Farewell to Summer: Our Latest Dinner Party

It all began with an email that read:

Sept. 9, 2010

Dearest Cookie (a.k.a. Frit),
Did you realize that the last day of Summer is this month? Well, it is. The 21st of September to be exact. And so I propose … a dress up dinner party hostessed by toi et moi (that’s “you and me” in French. I learned that the other day when I was watching my French subtitled movie from Netflix On Demand). A “Farewell to Summer” dinner party if you will.
What do you think? Invite 4 ladies, dresses required, and fancy to boot?
Fondly,
Kristafer

The reply to which, was:

Dear Cookie. Stop.
Though I am saddened to hear that summer will be departing, I think a dinner party in honor of the warm days is a splendid idea.
Sincerely. Cordially. And affectionately.
Frit
And so. A guest list was finalized, a plan was outlined, and invitations were mailed.
(Sidenote: I illustrated the banner on our invitations which you are free to download here if you would like use it in the future. Simply paste into a Word document or other editing program, type in your party info, and print. *Remember–it’s for personal use only. Please do not sell my illustration or anything made from my illustration. Stealing makes me sad.)
.
When the twenty-first arrived, I was beside myself with anticipation and began the day busily making final preparations … ironing the linens, polishing the silverware, gathering supplies for the centerpieces, preparing an assortment of foods. But when I went to hang the bistro lights on the patio outside, I found the bees were out in full force and I knew there was no way we would enjoy a relaxing dinner with all the buzzing in our backyard. I could foresee the swatting and cowering with a final mad dash back into the house, plates in hand, my lovely table abandoned.
.
And that, my friends, is why you must always have a Plan B when hostessing a party.
.
I moved the party inside and while the decor wasn’t what I’d originally envisioned (that is, buntings and lights hanging from the trellis to match the invitations I’d drawn) it still turned out perfectly.
I used a white tablecloth as my base, with two pinky-peach runners laid across the width of the table on each end. On top of that I placed a hand-laced square overlay that I found while on a holiday in Scotland. I also arranged an assortment of glassware around the table and placed tea-lights in each.
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For the centerpieces, I bought three bouquets from the grocer: 1 dozen peach roses, 6 stems of pink snap dragons, and a handful of yellow wildflower fillers, to divide and arrange between three vases filled with water and clear glass stones. I then wrapped each vase (2 of which were mason jars) with hemp twine and tied with a loose bow.
As for place settings, I used large white dinner plates, chartreuse linen napkins with silverware to the sides (knife and spoon on the right, fork on the left … in case you wondered), beveled glass bowls for the dinner rolls, stemmed glasses for iced water and mason jars for lemonade. It was summer casual meets simple elegance.
Place cards were printed with each person’s name and various quotes about summer including …
The summer night is like a perfection of thought.  ~Wallace Stevens
In summer, the song sings itself.  ~William Carlos Williams
A life without love is like a year without summer.  ~Swedish Proverb
Summer afternoon – summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.  ~Henry James
Sun is shining. Weather is sweet. Make you wanna move your dancing feet. ~Bob Marley

On the menu we had:

