Growing up, the living room was our ‘fancy’ room. I have vivid memories of the powder blue velvet brocade couch that sat regally in the living room of our house when I was a little girl. This was where we would sit when we wanted a nice photo. Or where guests would be invited to sit when they stopped by. But, even though it was definitely the space that held our nicest furniture, it was never off-limits to us as kids. We played with our dolls in there, dressed up like Laura and Mary and acted out scenes from Little House on the Prairie and I know my mom would work on her sewing projects in there because one time I stepped on a pin that had sunk down into the shag carpet. It was easy for things to get lost in shag carpet. It also conveniently disguised any blood that came as a result from stepping on a pin. Just sayin’.
It’s so hard to follow God when He answers our prayers so differently than we imagined He would. I know I’ve experienced this many times in my own life and today I’m so thrilled to be welcoming my friend Stephanie Shott to the picket fence to share the lessons she learned when God answered a prayer in a way that didn’t make any sense at the time. I know we can all relate to this and I pray you are encouraged by her words!
I thought he had lost his mind! Costa Rica? That’s on the other side of the globe!
For seven years my heart heard drums pounding hard in the distance. I visioned lions lying in wait for their prey and Swahili spoken in villages full of precious people in need of Christ.
My prayers and plans had taken root in Africa but my new reality was beginning to unfold in an unfamiliar land and in an unexpected plan.
I knew God was calling us to the mission field for seven long years before my husband heard the call. Day after day I cried out to God to place on my husband’s heart the same passion He had placed on mine. At times the burden was too much to bear.
Getting a call during the day from your kids’ school always brings heart palpitations.
Are they in trouble?
Are they hurt?
Are they in trouble?
Are they sick?
Are they in trouble?
Hey guys! It is so boiling hot over here at redheadcandecorate.com (88 degrees) that I am wearing flip flops today, and my air conditioning bill is higher than it was in July. Isn’t that crazy? I guess I’m not really complaining, but it does feel odd when I do a little Fall decorating. Our porch this year is all about “being cozy” and boy we are definitely cozy up here in Michigan this year 😯 . So, to cool us off, and hopefully put us all in the mood for Fall, I ventured out in beautiful blog land and collected “6 Gorgeous Fall Tours (you will love)”…
My plan for Monday was to run errands, do laundry, get some work done and bake pumpkin bread.
On Sunday night, as per usual, I placed my online grocery order and made sure to get the large can of pumpkin.
Then, I woke up on Monday morning to the news of the horrific act of violence in Las Vegas. I sat there in the darkness at 6am staring at the television, knowing my kids would soon wake up and come downstairs and I would have to try to explain to them what was happening. To attempt, for their benefit, to make sense out of something so senseless.
I felt paralyzed. My body didn’t want to move. The magnitude of what I was watching was like a weight holding me in place.
But, my kids needed breakfast. They needed to get to school. I needed to pick up my groceries.
What do we do in these moments? How do we try to do things that are so normal when everything in the world seems anything but?
Friends, we are so thrilled and honored to be welcoming Courtney Westlake to the picket fence today. She has such an amazing and inspiring story to share with you and we know you will be so blessed by her words.
I wanted to jump into the conversation happening a few feet away from me, to explain, maybe to defend, but I held back.
I craned my neck a bit, waiting to hear what my children would say to the little girl who had just asked about my daughter’s red, peeling skin.
So, my husband and I are attending a banquet this week and I realized that I don’t really have anything that qualifies as ‘cocktail party’ attire. So, yesterday I found myself in the Macy’s dressing room with an armload of dresses and quickly became aware that since I am neither a ‘mother-of-the-bride’ or a teenager (praise Jesus!), my options for fancy dresses were dwindling rapidly. Nothing fit quite right. They were either too fancy or too poofy or too beady or too short (for the love of all that is good and holy how do these girls get out the door in dresses that are THAT short?!) and as I exited the mall I was fairly certain that I was just going to wear my sweats to the banquet and call it good. Elastic waistbands for the win!
I was really looking for that elusive ‘just right’. And, while I may not have found it in the Macy’s dressing room, I’m pretty sure I’ve found it in my dining room. Because ever since we had it painted and freshened up, I can’t help but think that this how it was always meant to look.
Like finding the perfect dress, it’s flattering in all the right places. It hugs the curves and shows off the best sides. It’s effortless.
I have a confession to make…
sometimes I talk to inanimate objects.
Case in point, over the weekend I began packing away the last remnants of my summer decor to make way for all of the fall-ness to come, and as I placed a bag of seashells in the plastic summer decorating bin I whispered to them, “See you next year guys!”
And, I know that when it comes time to open the lid of the box of Christmas ornaments I will gaze down at them and quietly say, “Hello, old friends!”
This is totally normal, right? Right? Because, I’m not sure I really have any control over it. It just comes over me.
This need to bid farewell or say hello to my seasonal decor.
We stood in the lobby of the hotel in downtown Atlanta anxiously waiting and watching for her to come through the sliding doors. We were pretty sure we knew what she looked like but it’s always so hard to tell when all you have to go on is a tiny profile photo.
And then, the doors opened and there she was. Sparkly flip-flops, flip-flopping as quickly as her tiny feet could go, blonde, curly hair bouncing and the unmistakeable red lipstick (actually I think it was more like hot pink that day but her claim to fame is her red lips so we’ll go with that).