It takes a church--to get me thinking.

Right now it is a quarter 'til midnight, and I am watching a show I recorded called "It takes a church". Honestly, I think I'm gonna be addicted, but shhhhhh don't tell anyone; a single girl watching a matchmaking show is so cliche. The girl that's being match made, matched(?) just said, "I was diagnosed with a very unattractive disease, and that really affected my self esteem!" Ironically, my first thought was "Me too!" even though PCOS isn't a disease-it's a disorder-I still completely understand that feeling. My second thought was, "That doesn't make you any less cute! Some guy is gonna be lucky to have you!" because her whole church was only saying positive things about her, and she really is a pretty girl. 

Here's the question: Why is it easy to encourage others, and see the truth of who they are, but not the same for ourselves? 

Or wait, maybe I'm the only one. Am I? 

When I was diagnosed with pcos the doctor made me feel like I was about to die if I didn't follow her exact instructions. That was horrible, but on the other hand I was glad to know that things I was struggling with (especially my acne) were not incurable as they'd seemed so far. The response from the guy I was in a relationship with at the time only affirmed my feelings regarding my appearance by reminding me that he had told me I needed to eat better and exercise more (which he had.) Men often take their cues from us though, and I know my low opinion of my appearance told him that I needed instructions, and my silence told him that I welcomed his opinions. 

When I became single again, I had to really stop and consider what I thought about myself without anyone else's input. I came to the conclusion that I am made unique. I don't (and won't) always feel beautiful, but most importantly I decided that if I'm beautiful on the inside everything else will fall into place with a little effort.

You got all that out of watching "It Takes A Church"? 

Why yes, yes I did.

Simple Saturday-Flower Planter

On the few relaxing days my mom has, she loves to play around in the dirt outside. This week I caught her cutting up burlap (sack race) bags up and using them as a vessel for some lovely flowers. She won this adorable planter at a ladies event she went to, but was when it came to keeping the dirt in. 

Doesn't it look great? 

Park day with Mikey

I went to the park with my nephew-and sisters-earlier this week. The pictures were too cute not to share (though I will request that YOU don't share them.) He is 2 years old and quite the adventurous, active, and intelligent little one.

First, he decided to draw. On the pavement. When it was time to leave.

As soon as we ate, he was ready to go. He started off on the baby slides.

Then he wanted to conquer this one

Of course auntie was waiting at the bottom in case anything went awry. 

Then the shaky bridge...

All too soon he was told he needed a diaper change and a nap, but first, one more picture!

What do you like doing with the adorable little ones you get to spend time with?

Night owl or early bird

Are you a night owl or an early bird?

I'm a night owl, so it's pretty difficult for me to get anything accomplished early in the day. I was determined this week to beat my usual productiveness record though, especially since last week I listed two vintage items in my shop. Progress feels good, and I long to see my shop filled. I am in the midst of doing a custom local order, and even though I'm moving right along (and getting paid for sure--unlike when something is put in my shop) I do prefer working on things I decide on myself. A friend gave me several small boxes of vintage patterns, and I set aside a "few" that really got me excited. Unfortunately, what looks like a few, is too many to go through really quickly. Especially if the decision of what fabric to use for each pattern is agonizing.

By the way, I got this cute little container at a yard sale for $1. Yes! It was half off because they were shutting down for the day. Wow, I could've at least removed the tag lol. 

I went to the fabric store yesterday to buy some thread, and I walked out with two fabrics I couldn't resist. 

As you can see, one is a black floral print with a vintage look to it, and the other is a red tribal print. They're both so beautiful that I hate to put them up for sale...

But this was what I was up doing last night while watching that new show Motive.

Yes, I admit I sometimes cut things out on the floor. That vintage table I bought has not been put in the house yet due to renovations going on in-what will be-the craft room. 

I found out that I can get things done during the day with some determination and a nap in between. 

Choices

Can I be real with you?

Sometimes being human is hard. Sometimes being an adult is even harder. 

Now if we add to it like a sandwich: "being married, being single, being unemployed, having kids, being an empty nester..." the list is endless for the things that make life hard! 

I find that hardest of all, are the decisions. How do you decide something when you've never been faced with it before? How do you know that the advice you receive is sound? When does it become easy? 

I know of one decision that I will always been glad I made (1), and one that I want to make over and over (2). 

1. To be a Christian.

"Oh Elisabeth," you say "don't do this, I don't want to read about this."

But that's the thing about decisions. You can decide to read the rest or not, but you've already read this far, and as a logical person surely you want to see if what I have to say has value. 

I was quite young when I decided to be a Christian. Some people would say that at that age, I couldn't have possibly known "what I was doing", but there will be naysayers for anything. I was raised by parents who believed in God, and took me to church. The church part wasn't a choice, it was just the way things were done. Every Sunday and Wednesday I heard how to be saved and it's pretty simple, it goes like this:

Heaven is a place of perfection. No sin is allowed in heaven. Unfortunately, all humans have sinned, and this means we fall short of perfection (think about a target, if you miss the bulls eye you have missed no matter how close).

Jesus died on the cross and paid the cost for our imperfection. We simply have to admit that we fall short/have done wrong, accept his payment, and ask Him to forgive us, and we go to heaven. 

To me, separation from God forever--the one who made every beautiful thing in this universe-seemed like a horrible thing. So one night, when I should have been sleeping, at seven years of age, I decided to go tell my mom that I wanted to accept Jesus in my heart. It was a defining moment for me. My daily walk/relationship with Him isn't a requirement; it's a choice that I happily made. 

Now, on to the other...which in many ways is related to this I guess. 

2. To be happy

I sometimes struggle with this one. Life was meant to be enjoyed, and I mean that in the most non-cliche way! I find pleasure in so many little things, but I'm also an easily stressed person. Finding out I have health problems only added to my stress levels, and the expectations of others have always been an extreme burden on me. I want to daily choose to be happy.

"Finally...whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." Philippians 4:8

Wordless Wednesday (picture from winter)

Momma Post

This is my mom. You don't know her, therefore you can't possibly know how cool she is without even trying to be. I post on facebook about her sometimes, so I think I'll occasionally do a "Momma post" here. Everyone should know this lady. 

She helps me procrastinate:

Me: I've been thinking, since I'm single now-and may be single for the rest of my life-I should find my calling.
Momma: *Looks up from her book* Sounds good.

Me: Like as soon as possible. Tonight.

Momma: *laughs* How about we do it tomorrow?

She's always logical:

Me: This scab on my wrist is annoying me; I look down and think it's a bug.
Momma: Scratch it off!

Me: Moms aren't supposed to say to pick your scabs!

Momma: Unless your child is grown, and the scab looks like a bug.

I hope that made you smile. Goodnight all!