Grilled Marinated Chicken
(halved chicken breasts soaked in a mixture of olive oil, sparkling cider, lemon juice, dijon mustard, and basil for 3 hours and then grilled up on the George Foreman)
Warm Garlic String Beans
(blanch 1-pound of string beans for 2 minutes. Return to a saucepan with 3 tablespoons olive oil, 1 tablespoon butter, 4 cloves of garlic minced, 3 tablespoons lemon juice, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and a 1/4 teaspoon black pepper. Cook about 4 minutes over medium-high heat. Toss in 2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley and 1 tablespoon grated lemon zest. Serve warm.)
Lemon Rice Pilaf
(prepare rice and risotto as instructed on packaging but substitute 1/4 of the water with fresh lemon juice, add herbs as desired. Sprinkle with chopped parsley when served.)
Dinner Rolls from Sego Lily Cafe in Bountiful
(the rolls are worth the drive from anywhere, but the Butternut Squash Ravioli will put you over the edge.)
with my Citrus Tart for dessert
It was a light, fresh meal–a perfect etude of summer.
In attendance we had the lovely and talented Brooke, a long-time friend who immediately came to mind when we began planning. (And just so you know, you should totally download her new CD. Tracks 3 and 6 are my faves.)
As well as the beautiful Misses Kelly and LuAnn, who drove all the way from American Fork (an hour away) to have dinner with us. Kelly was a blog reader I had never met–I drew her name from those who emailed interest in coming when I extended the invitation to all of you readers. She brought her mother LuAnn as her guest and as soon as they walked in, they felt like old friends. They own Lu Kels, a darling online boutique (speaking of…I’ve got my eye on the red 3-button cadet cap. Isn’t it fantastic?!) and were so fun to meet. It was honestly a perfect group of people.
Our dear neighbor Paula was also on the guest list but had to cancel last minute due to her twin babes being sick. This was sad news for many reasons. First, Paula is down-right hilarious and fun to have around. Second, we would have loved to give her a night away from the kids. And third, Paula is an amazing violinist and we’d asked her to bring her violin to favor us with a mini concert. But no matter, we took her a plate of deliciousness later that night and kept her at the top of the list for the next dinner party.
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And as for the concert, we still had plenty of entertainment. Brooke and I each sang a couple of songs and that in and of itself made my whole night. Singing around the piano with friends is balm to the soul.
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I honestly had the most wonderful evening–meeting new friends, sitting with old ones, sharing food and laughter. That’s the reason I love to hostess. Nourishment in every way. I hoped our guests knew how grateful we were that they came. And if they didn’t, we gave them a jar of homemade peach jam to remind them.
(Thank you so much Brookie, Kelly, and LuAnn. You’re all so wonderful and Frit and I had the most fantastic time with you. xoxo)
And now? I’m just scheming for the next party. Can’t wait!

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Family Photos: Salt Lake City, UT [Haymore Family]

I don’t want to jinx anything, but right now the weather in Utah is glorious and it’s making for the most wonderful photo shoots. Last week I met up with the Haymore family in Salt Lake City for a family photo session at Liberty Park.

Not too hot, not too cold, delicious light, and a beautiful family with lots of love = a happy photographer, a.k.a. me.

The Haymores are about to begin the adoption process again and I was thrilled to help them update their family photos. All I can say is that the baby who gets this family is one lucky little one.

Thanks Haymores! It was so fun to meet you and spend a sunny afternoon together in the park. You’re a wonderful family and I am grateful to know you now.

As a side note: It’s family picture time! Christmas cards season is fast approaching and all photo sessions scheduled in October will be 20% off. Schedule yours today. Email me here and we’ll take care of everything!

[View more of the Haymore's photo session in the Facebook album here. And while you're there, feel free to leave a note or click "Like"! I always love to hear from you.]

Don’t Forget: All photo sessions scheduled in October are 20% off. Email me here

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That Time Howie Mandel Interrupted My Prayer

Frit and I think very differently. And as such, sometimes I tell her that I would like to spend a day inside her head. To which she replies, “You couldn’t pay me enough to spend an hour inside your head.”

Case in point: Today I  was driving to the TV station for my monthly appearance and my train of thought went something like this …

I need some music. [I turn the radio on.]

Oh shoot. I forgot to say my prayers this morning and I’m gonna need His help with this TV segment. [I turn the radio off.]

Heavenly Father: I thank thee so much for this day. I’m so grateful for my life. Please help me this morning with my TV segment …

.

.

.

That song on the radio sounded just like the song that girl sang on America’s Got Talent last night with T-payne.

T-pain?

Tea-pane?

Hm.

I wonder if he’s related to Tu-pac.

It was kind of a weird song.

I heard somewhere, or maybe I read it, that Howie Mandel is germaphobic.

Is the term “germaphobic” politically correct? Probably not. What do you even call someone who’s anxious about germs? There’s got to be a term for that.

If I ever met Howie Mandel, he probably wouldn’t want to shake my hand.

Not that my hands in particular are extra dirty, but hands in general do carry a lot of germs. I actually wash my hands a lot and use a lot of that anti-bacterial stuff. I’m probably borderline germaphobic too.

So anyway, how would I say “hello Mr. Mandel, pleased to meet you,” without a handshake?

Nugs?

Yes, I think nugs would work. Less germs on the top knuckles, I’d assume.

Well at least that’s settled. If I ever meet Howie Mandel, I’ll give him nugs.

Why am I thinking about Howie Mandel?

