Why You Should Quit Parenting!

For the majority of her life, she has been completely complete watching her siblings bathe in the lime light. She has watched Katie perform in dance after dance, play after play, skit after skit. She's watched Lucy melt an entire auditorium like putty in her hands, and Anderson's birth order and stand alone maleness, always catches somebody's eye. She has cheered each of them on, sat on the edge of her sit shaking on their behalf, and jumping to her feet in applause for them. Julia has always preferred the behind the scenes work.

Last fall, Julia's second grade teacher assigned the entire class to give a memorized oral book report, to be given in front of an audience in the school auditorium. Horrified, doesn't begin to express how she was feeling, "Why?! Why?! Why?! Would a teacher make me do such a thing? This is not fair!" After weeks of her teachers patiently working with each child in the class, and her rehearsing every night with me and Mark on articulating her thoughts, the big day arrived and she.... FREAKED OUT! I pulled out every bribe in the parent handbook. Candy? SURE! Ice Cream? Uh, YEAH! No chores? ABSOLUTELY! Just get through the presentation.  We knew she was definitely ready, but we had not convinced her of that yet.

That day, for the first time in her life (with a few dance performances as the exception) SHE was being watched by our entire family. Her little hands were shaking and she had to intentionally get control of her rattling voice, but once she settled down the most amazing thing took place, her confidence began to override the nerves and she blossomed. She smiled that million dollar smile and right then and there, I melted.

A few short months later, she announced she was trying out for the school talent show, her talent? Singing. "Well, okay. Here we go!"  She rehearsed, she rehearsed and she rehearsed some more, and then the big day arrived and she FREAKED OUT! Back to the bribe book, "No, you never have to do the talent show again, but because you have made a commitment to sing tonight, you will follow through on your commitment. We want you to be a woman of your word! Other people have worked extremely hard to make tonight happen and we will honor their hard work by showing up and following through!"

She showed up, she sang, and YEP.... I melted.

For the last eleven years, I count it my greatest job to find my children. While I instinctively love them with every fiber in my body, it has taken focused time and effort to KNOW them.  It is one of the main reasons I love homeschooling. It has given me an opportunity to figure how each of my children learn. It is a focused time of collecting data on their souls. Katie is an auditory learner, Julia is a kinesthetic learner, Lucy is a visual learner, and Anderson is an aural learner. Utterly fascinating and COMPLETELY helpful when they start brick and mortar school.

I feel like when I am available to learn about the different idiosyncrasies planted in each of my children, I am in a better place to love them and know them.

This last year in particular, I have struggled with the absolute pit of a room Julia lives in. It blows my mind how "undone" and jiblet infested it can become in a matter of minutes. And it appears as if she doesn't even see the mess, but only sees all the "creations". I literally had to call on all the "creatives" in my life as a support group. "Please explain to me what her brain is doing and seeing a midst this tornado!" While none of them "excused" her mess, they helped me understand what her brain was doing. It was extremely helpful and therapeutic to realize one day she WOULD in fact keep a
clean-ish space, but to keep channeling that creative mind. Julia sees projects, creations, and art every where she goes. For instance, we semi-camped out over Labor Day, and Julia threw a plastic cup into the fire (cover your ears EPA spies-lalalalalala) as she saw it melting she hollered for Mark to pull it out of the fire. They pulled it out, ran it under cold water and VOILA! A new, red, solo cup creation!

Julia struggles with phonics and spelling (just like her Mama)... So this week in preparation of the spelling test, we are painting our words. We tried going over them verbally (which I should have known was a mistake, and we bombed the last test) So, we are approaching it differently.

Yesterday, feeling very saintly, I cleaned up Julia's room and stood in awe of all the amazing creations her little room was exploding with. Old ornaments made into necklaces, name tags made with ripped up old material, glue and cookie sprinkles. Shorts that were decorated with blue ties in support of her panthers, white piece of paper after white piece of paper covered in crayon, marker, and paint. Instead of huffing and puffing like I have in the past, I just tried to soak in her art and appreciate her gifting. I am not bent towards "crafting" I'd rather write a 12 page paper about crafting than actually craft :)

Julia likes to craft and create!

