MASH and other February Favorites.

The weekend after Valentine’s Day, I hosted a casual get-together at my house, a moms’ night in. There were a dozen or so of us, a mix of women from work and church, sisters and friends of friends. I bought all the Galentines decorations that Target had – everything heart-shaped and sparkly and pink – and a MASH game pad that turned out to be one of the highlights of the night.

Between sips of rosé and bites of macarons and mini cheesecakes, we filled out the templates with cars and cities, crushes and number of children.

In elementary school, when I played this last, it seemed like anything was possible. But when you already have 3 kids, is there really an option but to go up? I wrote 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7, and breathed a sigh of relief when I got to cross off the latter three numbers, though I was truly bummed when the Mercedes G-wagen got booted off my cars list.

We went around and read our MASH outcomes out loud. Two of the girls both ended up married to Chris Pratt – sister wives – except that one got the mansion while the other got the shack. Someone ended up living in Positano; another girl driving a Toyota Highlander. I laughed out loud when I read mine because even with all of the possible options, I got, almost exactly, the life I wanted – David, three kids, a mansion, a career as an interior designer, and a reasonable, unpretentious, VW Atlas.

When I texted the photo of it to my husband (“You made the cut!”), he replied, “Yes! Phew. The G-wagen definitely would have come with Bradley Cooper, though. Too bad.”

That MASH sheet is one of my new favorite things. I saved it, in a box next to my vision board for 2019. A small, serendipitous reminder – the future is bright and the present is exactly what it should be.

Other February faves:

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+ The McGee & Co store. The fact that it’s next to Sidecar Doughnuts just seals the deal. I want everything, of course, but the Seoul wall clock and Holzer mirror are currently topping my house decor list. Chloe Hearts Art was in store doing sketches when I went, which was a bonus.

+ Khan Academy Kids. Khan Academy does such a great job with their teaching videos, and the boys love this app.

+ HP Tango Printer. Being able to print remotely from my phone, get ink automatically delivered, and have unlimited photo printing absolutely tilted our lives in favor of more efficient.

+Sleeping At Last Enneagram EIGHT podcast. The Sleeping At Last podcast is always such an great listen because of Ryan’s creative process behind the songs. This episode explored a little bit the difference between transparency and vulnerability, which was interesting.

+Elise Joy’s free daily goal tracker. This reminds me in a very visual and tactile sense that the year is made up of days, and every bubble filled in marks progress.

+Last, but not least, books!: Becoming by Michelle Obama was my book club’s pick for this month. Next month, we’re reading All You Can Ever Know: A Memoir. I started I’ll Be Gone in the Dark: One Woman’s Obsessive Search for the Golden State Killer, which I’m simultaneously terrified by and hooked on. I finally read some Anne Lamott – Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son’s First Year – and Phileena Heuertz’s new book, Mindful Silence: The Heart of Christian Contemplation is on my nightstand.

January: Hope and a Future.

Over and over this month, I’ve seen references to the book of Jeremiah. Hannah Brencher, my patron saint for this season, wrote a post about Jeremiah 30, “The city will be rebuilt on her ruins.” I’ve seen references in sermon notes and in books I’m reading. I’ve seen Jeremiah mentioned so many times that I’m wondering if this is foreshadowing – we’re going to have a 4th boy, and in the tradition of Bible names that end in -ah, we’re going to name him Jeremiah.

2019, and my people.

2019, and my people.

I’m kidding. I think.

But I do take January seriously – blank slate and all that. January is one of my favorite months of the year. That hasn’t changed. The thing that has changed is how hard it’s been to come up with goals for this year, in light of the next ten.

2019 is the last year of the “teens,” the last year before an entirely new decade. So how do I take this year and make it count a decade from now? And how do I take those dreams and distill progress into one year?

Right before our annual family New Year’s retreat, I wrote my goals. Then twenty-something days into the new year, I re-wrote them. And I realized that my goals weren’t just goals. They were prayers. And that “hope and a future” isn’t a checklist. It’s a promise. And after the promise is an invitation – to come, to pray, to seek.