Oh right. The radio song that sounded like the song on America’s Got Talent, which I turned off because I needed to pray.

Oh shoot. My prayer. It’s still hanging in the air.

Heavenly Father: sorry ’bout that. I’m back. So … can you please help me with my TV segment this morning?

Tutorial: Chic Clutch a la Placemat

Oh good morning! And welcome to any new visitors who found me through Good Things Utah. You GTU viewers are just the greatest! Please sit and stay awhile. Browse around, sign up for the RSS feed here, join the newsletter list over there on the right (I’m working on some fantastic Halloween tutorials just for the list!), or find me on Facebook and Twitter. Oh and if you’d like to come to a sa-weet (!) ladies dinner at my house, check this post out.

Now on to the tutorial!

Repurposing is all the rage these days. And what better way to repurpose an old placemat, than to turn it into a chic clutch that looks like it came straight out of the hippest boutique?! Yep. You heard me. Placemat to boutique chic clutch. Here’s how …

Chic Clutch a la Placemat

Supplies:
1 placemat (in good condition), fabric for lining, foam sheet, tape measure, rotary cutter and mat (or scissors and flat surface), magnetic clasp, 1″ x 1″ piece of med. to heavy weight interfacing, embellishments (like lace, ribbon, flowers, etc.), sewing maching, thread, fabric glue

Instructions:

1. Cut lining fabric to exact same size as the placemat. (A placemat measuring 16 1/2″ x 12″ was used for this tutorial. Measurements may need to be modified to scale based on size of placemat being used.)

2. On the right side of the placemat, centered between sides, and 4″ from bottom edge, attach back-side of magnetic clasp.

(front)

(back)

3. On the wrong side of the lining, centered between sides, and 1/2″ from top edge, iron interfacing square (remember: tacky side down). Turn lining over so right side is facing up. Center magnetic clasp on interfacing square, and attach.

4. Place lining and placemat right-sides together (the magnetic clasp back should be at the bottom, & magnetic clasp front should be at the top). Pin sides and bottom and sew 1/4″ seam along sides and bottom, leaving top edge open.

5. Turn right-side-out and iron seam flat.

6. Cut two pieces of foam sheet measuring 5 1/4″ x 12″, and one piece measuring 4 1/2″ x 12″.

7. Insert one of the 5 1/4″ x 12″ sheets into the clutch, slide to bottom. Secure tightly with pins. Sew a seam along the open edge of the foam (width-wise) to secure hold.

8. Insert the second 5 1/4″ x 12″ piece of foam sheet. Secure open edge with pins. Sew a seam along the open edge of the foam (width-wise) to secure hold.

9. Insert the 4 1/2″ x 12″ piece of foam into the top of clutch. Secure with pins and sew along top edge. (You do not have to turn raw edges under.)

10. With clutch on a flat surface, placemat side down, fold up bottom third at seam line in-between the two lower foam pieces. Due to the thickness of the foam, pinning is difficult, so with a tight hold on the edges (keeping them lined up) sew from top to bottom as close to edge as possible to close clutch sides.

11. Cut a coordinating piece of ribbon (you could also use seam or quilt binding) 2 inches longer than the width of the clutch.

12. Fold in half, lengthwise and iron.

13. Encase ribbon along raw top edge of clutch and glue in place, wrapping sides under before gluing the underside.

14. Embellish the clutch as desired.

15. Never tell a soul that your chic new clutch used to be a placemat!

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an Invitation … [Farewell to Summer: A Ladies' Dinner]

This weekend I did a lot of thinking.

And in the midst of that thinking I received a few emails and comments from strangers who read this here blog. Kind comments. Thankful emails. The kind of emails and comments that make me grateful for this big world (that isn’t so big).

Now, I’ve always known there were strangers reading, and I’ve received comments and an occasional email from someone I don’t know. But by and large, the majority of people I hear from are friends. (Hi friends! xo!) So this weekend, to have received such a high volume of notes from strangers was both curious and heart-warming.

It made me really think about who is reading. And it made me want to throw one big whopping party and force you all to come so that I can get to know each one of you. I mean really. Really. This weekend, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Who you are. Where you live. What you like. What’s important to you. What you want most. What makes you happy. What makes you sad. If you’re struggling. Or if you’re epically happy. I just wanted to know you. And while I totally understand the urge to stop by here to read and simply stay silent (it’s what I do most often when I read other people’s blogs), I’d honestly and sincerely like to invite you to tell me who you are. Tell me something about yourself. Anything. Tell me lots or tell me a little. And if you have a blog or a site, please please please leave me the link. I really really really want to know you.