Katie is going to run the world.
Julia is going to decorate the world.
Lucy is going to entertain the world.
Anderson is going to conquer the world.

Saturday night, I was tucking Bean (Julia) into bed when she announced, "Oh yeah Mom, tomorrow at church, I'm going to get up during the service and be interviewed about Pioneer Girls!" My insides dropped, envisioning the scene to take place the next morning, Sunday morning OF ALL MORNINGS! I thought about what I had packed away that I could potentially bribe her with to get her up on the stage. "Ok, love, you'll totally rock it!"

Sunday morning came and she didn't make a peep about the impending event. I was praying she was having short term memory loss :) We sat down and the service began. A few minutes later it was her turn. She jumped up, walked straight down the church aisle without hesitation, answered each question with articulate, clear and confident answers (and lots of "yes ma'ams".... phew not voted off the island yet :) and smiled that million dollar smile for all to see. Not a single melt down involved.

In the middle of the interview, I glanced down the pew.  Katie, Lucy and Anderson were sitting on the edge of the pew, every ounce of them engaged with what Julia was saying, smiling nervous smiles bigger than I've ever seen them smile, and they jumped all over Julia with applause at the end of the service (five minutes later in the church parking lot they were fighting again. REAL.LIFE! :)

Julia was far from working behind the scenes on Sunday.

My eyes got all teary as I thought about all the blossoming our Jules has done over this last year. There is NO DOUBT in my mind that her confidence, and her ability to articulate her thoughts, have come from the unending encouragement and example her teacher instilled in her this last school year. We are so grateful!!

Parenting is hardest, most long suffering, most everyday, most dig-deep and grunt out the details kind of work. Yesterday, I retired. Today, I reenlisted for this CRAZINESS.  Getting to be apart of the dailiness in my children's lives will fill the museum of my mind and heart for remainder of my days. It's not easy AT ALL, it's not always fun and rosy (especially as we transition into hormone invested waters) but I just weep when I think about my babies. Their specific gifting, their bents, their strengths, their weaknesses, their learning styles, and how God saw fit for Mark and I to be able to taste them, research them, love them, guide them, and ultimately KNOW THEM for a life time!

Don't give up parents!
Don't quit!
We only get to raise them ONCE!
We only get to absorb them for a short amount of time before the dailiness is over.
Whether you have a world runner, world decorator, world entertaining, or world conqueror, press in to your children. Lean into them and uncover the amazing treasures that lie within.
It's so unbelievably worth it!
~Sara

Dear French Camp, Revisited.....

One of the most profound quotes on my life is a quote by Jim Elliott, "Wherever you are, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God."

Hmmm..hmmm..hmmm. DELICIOUS!

Because we have been given the sweet opportunity to live in 7 different communities in the last 13 years, this quote should have been my theme song, and yes, you guessed it, should be tattooed to my body! :)

When you are thousands of miles away from your "home" there is a temptation to despair in the "what ifs, and if onlys." "If only we were home for the holidays. If only we could just hop in the car and drive to dad's. If only we were back in THAT church. If only THIS school did it like THAT school. If only our friends were like THOSE friends. What if we lived closer to home? What if we lived closer to so-and-so?" Joining yourself to a new community is by far one of the hardest relationship minefields we are called to.

It took several swings and misses, but I feel like I am finally beginning to understand how to intertwine myself into a new place. My secret; BE ALL THERE!! Jump! Both feet in! Don't hesitate! The longer you stand on the sidelines and watch, the longer your heart is able to breed discontentment and isolation. And I believe whole hardheartedly, that isolation is the gateway to bitterness, depression, and deep, deep struggle. When we think we are all alone waging war on the lies that seek to fill our hearts, it is nearly impossible to mute those lies without an army of people feeding us truth.

