I live in a hotel by myself on the edge of a field and I spend my Saturdays drinking cinnamon coffee and watching the snow fall.

I think, how did I get so lucky to be here?

I breathed through a panic attack in a room full of Christian women on Wednesday night. I left that house sobbing so hard I couldn't see the road to drive. I cried to God.  And what I feel like he's been telling me since then is that my life doesn't have to look like the other women's lives at my church. That I have my own special relationship with him, and my own gifts from him, and if it looks different than theirs does, it's okay.

Being childless is a gift, just as children are a gift.
Being single is a gift, just as much as marriage.

This hotel is my gift. My family is such a gift. Stretching out and rolling over and not having to take care of children on Saturday is a good gift.

the end of January

It changes my whole attitude to have flowers on my desk.
To have my nails painted.
To have my own house each weekend.
Getting accounting problems correct.
Running miles.

God is so good and I've been reading little love notes He leaves around.

am i doing it right

I've been thinking of Custer, this week. George Armstrong Custer, and his luck. How he led and was lucky for how long he did not die.

I've been thinking about the extras, in the movie of his life. I've been thinking of those extras, those soldiers who die suddenly in the movie due to an arrow. Due to a gunshot. Due to falling from such great heights. We see stunt men, but in real life, they were real men that died suddenly. Who were one moment here, and one moment gone, though their carcass remained. I might be an extra in someone's movie. A soldier, certainly.

And how do we sleep, knowing this. That we will be here one moment, and another moment we will be meeting our Creator.

The mix of fear and love for my savior and my God is terrifying. But that's the way that I like to keep Love.

Underneath the morning sheets     My skin is tangled in between      Sun is peaking through the blanket holes      Don't you wish you were there?

patrick watson

Every one is posting those Instagram pictures of their year, but none of my Instagrams can say what actually happened in 2015.

Feb '15:
Started my new job at W--
Went to Vegas with Caitlan.
Broke up with N---.

Mar '15:
Cried and Drank.

April '15:
Cried and Drank.

May '15:
I wake up to a text from Celisse that one of our friends died. My first thought was, I wish I could take her place and go be with Jesus. I realize I need help and call the doctor.

After 26 years of fighting my anxiety and pessimism, I finally give in and the doctor prescribes something good.

I start hiking with Katie. I start having ideas again. I start to like God, again.
I get up in the morning, simply because it is a happy time, being alive. Where has this been all my life? Why did I wait? What would college have been like with such a sunny outlook? What would it have been like to not spend my bus rides crying?

June '15:
Seriously, where was this drug? I'm singing again. Laughing again. I have energy to go to parties and I LOVE EVERYONE.

July '15:
Just happy, all the time. Hiking. Running. Tubing down rivers.

August '15:
Lost 20lbs of break up weight. Started dating.

September '15:
Realized I'm in love with someone new that I am not dating.

October '15:
Trip with siblings to Portland and Seattle. Beautiful. Four days of laughing, and rain, and beaches, and trees and waterfalls, and a tiny house, and a strange hotel.

November '15:
Fall out of love with guy I'm not dating. Go on date with Christian dentist instead. Much safer.

December '15:
Look around at all the snow and wonder what's next.

Now: 
No more dates, no more dreams. Just plans and goals.