And in the spirit of parties … while I can’t throw one, big party for you all to come to, I do want to extend an invitation. Frit and I are hostessing a small, ladies dinner next Tuesday, Sept. 21 in honor of the last day of summer and I have reserved two places at the table for someone who reads this blog to come (with a guest) and join us. I wish I had a bigger table and could invite more. Then again, maybe no one will want to come (ha!) and this will turn out to be a totally embarrassing idea. But if this sounds like fun (and it will be) and if you need a night out sans children or husband or homework or work or dishes or whatever it is you need to leave behind, please leave a comment or send me an email. In the event that more than one person wants to come, I’ll randomly draw a name at the end of the week.

(The invitations … )

Lastly, I thought you might like to know that my next segment on Good Things Utah is tomorrow at 10 a.m. MST. Tune in to ABC4 if you can. I’ll be demonstrating how to make a chic boutique-quality clutch from a placemat. Seriously.

Oh, and like I said … Quiet readers are always welcome so feel free to stay silent. But I’d also love to get to know you. So if you feel inclined, do leave a note and tell me a little something about you. I can’t wait to meet you.

Much love,

Krista

One Year

A year is a long time. 12 entire months. 8 national holidays. 4 whole seasons. 365 days. 8,760 hours.

So if a year is really so long, how come it went by so fast?

It honestly seems impossible–impossible–that an entire year has passed since I lost my job.

On Tuesday I freaked out. I did. I know. And if I’m honest, I’m still a little (lotta) freaked out by the reality that is my life after one year.

I feel like I should be so much farther ahead. So much more stable. So much more successful. But the truth of the matter is that I’m still figuring all this out.

And I need to learn to be okay with that.

The time it takes to figure it out, that is.

I need to be patient with myself. (And with God–but I’m not ready to tell Him that yet.)

I was reading Eat. Pray. Love. whilst on vacation last month and I loved the part when she’s in Italy learning Italian and her tutor says, “You must be patient with yourself when you’re learning new things.”

I loved it because I know that’s true. But I’ve never been good at it. I get frustrated so easily with myself when I’m unable to “get it” the first time ’round.

Norm, a reader and friend, left a comment on Tuesday’s post that said: Please know that there are a couple of people in Gilbert, AZ who hope for the best for you and are amazed at all that you have accomplished this past year.

All that you have accomplished this past year.

When I’m being honest, I know that’s true too. But I’ve been busy swimming in my self-pity. And that’s okay. I’m not going to get upset with myself for wallowing. It’s how I truly felt. Lost and frustrated.

But Norm is right.

I just haven’t wanted to acknowledge what I have done, because I’ve felt like none of it matters since I’m not yet where I want to be.

And while there is still a part of me that wishes things were more certain, more successful, and more … “more,” I do know that I’ve come far.

I’ve accomplished much and have done good things this last year of 12 months, 8 national holidays, 4 seasons, 365 days and 8,760 hours.

I got this website up and running.

I started taking some really killer photos and have improved my skills greatly in the last year. I can see the difference: 1st “professional” photo shoot vs my most recent photo shoot.

I successfully pitched myself to a TV station and became their fabric craft expert with a regular segment on television.

I was quoted in a crafting article here.

I opened a little shop online to sell some of the things I make with my own hands. I’ve received 100% positive feedback thus far and my shop was even been featured on a popular style and fashion blog.

I put myself out there (in a dating sense) and as a result, I dated a really nice boy for a little while.

I’ve created a catalog of helpful sewing tutorials.

I made a list of 101 Things to Do in 1001 Days and have crossed six things off.

I was hired as a seamstress to sew clothes for a few important occasions. One example here. Another here.

Karl & Kaye Malone also hired me to sew a quilt for their daughter.

I produced a really fantastic concert.

And here I am one year later. Still alive. Still able to keep trying to make this crazy idea work. Still dreaming.

I’m still scared and still wobbly on my one-year-old legs. I’m still a little bit frustrated and a little bit unsure about what I’m doing. But I’m also a little bit brighter and a little bit more determined than I was on Tuesday to continue moving forward. I know I’ll not be perfect at being patient with the pace. But I’m trying.