Bottom line; FIND YOUR PEOPLE!! I don't care if you are deployed for 6 months, or moving some where for 60 years, FIND YOUR PEOPLE. Join that Mama's Morning Out, attend that community wide BBQ, hit up the local city-wide pub crawl, visit that new church, conquer that WOD at that awesome cross fit gym. Take a chance and go to that life group you've been invited too. Or even better.... MEET YOUR NEIGHBORS! (Good news for me, all my neighbors have had background checks and fingerprints taken. I think they are safe enough. Except those ladies across the street... sketchy :)

The only thing eternal that is coming with us from this life to the next, is RELATIONSHIPS! Not that beautiful home, not those mad soccer skills, not that bank account, not that chiseled body, not that gorgeous new sanctuary, not that seminary degree, not that congregation, not that PHD, not that business...NONE.OF.IT.

Relationships.

This last year, Mark and I have desired to be all here in French Camp. I'm not going to lie, it's not been as easy as I anticipated. But it has been far, far, richer than I could have ever dreamed!

When our family and friends "sent us off" to Mississippi, they repeatedly prayed for us and over us, that the Lord would use us WHEREVER we were planted. My dad wrote this in his goodbye letter, "Believe it or not, I am relieved that God is calling you to Mississippi and not to Madagascar at this time in your lives. This book (Unfinished) is a great reminder of what all of us are to be about doing wherever God sends us. You guys are a great "kingdom family" so go with my blessing and "let your light shine for all the world to see!" I love you, Dad

Side note: write your children letters! They will carry them with them for the rest of their lives.

*sigh*

My dad lives out the beautiful and powerful "light" of being in constant relationship. I promise, five minutes in the man's presence and he will instantly become "YOUR PEOPLE"..

This community of French Camp, has captured our hearts and y'all have become "OUR PEOPLE"
Our hearts are FOR the people of this community!

I spent this last school year on the PTO of FCE and let me tell you, these people and their stories are becoming our people and our stories.

We've talked before about how French Camp can be a complicated beast of a place. The peanut butter and jelly of this town often intersects in beautifully-messy and strategically-stretching ways. But for real, I feel like I am drinking in gallons of hope.

Let me tell you about a little brick building that is about to burst forth and let its' light shine. Let me tell you about a camp of the french, that while seemingly is Mayberry-esque from the outside, has scars, wounds and needs just like every other town in this world. Let me tell you about a conversation where pew- warming is transformed into people-pouring. Let me tell you what God is doing in this town!

Bricks is her name,
Relationships are her game.
A safe place is her goal,
Community involvement is the pull.

The Bricks Family, would LOVE to come in person and tell you ALL about what is bubbling beneath the surface of our growing smiles of excitement. Churches, sewing circles, lunch-ins, hunting clubs, government officials, schools, community organizations, other ministries, local businesses, and every person in this town; we want to tell you our story!

First, go explore our website.(bricksfc.org)
Second, go "like" Bricks on FB.
Third, schedule a time for us to come and tell this DELICIOUS story of hope!

I've been chewing on this passage a lot as my heart is processing what God is doing here in our community:

"We will replace the broken bricks of ruin with smooth stones" Isaiah 9:10

Our God is ALWAYS at work. Our God is always pursuing a people to call His own. Our God is in the business of redeeming broken lives, repaving painful roads, refining a people for Himself and replacing ruin with real hope.

Wait are you waiting for?
BE ALL HERE!
SPREAD THE WORD!
Call a sista and schedule a meeting!
Share this link!
Like our page!
AND.......
Tell your friends at Leonards!

~Sara
(For the Bricks Family)

Happy Birthday, Bug!