These are a few books, etc. that are lighting that path for me:

Word By Word: A Daily Spiritual Practice – I ADORE this book. Reading it feels like she’s been going through my mail. It all applies.

Boundaries for Your Soul – Such an important book for healing from hard things.

The Rock That is Higher: Story as Truth – Madeleine L’Engle is probably my favorite writer, and I’m learning so much from this book.

A Light So Lovely: The Spiritual Legacy of Madeleine L’Engle – Thinking and planning for the next ten years has me going down the legacy/memoir/biography alley.

Always Enough, Never Too Much – My favorite devotional book right now – I’m re-reading it. And Jess Connolly’s All Good Things Collective came out with an Enneagram line that is so good.

It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way – This book, and the Proverbs 31 study that go along with it, are game-changers for me in this season. So thankful for Lysa’s wrestling and her words.

First, Be a Follower – This is a Bible study, and not a book (see: Come Matter Here), but it has helped me to dive into truth in the best ways. If you’re looking for a study, I would start with this one.

One Word for 2019: Light

‘Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond all measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.’ We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? you are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
— Marianne Williamson
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If I’m honest, I’ve come into the new year a bit jaded and uncharacteristically hardened. That’s not the person that I want to be. And so, an antidote –

My word for the year: light.

Light as in seeing the light, speaking the light, shining light. More than anything, I want this to be a year of looking for God’s hand and seeing His grace. A year of noticing the gifts and seeking out the Giver. A year of cultivating warmth, positivity, and encouragement and surrounding myself with people who do the same. A year of journeying with my boys as they learn to shine their own small, but significant lights.

Light as in unburdened, light of heart, minimal. I want this to be a year of not holding onto what I am not meant to carry. A year of letting go of baggage, both literal and emotional. A year of few things – only what we need and only what we love.

Light as in sunshine streaming through the windows, sunsets on the beach and the glow given off of a fire pit around which we gather in Adirondack chairs making s’mores.

Light as in the opposite of dark. Because darkness in people, circumstances, our environment cannot always be avoided, I want this to be the year of looking for light in the dark places, the places where things are not what they should be. A year of “wak[ing] up with great expectation of these little reminders of God’s goodness.”

I’m beginning this year with Marilyn McEntyre’s book, Word by Word: a Daily Spiritual Practice, and in it she writes:

I invite you to discover, as I have, to my lasting delight, how words may become little fountains of grace. How a single word may open wide wakes of meaning and feeling. How a single word may, if you hold it for a while, become a prayer.

Light – my 2019 prayer and practice.

Looking back on 2018.

How much was a product of our decisions, and how much was in the cards all along?
— Lisa Gungor, The Most Beautiful Thing I’ve Seen

Truth be told, I’d rather look ahead than look back. I could write a book about the lessons I learned, the mistakes I made, all the ways that I failed, but in the spirit of #2018bestnine, I’m grateful for these nine “bests.”

The highlight: the news and the birth of our third baby boy and the end of being pregnant. Our favorite getaway: The Beach Lodge. Best financial goal hit: paying off my grad school loan. Best habit: recalibrating with the Intentional Living Worksheet every month. Favorite house project completed: turning our loft into a “movie theater”. Best fitness goal completed: hitting a 60-day Peloton streak while I was 8/9 months pregnant. Best relationship practice: regular date nights and business meetings with my hubs. Favorite family goal: intentional monthly adventures, like Disneyland, with the boys.

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… and, of course, the books I finished reading this year (not including the huge stack on my nightstand that I’ve started), my favorites in bold.