And I’m actually looking forward to seeing where I am on Sept. 10, 2011.

(But, of course, I’m not getting ahead of myself.)

Aimless Meanderings

Peace can be so elusive in this world of ours. Everything is so loud and crashing and busy. Life swirls and climbs and it’s easy to feel like your drowning. Case in point. But as I’ve been sifting through my rubble, I’ve been thinking a lot about peace. Namely where I can find it and how I can invite more of it into my life.

So today I took a long drive through the canyon and stopped to sit by the pond for a spell. I thought perhaps this might be a good place to start. And I’m beginning to think there’s something good and lovely and healing about the act meandering aimlessly.

I didn’t begin my drive with a plan (gasp). Wait. I take that back. I lie. I did have a plan. Initially. I looked at a map before I left and plotted a course to get to my destination. But when I went to follow my course, it was a series of non-existent roads or dirt paths unfit for my on-her-last-legs-Passat. Shocker. I’d say that’s par for the course these days. So then I had no choice but to meander aimlessly.

If it was a deadend, I turned around. If it looked interesting, I turned in. If I wanted to stay straight, I did. And I allowed my thoughts the same grace. I didn’t try to force understanding. I didn’t try to guide any parallels. I didn’t look for answers. I just let them come. One by one in whatever order they flowed.

And as I sat by the pond at the end of my wander, I tried to consciously acknowledge each of my senses. What did I feel? What did I hear? What did I see? Taste? Smell?

And while I didn’t have any grand epiphanies or flashes of wisdom, I did feel peace. Today I felt peace. I was totally present in the moment. And the mountain air was good for my soul.

___

Maybe you’d like to see what I saw on my wander?

Yesterday Morning. Yesterday Afternoon. Yesterday Evening.

Yesterday morning, after posting 1,673 words worth of honest, I was feeling very silly and stupid and slightly alone. Then I got an email from Meghan with an enclosed “e-hug” all the way from Atlanta. Not a page worth of validation. (Which I didn’t need.) Not an ounce of advice. (Which I didn’t want.) Just a, “Hey. It’s not easy and you sound like you’re in a rough place. Here’s a hug.” Two lines total. And while I still felt a tad bit silly and a handful of stupid, I didn’t feel quite so alone.

Thank you Meghan. xo

***

Yesterday afternoon, when I was feeling even more ridiculous than I had in the morning, and had since added intense vulnerability to the emotional equation about being as open as I had been, and was contemplating deleting the whole post all together, I got another email–this time from Katie, my BFF from college. Enclosed in her email was “love from San Fransisco” and a link. The link led me to a video about authenticity and vulnerability and shame and fear. After watching it, I still felt vulnerable (as I still do), but no longer did I feel silly and definitely not stupid. And the vulnerability? It grows on you. I now understand that in the vulnerability of sharing my honest, authentic story yesterday, I can now move forward and clean this mess up. So watch out. You just might get more honesty than you bargained for around these parts.

Thank you Kate. xo

***

Yesterday evening Frit and I went for a drive. It was dusk and we meandered through the high streets of Bountiful, up and down the hills, in and out of neighborhoods, round and round the temple, as the lights of city and sky reflected in the Great Lake we live beside. It was a mostly silent drive with the windows down and the moon roof open. The air was warm but with a coolness that nipped at its heels.

On our way home she told me a story. Last Sunday at Church when she was reviewing the songs with the children for their annual program, she played a game that was a cross between America’s Got Talent and Dancing with the Stars. The children were to sing like it was showtime and their teachers were going to judge them on a scale of 1 to 10 on certain aspects of their performance. For example, one teacher would rate their knowledge of the words. Another would rate their posture. Another would rate their smiles. Etc. Well the kids loved it, especially when they got a “10″ which meant they got to “add a scoop” to the cardboard ice-cream sundae they were building, representative of the ice-cream party they get after the real program is over.

Frit said it was interesting (and hilarious) to watch the difference between the junior class (ages 3 to 7) and the senior class (ages 8 to 12) as they each practiced. In junior, after receiving their ratings, and in particular a “9″ for their smiling, the teacher-”judge” them told them it seemed like they were so focused on smiling that they forgot to sing. And then later, in senior, after also getting a “9″ for their smiling, the same teacher told them that it seemed like they were so focused on trying to remember the words that they forgot to smile.