As a baby she hated to be held. She just wanted to be laid on the ground so that she could move and explore. At first I thought I was doing something wrong, (like all first time moms) but I quickly discovered it was just her way. Last night, her daddy and I were visiting in the living room when her eleven year old, almost five foot self crawled up in my lap. Her Larry Littlejohn legs draped over the chair while she nestled her head in the crook of my neck. How did did we get here? This amazing creature came from a single cell in the depths of my womb eleven years ago, and here she sits completely and utterly, ALL.GROWN.UP.  Her soul, her body and her mind the most awe-inspiring site to behold. We are crossing over from little girl to young woman and really, at the end of the day, when she curls up in my lap like she refused to do as a baby, I think, "we can do this, we can do this tween-teen thing! As long as she keeps coming home to the safety of this place, (and even if she doesn't) we can do this!!"

Katherine Suzanne,

Being your parents is the greatest joy of our entire lives! Watching you own your life, your love for Jesus, your love for others, and your determination for excellence is way too much fun! Everyone should have a Katie Littlejohn in their life! Everyone should be on the receiving end of absorbing such a delight as YOU!! We are proud of you! We are proud of the character and maturity you exhibit on a routine basis! We love all your ways. You keep turning your eyes to Jesus, fill your mind and heart with HIS truth. You keep allowing Him to use you to show love to the 'least of these'. Our hearts and our home will ALWAYS be a safe place for you to land.....

Happy Eleventh Birthday to our favorite STU-ENT!  

~Mama and Daddy

She Didn't Say Goodbye

We are treating the next ten days here in Mississippi, the way my brother and his family treat Boston in the middle of February; we are exposing our skin to the elements as little as possible, running from our car to the nearest building for relief, and privately talking bad about any one who plans outdoor activities during this time of the year. It's a cruel time of year to live in the south. Eleven years ago, I was 39 weeks pregnant waddling around in it. Praise God, that is OVER! :)

Even with the extreme heat plaguing us, the shadows are getting longer and the days are getting shorter. Any time the seasons change, I spend more time than normal thinking about my mom. The woman celebrated each season as if it were her favorite season. Except, she loathed winter but adored Christmas. She was conflicted until January, and then made no bones about her disdain for winter.

This time two years ago, we were faced with horrendous task of placing mom in a nursing home. No family member EVER wants to embrace this reality, but at some point all family members will admit to being unable to give care to someone 24 hours a day, seven days a week without compromising the health and safety of the person who is sick AND the person who is the caregiver. My dad and my two brothers, did an amazing job of caring for my mom for absolutely as long as they could. Medical staff at the nursing home repeatedly commented about how shocking it was that Dad was able to keep mom at home so long. It was a gift.

There are seasons I allow myself the freedom to remember those days, not because I am wallowing in the past, but still processing the actual events themselves. Our brains have this incredible way of protecting our emotions from trauma for a long period of time, until we are actually able to process what took place.

It hit me today that my mom didn't say goodbye to me. We didn't have that inevitable conversation in which she told me everything she wanted to tell me before she could no longer tell me. And somehow we progressed through the stages so quickly, that before she or I realized it, she was no longer able to tell me goodbye. Sometimes when people are diagnosed with Alzheimer's, they write letters, they video themselves, they plan ahead for the time when their minds are no longer true to who they are, and their bodies wait in anticipation to get the memo.

That was not Mom's way. There was actually very little talk between she and I about a time that would come where I would be without her. She knew it. She was no fool. But while there was time, Mama lived. She took every opportunity to retell stories from her life, because there came a time when the past was far clearer to her than the present. She made funny jokes, and pushed all of our buttons just to make sure we were all still who her heart told her we were. We obliged, and often responded in our truest form, especially Zachary :) And Mom took every opportunity to remind us that if this disease was touching her, it had first come through the hands of her God. One day while she was having lunch with me, she reminded me again (there is lots of reminding with Alzheimer's ;) of this truth, to which I replied, "Mama, I know that is true and I believe it with all my heart, but it does not mean that I am not a little pissed about it and a whole lot sad about it!" She burst into tears, "It is shitty" she cried, "Oh, so very shitty, isn't it?!" We held each other and cried, and that was the closest we ever came to saying goodbye.