  1. A Simplified Life: Tactical Tools for Intentional Living by Emily Ley

  2. Hello Sunshine: A Novel by Laura Dave

  3. Touch by Courtney Maum

  4. Love Your Life, Not Theirs: 7 Money Habits for Living the Life You Want by Rachel Cruze

  5. Rich People Problems by Kevin Kwan

  6. The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg

  7. Our Tiny Useless Hearts by Toni Jordan

  8. The Light We Lost by Jill Santopolo

  9. Fitness Junkie by Lucy Sykes & Jo Piazza

  10. Do Not Become Alarmed by Maile Meloy

  11. At Home in the World: Reflections on Belonging While Wandering the World by Tsh Oxenreider

  12. An American Marriage: A Novel by Tayari Jones

  13. Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

  14. The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin

  15. The Path Between Us: An Enneagram Journey to Healthy Relationships by Suzanne Stabile

  16. Reading People by Anne Bogel

  17. You Think It, I’ll Say It by Curtis Sittenfeld

  18. Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone by Brene Brown

  19. You are a Writer by Jeff Goins

  20. When Life Gives You Lululemons by Lauren Weisberger

  21. A Lady’s Guide to Selling Out: A Novel by Sally Franson

  22. Off the Clock: Feel Less Busy by Getting More Done by Laura Vanderkam

  23. Girl, Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis

  24. The Sacred Enneagram: Finding Your Unique Path to Spiritual Growth by Chris Heuertz

  25. Pilgrimage of a Soul: Contemplative Spirituality for an Active Life by Phileena Heuertz

  26. Come Matter Here: Your Invitation to Be Here in a Getting There World by Hannah Brencher

  27. The Meaning of Marriage by Timothy Keller

  28. How Not to Hate Your Husband After Kids by Jancee Dunn

  29. Be the Gift: Let Your Broken Be Turned Into Abundance by Ann Voskamp

  30. What Comes Next and How to Like It: A Memoir by Abigail Thomas

  31. Begin Again: The Brave Practice of Releasing Hurt and Receiving Rest by Leeana Tankersley

  32. Tell Me More: Stories About the 12 Hardest Things I’m Learning to Say by Kelly Corrigan

  33. The Marriage You’ve Always Wanted by Gary Chapman

  34. What I Talk About When I Talk About Running: A Memoir by Haruki Murakami

  35. The Most Beautiful Thing I’ve Seen: Opening Your Eyes to Wonder by Lisa Gungor

  36. The Road Back to You: An Enneagram Journey to Self-Discovery by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile

  37. Nine Perfect Strangers by Liane Moriarty

  38. Uninvited by Lysa TerKeurst

  39. Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved by Kate Bowler

  40. The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying by Nina Riggs

  41. Girl Meets God: On the Path to a Spiritual Life by Lauren Winner

  42. Design Your Day: Be More Productive, Set Better Goals, and Live Life on Purpose by Claire Diaz-Ortiz

  43. Cozy Minimalist Home: More Style, Less Stuff by Myquillyn Smith

  44. The Hypnotist’s Love Story by Liane Moriarty

  45. We Were Mothers: A Novel by Katie Sise

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2018 was beautiful and surprising and I won’t forget it, but I’m also glad it’s almost behind me. I’m already so excited about 2019 and what we have lined up – our annual new year’s family beach retreat, an Exhale writing workshop, the getaway that we just booked for our anniversary this summer, and a new house… maybe? So many things! Here’s to a blank slate and a new chapter. See you in 2019.

Do You Hear What I Hear.

Said the night wind to the little lamb // Do you see what I see // Way up in the sky little lamb // Do you see what I see // A star, a star // Dancing in the night // With a tail as big as a kite // With a tail as big as a kite

For my 31st birthday, in December of last year, our family stayed at the German Schmear house in Waco, Texas. For fans of Fixer Upper, this house is a favorite – rustic Texas meets French provincial meets West Elm. Max Lucado’s daughter and son-in-law own this house, and in the master bedroom is a beautiful custom art piece of the blessing that he spoke at their wedding.

For a few days, it is our home away from home. We huddle on the couch in matching family pjs – dark green plaid Hearth & Hand union suits. I happen to have my phone in hand, when Judah, my 11-month old, takes his first steps. He stands first, looking around. I start recording at the same time my heart skips a beat – I know I’ll want to remember this. He takes one small step, then uses his other leg like a lever, swinging it forward straight and strong, his tiny, round face set in bulldog determination. We’re watching now, all of us, and cheering.