“I think,” she told each group, “if you’ll just focus on enjoying the song, then the words, and the smile, will come.”

She’s a smart one, that Frit (and sneaky). She knows how to soup me up with advice that doesn’t look like advice.

Thanks Frit. xo

The Edge

This might be long. And it might be jumbley. And I know this is generally a happy place to come and visit. But at this point, everything is about to come busting out of me like a volcano, so if I don’t let it out now in a controlled fashion, it might come spewing forth like Vesuvius tomorrow or the next day or the next, firey and devastating and without warning.

I’ve not had words for weeks now. And every time I kneel down to pray the only thing that comes out is … “It’s all so messy Father. I’ve made a mess.” And then I cry, which to be honest, is more of a sob.

And I’m not usually this open. At least not about the difficult things. And especially not in the moment. I’m fine talking about my struggles (sort of) … AFTER the fact–once I’ve come through to the other side and everything is neat and tidy again. But never while I’m in the midst of it, with no answers or wisdom to accompany.

And even now I’m scared as hell to be this open. But for some reason it hurts more to not be real this time. And please mom, please don’t call and hover. Oh please don’t hover. And Cyndy, please don’t put me on the Relief Society Presidency’s “need to visit” list. I’m not asking for help and I’ve never been one for advice. I just need to get it out.

See, I’m the kind of girl who likes everything to be in its place. I keep my life buttoned up tight like a shiny little package, beautiful and perfect. But lately it’s been a wreck. I’ve been a wreck. Poor Frit, I go from laughing to crying in seconds. But today, I just need to be honest. I just need to be real. I just need to say that life is really sucky right now. Eloquent, I know.

This Friday will mark the one-year anniversary since I lost my job. And essentially the mess can be summed up in six words: I don’t know what I’m doing. I still don’t know what I’m doing. How is that possible? It’s been 365 days. I should have things in order by now. I should be successful. I should have a plan. I should be kickin’ butt. I should feel passionate about life. Shouldn’t I? (Rhetorical.) But instead, everything is messy and confusing.

Last night I almost bought a plane ticket to a city on the other side of the world. Why? Because I just wanted to go somewhere. Anywhere. Away. But after I’d typed in all my information and was ready to click “Complete Your Order” I thought about all the reasons I shouldn’t be rash.

I thought about my consulting clients and my shop and my church duties. I thought about my credit card bill (that already has more on it than an unemployed girl should allow). I thought about whether or not it was safe to just up and go to a city I’ve never been to by myself with no plan or place to stay once I got there. I thought about the risk and all the reasons I shouldn’t. And instead of clicking the round blue button and embracing the uncertainty of what I was essentially wanting to do, I closed the computer, took a hot shower, cried, and went to sleep.

My mom often illustrates the fundamental difference between me and my younger sister with a story about how we approach the swimming pool. Karly sees the pool, runs full speed ahead and jumps, without ever checking to see if there’s even water. I, on the other hand, carefully walk to the edge and inspect every inch of the ledge to make sure it’s safe, before dipping my toes, and then finally immersing myself.

But for some reason I just want to run and jump. There’s this voice inside me that is screaming “BUY THE DAMN TICKET! GO! JUST GO! IT’S WHAT YOU WANT!” And it’s true. It is what I want. To just go. Not to run away. No, not at all. But to go. To see something. To walk. To think. To write. Away. From here where everything is messy and my mind can’t seem to find quiet or peace or confidence or passion or fulfillment.

But the risk. I’ve never been one for risk. For I’m a fearful soul. Fearful of failing. Fearful of how I will look if I do fail. Fearful of letting people down. Fearful of making a fool. Fearful of making a mistake. Fearful of getting hurt. And so I keep everything buttoned up and safe in the afore mentioned shiny package. And I never risk. But for some reason it’s wearying me lately. And I don’t know what the package is supposed to look like anymore.

Please don’t get me wrong. I know–I KNOW–I have a beautiful life. I’m very aware of the mountains of blessings I’ve been given. But I’m frustrated and I’m confused. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.

And maybe it doesn’t matter what I do. But I feels like it does.

I started a business and it’s fun. I make pretty things and I enjoy it. I take good photographs and I enjoy it (probably the most of everything I do). I offer advice and send press releases for my consulting clients, and while I don’t enjoy it, it (sort of) pays the bills.