I can imagine now better than before, that her Mama heart would never let her resign to the fact that she must go on and leave her crew behind. As a mom, my children will always be just that, children. No matter their age or position, I'll always be their Mama and they will always be my children. Children; a word that evokes the need for care and keeping, and what had always been true for her was morphing into something unknown. She had always been the one to care and keep, and now for the first time ever, we were caring and keeping her. But in her own way, she kept caring and keeping us by being diligent to fight and never let us see her forfeit to the disease. Some might call it denial, others preservation :)

And while Mama maybe never officially said goodbye, she left me with an entire life time of memories to remind me of the way she felt about me. There is no doubt in my mind that my mother adored me, and that secretly I was her favorite :) (it's a joke, everyone relax :) My mom sacrificed her entire life to see that we were cared and kept. It wasn't always perfect, and she would be the first to tell you that, but she was there. And everyday, as I wipe the table for the tenth time, sweep the floor for the 5th time, make the 21st first meal in 7 days, fold another load of laundry, chop another onion for ground beef, and wash another dish, I hear her reminding me, "Be here! Live on! Don't miss this!"

Thanks for fighting mom, thanks for living!
All my love,
~Sara

My Name Could Be Robin Williams

A couple weeks ago, I posted a picture to facebook of our time at the ocean and said this, "It is significant to me how the vastness of the ocean makes me feel incredibly, peacefully, insignificant."

My heart has been so heavy and conflicted as of late. Many of you know I'm an avid reader and a partially hydrogenated news junky. As maturity (and many restless nights) has taught me, sometimes we have to turn the news and all the extra noise in our life OFF. Between hearing about the images of fathers holding their beheaded daughters and reading the goodbye letter Zelda William's wrote for her daddy, I feel myself going inward and downward. And thanks to the work of the Holy Skidmore (see instagram), no wait Holy Spirit :)... endless self evaluation tools, and the tribe of people who speak truth into my life; I can see the warning signs of my behavior and I do what I have been taught to do; run to the only person who is so wonderfully, graciously sovereign-- all knowing, and trustworthy; and find the comfort of my insignificance there. I do not speak of an unhealthy insignificance in which one buys the lie that we are worthless and without great value (the price He paid for us is immeasurable); I speak of an identity that is found tightly tucked under the great wings of my Protector. My insignificance is gloriously reflected in His amazing power and might. And I do not know about you, but I desperately need a MIGHTY WARRIOR fighting the battles and lies that seem to be currently plaguing me.

Mark and I have been running to Job 38-40 this week. (Ok, I've been like sprinting for them, devouring them, and panting over them while Mark very lovingly and stably responds, 'those are really good') I love these chapters because it confirms that my God is a literary genius. The way He poetically, gently, and with some delightfully dripping sarcasm, puts sweet Job in his rightful place. These verses wash over me with the same exact feelings that well up in when I stand in the vastness of the ocean.

Here are some of my favorite, give me chill bumps, snippets...

And the Lord replied,
"Job, where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me Job, since you know, who set the measurements of the Earth?
Job, have you ever commanded the morning, and caused the dawn to know its place?
Have the gates of death been revealed to you, or have you seen the gates of deep darkness?
Have you understood the expanse of the earth, tell Me, if you know all this.
Have you entered my storehouses of snow, or have you seen the storehouses of the hail?
From whose womb has come the ice?
And who has given birth to frost?
Can YOU use YOUR voice to command the clouds to pour down rain?
Who can tip the water jars of the heavens?
Are you aware of when the mountain goat gives birth?
Will wild ox consent to serve YOU, or will he spend the night at YOUR manger?
Did YOU give the horse his might? Did YOU clothe his neck with a mane?
At YOUR command do eagles mount up and make their nest on high?
Will you Job, the faultfinder, contend with the Almighty?"

