding home to your wife, instead of staying to finish it at the restaurant. But the cool part about Shawn's lack of panic is that his thought track was identical to mine, "It's just stuff." That is huge growth for both of us from this time a year ago.

saying good bye to an old friend

Yep, tonight I said good-bye to an old and dear friend.
About a year ago, I struck out on a road trip with a buddy of mine. We were headed to "Rock the Desert." It is a two day, in the heat, hard rockin', head bangin', Christian concert. We were on our way when I realized I had no sunglasses.

I have always owned brown sunglasses. Invisible, blend in with the crowd.... very me. We stopped at a gas station, and I decided to go ahead and grab a new pair while we were there. Nothing invisible and blendy in with the crowdy kind of thing. The best thing I found was this atrocious pair of white sunglasses. With BLING!!!! I don't do BLING!!! Seriously.

I tolerated them all weekend, and even thought I might keep them after I got home. Well, after searching for my brown sunglasses, which never reappeared, I just kept using the white ones. Reluctantly due to the bling. Until they finally grew on me and became a permanent fixture on my head. Recess Duty? White Sunglasses. Driving to my new job in Anna? White Sunglasses. Block parties meeting new friends? White Sunglasses. Community outreach events? White Sunglasses. Roadtrips with friends? White Sunglasses. Mexico mission trips? White Sunglasses. Easter Egg Drop? White Sunglasses.

These glasses that I hated became a signature piece of my wardrobe. I was horrified tonight when I opened my purse and the side had been totally snapped off, broken beyond repair. I briefly considered duct tape. But am pretty sure Shawn is going to veto that one. I guess I am in the market for a new pair of sunglasses. I am just going to miss all the memories of the best year of my life that the white ones triggered every time I put them on.