“Keep going, bud! You’re walking!”

We watch the video later, and my voice is the loudest one. I see you, big guy, I’m saying. I see you.

Said the little lamb to the Shepherd boy // Do you hear what I hear // Ringing through the sky Shepherd boy // Do you hear what I hear // A song, a song // High above the trees // With a voice as big as the sea // With a voice as big as the sea

We flew into Dallas on a late flight, navigating around the boys’ bedtimes, so we could have an extra night in the German Schmear house.

It is the worst flight I have ever been on. The winter weather is just stormy enough to cause turbulence, and before landing, we make three loops, each plummeting in intervals so hard and so fast that women are screaming prayers and children around us are crying. In my head, I pray, Lord, help us survive this. Out loud, I whine cry to my husband, trying to hide my fear, “Why can’t we just land already?”

The boys, miraculously, sleep through the entire thing.

We disembark, and shakily collect our bags. Outside, as we wait for the rental car shuttle, the rain begins, softly at first, then harder. We’re from Southern California – in other words, unprepared. The boys are awake now. The shuttle arrives, and we squeeze in, cold and wet, when we hear out of the speakers, the Revelation song.

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty. Who was, and is, and is to come.

“Do you hear that?” says Noah.

He recognizes the words from Revelation 4:8, his first memory verse.


Said the Shepherd boy to the mighty king // Do you know what I know // In your palace wall mighty king // Do you know what I know // A child, a child // Shivers in the cold // Let us bring him silver and gold // Let us bring him silver and gold

We must have caught a bug from the airplane travel.

We were sick for three weeks straight. It started as an upper respiratory virus that turned into an ear infection that morphed into bronchitis. We missed three Christmas parties, including one at Nobu (insert all the wailing face emojis here). Noah skipped entire weeks of preschool that we paid for, including his first Christmas chapel. We didn’t make it to Disneyland, where we promised the boys we would go for Judah’s 1st birthday, in lieu of a party.

Instead, we lay huddled in bed, the four of us, shivering and clinging to each other for warmth.

We were together. I forget the rest, wrote Walt Whitman.

Said the king to the people everywhere // Listen to what I say // Pray for peace people everywhere // Listen to what I say // The child, the child // Sleeping in the night // He will bring us goodness and light // He will bring us goodness and light

We’re at the nativity lighting at our church. The scene is high on a hill next to the 5 freeway, in South Orange County, a Christmas reminder to the thousands of cars that pass daily. We’ve seen it in passing, but never up close. After the service, I’m handed a candle that I almost don’t take because I have a one year old on my hip and a three year old ready to impale himself on a candy cane. We wait, and wait, and wait. We are cold, and the mulled cider that was boiling hot when it was poured is now lukewarm at best.

Finally, the lights come on. Impatience turns into wonder. At the top of the hill, the wisemen, the shepherds, Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus glow, colorful and bright.

Now, December 2018, a year later, and we have another baby boy, our happy surprise.

December, 2018.

December, 2018.

We’re celebrating Judah’s 2nd birthday now – we give him the choice between an indoor playground and the beach, and future surfer boy that he is, he chooses the beach. It’s December in Southern California – in other words: sunny, clear, 70 degrees. A dreamily perfect day. We drive down streets with wreaths on the lampposts, and after lunch on the pier and ice cream for dessert, we stop at a ceramics shop.

We’ve come here before, for each of the boys to have impressions done. Today, Judah chooses a horse to paint, like Spirit, his favorite show. We have our last baby boy’s six week hand and foot impressions done. We’re loading the boys into the car seats to head home when we hear the bells  from the church nearby playing O Come, O Come Emmanuel.

Do you hear what I hear.

When we’ve stopped to notice, we see the signs that Christmas is coming. We find the season strung with hope –  where we’ve looked, and when we’ve listened.

God meets us where we are. The place of first steps. The place of fear. The place of sickness. The place of awe. The place of celebration. And into these places, he brings us goodness and light, preparing our hearts for His Christmas gift.