Now if you aren't sitting down, you should, because Job's response is timeless, breath taking, and so RIGHT ON! Because Job's response communicates EXACTLY what I'm feeling today.

Then Job answered the Lord and said," Behold, I am INSIGNIFICANT; what can I reply to You? I lay my hand on my mouth."

When we fill ourselves with the truth about WHO our God is, the richness of ALL of His attributes, and write on the memory cards of our lives ALL the ways He has been faithful to us; our only response is fall on our faces, with our hands over our mouths and worship.

As my friend Mark pointed out this week so eloquently on facebook, at some point in ALL of our lives we will see, understand and feel the awful brokenness of this world and the reality we can do NOTHING about it. But that is only PART of the story. We, I, know a God who is impatiently counting down the days to come rescue His people and right every wrong. Because while a world seems to be spinning out of control:

I KNOW THE END OF THE STORY!
I KNOW WHO WINS!
I KNOW THAT HE ALONE CONQUERS DEATH!
I KNOW THE BATTLE BELONGS TO THE LORD!!!!

And if I didn't, if I didn't stake every claim of HOPE in Him, if every fiber of my being didn't lay hold to the truth that I am His and I am beautifully,significantly insignificant, my name could be Robin.


~Sara

Dear Mama, You Will Never Believe This!!

There is something incredibly vulnerable about sharing your story with someone other than your heart. Four years ago this month, I started this blog in order to be able to communicate to our family and friends the story of my sweet Mama and our family's journey with Alzheimer's. Apparently, it has morphed into something more, and I began to bleed over into different topics I was passionate about. Primarily; my God, my husband, my kids, and our mundane randomness that makes this life uniquely ours. Turns out, that mundane randomness has become my greatest joy, my most precious muse, and my cheapest therapy.

Through your kind words and encouragement, you have allowed me to breathe my life here in this forum. A forum that is as fragile to me as the words and vulnerability I express here. This seemingly vague http has become safe and familiar.

For as long as I can remember, written and spoken word have been an everyday norm of mine. Over the years, I have been given the opportunity to use my words in different categories; acting, debating, singing, teaching, sporting, preaching, instructing, leading, administrating, planning, parenting, coaching, marriaging (it's not a word, I was just trying to keep the 'ing' pattern going) and my favorite, WRITING.

Recently, we talked here on the blog about the intentional purging going on in my heart and life to make more space for what I KNOW I was created to be; a wife, a mom, and a artist. Over the last 32 days of fasting and over indulging, I stand in awe of the path God has paved before me.

One of my intentional areas for property expanding, has been to zero in on my words and try and break through into the great, big world of professional writing. It can be beastly. I took a TWO YEAR course, ten years ago about the ins and outs of magazine publishing, book publishing, etc..etc.. A lot in the world of publishing has changed in the last ten years. A.LOT!

I have kept my writing on an alter of sacrifice before God and begged Him to have His way with it. So often, the answer has been, "not now!" There were days, I told Mark, I felt like a caged lion, knowing deep in my toes that writing was going to be apart of my life forever. But when you are raising four babies into functioning children, manuscripts and magazine submissions take a back burner. And I determined to embrace my role of heart molder (although someday's I reflect heart smoosher) in their daily lives. This blog space has been the perfect outlet to continue to write without the pressures and added stress of a professional audience.

Without any more additional wordiness, I am UNBELIEVABLY pumped to share with you, my dearest friends, family, and readers, that this chica has submitted some of her pontifications to a magazine and *GASP* they want to publish some my work!

Can I tell just tell you what this means to my heart? For a long time, people have been VERY generous with complimenting my art (and that just pours life into my soul) but is feels so surreal to be validated by someone whose world and job is words. For an unbiased voice to say, "Your craft is valuable. Your words are worthy of a forum other than your Mama blog." *sigh*

I've struggled on how to communicate in a humble, but freakishly excited tone, about this opportunity.  So many of you have been published twenty times over, and I think ya'll rock! So I feel selfish and immature celebrating this semi-insignificant moment in my journey. But I'm over that!

