a letter to 2012.

Dear Two Thousand and Twelve,

As years tend to do, you came in strong, lolly gagged around in the middle and are now leaving as I find myself thinking, “Where in the world did 2012 go?” There were many ups and downs, good times and hard times that came and passed while you were present in my life. I have some incredibly fond memories of this year, and some moments that I am glad are over and done with. As the chapter officially closes on you this evening, I wanted to thank you for all that you taught me this year.

You taught me patience. You taught me how to see things from the other perspective, even when it doesn’t always match what I think is best, or even right. You taught me to be open to whatever God has for me, in the hard times and in the blessings. You taught me that true happiness is always right in front of me, even when I’m too blind to see it. You taught me to remember moments, because they are special, and wonderful, and while they might linger back into your head later on, nothing means more than being present right then and there when it’s actually happening. You taught me that crying is healthy, healing and something that happens often in response to being happy, being upset, or just simply a response to the fact that life is so beautiful. You taught me that friendship and community doesn’t always come easy, that it’s often hard to let people in, but that once you do, it can be so, so good. You taught me to trust in the Lord, and that even if you can’t see how everything is going to come together, it’s a good thing that He orchestrates it all and that you don’t . You taught me that heartache doesn’t last forever. You taught me that anxiety comes and might take up space in your heart for a while, but if you keep breathing and refocus your thoughts and your heart on what is stronger than all of that, you’ll eventually be okay and at peace again. You taught me that change isn’t always easy, but it’s constant, and even greater than that, God is constant and so good. You taught me that all things must come to an end, and while swallowing that pill and accepting that truth might be hard, there’s always a new beginning on the horizon. Always.


So, Two Thousand and Twelve, here’s to you. Thanks for the good times, and the hard times. Thanks for the laughter and tears and the time we were able to spend together. I’m grateful for all that you taught me, and for the way you helped prepare me for Two Thousand and Thirteen. Out with the old, in with the new. A new chapter. An inhale, and an exhale. An ending and a beginning.



jump from my heart.


Today is one of those days that I’d love to be formulating beautiful sentences on a typewriter.

I think the pushing of the buttons and the sound of the stamp hitting the paper would be comforting. I think it would take me to a place that I long to be sometimes… a place where I can be creative and let words flow out of me as if they were meant to jump from my heart onto paper.

And I’m not sure why I feel like a typewriter would help me accomplish that. Maybe it’s not just the typewriter I’m seeking. Maybe it’s that whole feeling of wanting to just let the words come out of me which I don’t often feel like I allow them to. I want to light a candle, and sit in a comfy chair with a hot cup of tea and some calming music. I need a retreat… a get away of sorts to just collect my thoughts, and just write.

Maybe one of these days I’ll find the feeling, and the words, and the typewriter.