I just finished writing one of those off the top of my head emails to a friend about choices and consequences. My own words have me thinking now. Just because you're in the middle of a very different situation than what you based your decision on doesn't change your original decision. This haunts me. How many times have I made a choice only to have the situation change or morph into something I never expected? Or berated myself for not being omniscient enough to see the future? Or let someone else make me feel scatterbrained or fickle when I wanted to back out of something I clearly didn't want in the first place? The sad truth is far too many times. We make choices based on the information before us. Sometimes it's factual. Sometimes it's not. Sometimes it changes when someone else changes their mind. But that still doesn't change the truth alive in me. That doesn't change the drive I feel in my spirit or the passions in my soul. Learning to see myself...to...

Sometimes it blows my mind that I still talk to people I've known since seventh grade. (That's 18 years for those of you who don't want to do the math.) There's something about going through the junior high years with someone that really seals a bond between souls. Anyone who has listened to you sob for the millionth time about some sappy guy or stuck by your side through the self-absorption and melodrama years really can't expect to see much worse. Truth be told, I like knowing that someone in this world has seen the worst of me. And knows me. And isn't afraid to remind of who I am. And doesn't have the extra ties of being married to me. Sometimes we all need that. That's what I needed this weekend--to find the motivation to dig deep within me and bring back to the surface some critical character traits I had buried years ago. It's funny how easily we can adapt to our circumstances and wander off-course. That's where I am right now. Just a littl...

"Keep an eye out for the local hotel when you get into town. You're gonna get a kick out of it." My husband had a lovely smirk on his face that told me I was in for a treat. He knows me all too well. I'm a sucker for anything that smacks of small town America. I pulled into the tiny farm town in the middle of nowhere Florida. All around me, I saw signs of life that you cannot find in well-manicured, gated communities. Box houses lined the streets in an array of colors. Kid paraphrenalia, saint statues, and lawn chairs adorned the yards. Women and children and men lined the sidewalks on foot and bikes. Glimpses of poverty surrounded me. So did a sense of life that you cannot find just anywhere. Families and friends share meals and long conversations. They have one goal: make a life out of what they have. They know what matters: holding on relationships. There are no homeowner's associations sending out letters because a basketball net is in the driveway or the gras...