I AM SO EXCITED!!!!!
I AM SO EXCITED!!!!!
I AM SO EXCITED!!!!!

Ok, back to humble :)

I wanted you guys to be the first to know, because well, you have journeyed faithfully with me for so long and now you're stuck with me.

When the time is right, I will post everything you need to know about the article. Where it's being published, how you can get your hands on it, and how we can flood this magazine with new subscribers from around the globe.

Some would take the opportunity at this point, to encourage everyone to follow their dreams and never give up. In light of this small moment, I think that's dumb, over stated, and never the goal. People say that when they lack creativity. I have zero desire for you guys to pursue your dreams, because let me tell you, the majority of the life we have been called to live is NEVER, EVER about fulfilling our dreams. Today, I think of my brothers and sisters across the world who are watching their children be beheaded by ISIS, and I can assure you it's far from "dreamy".

However, I can encourage you to lay your specific craft, your precious art, your unique gifting, your undetermined desires, your heart, and most importantly your life on an alter of sacrifice before our Great God, and plead with Him to have His way with you. Warning: rarely does that lead you down a road covered with blooming roses, rather a road you never walk alone.

I started this blog to communicate with each of you the non-dreamy road my Mom and family had been called to walk. It is not lost on me that while she does not live and breath the air I live and breath, she is not at all absent from this undertaking. Her sweet fingerprints are all over it, and it is only right that my first "big, girl" published article, be about non-other than my Mama, and all the truths she molded into me.

Thank you for coming along side of me, (of us) and celebrating this super, exciting moment in the life of my writing!

Here's to all the crafting He has in store for us!
~Sara

Maybe Mississippi is a Mistake (A year later)

In preparation of moving back to the south, I wrote THIS blog feeling insecure and inadequate in my not so southern ways. Today, I got such a giggle rereading it.

One year ago today, our Penske truck rolled all up into this quaint Camp of the French.

What a year!

When we set our sights on French Camp, we had ONE thing in mind; our children. For the first time in our entire parenting process we were able to make a moving decision solely based on what was best for the future of our kids. Up until last year, our history of relocating surrounded our desire to be in full time camp and conference ministry, Mark's schooling, Mark's commitment to the DOD, and our absolute determination to be in Kansas with my Mama for as long as she took a breath. Moving to a place where our kids could grow up more like we did was alluring. The opportunities our children have here we could have never offered them in a big city. The space and time our children are gifted here is seemingly magical. The absolute access to the beauty of God's creation (even if the pine trees make me claustrophobic from time to time) is endless.

As I mentally recap the pros and cons of our first year in French Camp, my heart continually returns to the precious moments my children have been given. The growth I saw in each of them astounds me as they were given the mental, emotional, and physical space to blossom. I'm so proud of them! And the balance we were seeking in given them more time away from the single voice of their mother, proved to be the perfect ingredient in solidifying our relationship with one another. Bottom line, I'm a better mom because of the space. Period.

In addition to watching my kids blossom, I have seen their sweet daddy settle into a rhythm of freedom. From back yard BON FIRES, to long four wheeler rides, to projects galore on a home he can call his own, I've seen him dream more in this last year than in a very long time. My heart swells with an unparalleled pride because I get to call him mine.

No move to any place on this planet comes without ugly tears and moments of regret. And trust me, we have had plenty of those moments.  Our year has included a unique and complicated struggle to remain authentic to who we were before landing here, and attempting to not get voted off the island.

I am so grateful for "our tribe" who have listened as we wrestled with ALL the transitions we have come across. I am so grateful for the text messages, the emails, the private conversations, when people have extended us grace to just be us. No strings attached. Those moments are tucked away in my "don't sell your double wide" folder and will be held on to forever!

It has been one of my greatest and hardest privileges to connect myself to this quaint Camp of the French. I am excited to deepen our roots here and marinate.

Happy One Year Anniversary!
~Sara