And I’m grateful for the chance to try to make it on my own. I’m grateful for the chance to be my own boss and work from home. But none of it is becoming wildly successful. None of it is really supporting even the bare essentials of my life yet. But whenever anyone asks, I smear the smile on and tell them, “Things are great!” (Shiny packaging at its finest.)

And maybe it’s because I’ve spread myself in so many different directions. Maybe I need to focus my efforts. Maybe I just need to work harder. Heaven knows I’ve watched my fair share of Netflix On Demand this last year. Or … maybe I did the wrong thing. Maybe I chose the wrong path. Maybe I was in such a hurry to find something, do something, be something, that I jumped before I’d fully inspected the ledge. Totally uncharacteristic. But maybe that’s what I did.

And now, I’m barely treading water, looking at my messy life, wondering what in the world did I do? And, what do I do now?

I was reading a stranger’s blog this morning and she wrote of her life, “I GET TO LIVE MY DREAM! … I GET TO DO A JOB THAT ACTUALLY FULFILLS ME on a daily basis…”

What would that be like? You know, for the longest time I thought I was, but then it got taken away. And then I thought I would be, with all these new endeavors, but I’m not so sure anymore.

Because the thing is, I don’t even know what my dreams are anymore. I know what I’m good at. I know what I enjoy. But I’m not doing anything that makes me jump up and down with wild excitement and certainty that I’m contributing to the world in a meaningful way. I’ve lost my passion. And I feel totally lost. I don’t even know what I want most anymore. I have no idea what that “thing” should be in my life.

And then there’s the whole business of matching up what I want (once I figure it out) with what God wants. It always comes back to that for me. This frustrating place where I labor to align the two wills. I mean, where is that line between what I want and my agency and what God wants for me. I never seem to be certain of it.

And the thing is … I want what He wants for me. I do. More than anything. But I want what I want too. And I think I’m supposed to. So how do those two worlds marry?

And lately, He and I–God and I, that is–are on a rocky footing anyway. Not that I’m going anywhere. In fact, He hears more from me these days than He probably ever has. But I’m frustrated and upset with Him because I feel like He’s not helping me when I need Him most. Yes. You read that correctly. And I hate feeling that way toward Him. Because then I feel upset with myself for feeling upset with God. Because you’re not supposed to feel that way. He’s God, for crying out loud. You shouldn’t get mad at your Creator and source of all good things, especially when He blesses you the way He does. But I am. And don’t worry. He knows I’m frustrated with Him. I told Him so. And He said, okay.

And that’s the other thing. I believe in divine revelation. I believe that we can talk to God and that He talks back. I have no doubt about that. But I can’t seem to hear Him lately, especially when it matters most. And I know it’s not because He’s not answering. He always answers. It’s because I’m not hearing. So then I begin to evaluate everything in my life. What am I doing wrong to make it so that I can’t hear? And if that’s not a recipe for frustration and guilt I don’t know what is.

But nothing’s coming together like I thought or hoped it would. So now I’m in a puddle on the floor by my bed nightly. I’m an inch away from packing a bag, jumping in the car, and just driving–simply because I don’t know what else to do. I’m in the middle of what seems to be a mess, with nary an idea of how to organize it and put it back together.

I’m at a loss.

And that’s where it stands today.

(p.s. sorry for the swears. I don’t usually have a potty mouth, but sometimes those words release a whole lot of the inner frustration that can’t seem to get out any other way.)

Shop Update (& 20% Off Sale for Mailing List Subscribers)

Well friends. Frit and I are off to see The Lion King tonight. I’m pretty stoked, especially since I’ve heard such great things about this musical. PLUS I have a new headband to wear. And since I’m all about getting dressed up for the theater (Pet Peeve #1 is people who wear jeans to the theater. Tacky.), this new headband might just be the next best thing this side of Elton John.

Where did I get my  headband? Oh just over at this cute little shop called Island Belle Boutique. The designer over there has the most darling accessories. You should check it out. She just stocked some new items today. And … here’s an extra tidbit of juicy info. Everyone who signs up for her mailing list (over there on the right —-> ) gets 20% everything in the store today through Sunday. Just thought I’d let you know.

Now Available at Island Belle Boutique