My Year Of Purpose

When I stated that year twenty-nine would be my year of purpose, I didn't know just how purpose-filled it would turn out to be. It was the year when I vowed to learn the art of the three-layer cake, and with a few month hiatus due to pregnancy food aversion, I believe I did. It was just one of many things that I wanted to do ... that I can now look back and say, I did.

The year began with purpose of my own accord, but quickly evolved into purpose of another sort ... that of preparing for motherhood, a huge move, and one of the biggest transitions of my life to date. People often say that the three big deals in life are when you move, when you begin a new job and when you have your first child. Doing all three at one time was not only a little on the crazy side, but also a serious act of faith. Just believing God to be who He says He is ... one more time. 

I set out in January of last year to read the bible, chronologically, from Genesis to Revelation. There were many times that I questioned why I hadn't done it before ... because my understanding became so much greater, and God, so much bigger. But ... I know that it was no coincedence that in this last year I made the choice to do this. God revealed himself to me every single day of 2012 in an entirely new way ... in Genesis, the breath of life ... in Job, our redeemer ... in Hosea, faithful ... in Nahum, our strength ... in Romans, grace ... in James, our healer ... in Revelation, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Who was, and is, and is to come.

A year of purpose. Well spent.

A few weeks back, I told Liss that my 30th year would be the year I survive. And she looked at me and said, no, your 30th year is the year you will thrive.

So I am believing those words for year thirty. New beginnings, new places, new people ... a year to thrive.

The Twenties: Where I've Been & What I've Learned Along The Way

I am full of reflection on the eve of my 30th birthday. A decade I will never regain is about to end, and I am flooded with memories and emotions that come on the cusp of the milestones of our lives.

I am a firm believer that in order to fully appreciate where you are, you have to know where you’ve been. Looking back, my twenties feel like a whirlwind of growth and constant movement … when I turned twenty years old I was single, a sophomore in college, and living in Jackson, Tennessee. And yet, just three months later I met the person I would spend the rest of the decade falling in love with. We never know when that moment will be, do we? The moment that changes the course in a life’s direction, the wind in the sails …

And I think that has been one of the most exciting parts of the twenty-something years … mostly because those moments of definition seem rather endless throughout this decade.

I have often heard that people enjoy their thirties and forties and fifties because they feel more comfortable in their own skin, more secure in all things life. And I think there’s probably a lot of truth to that statement. But even still, there’s a part of me that knows I will miss aspects of my twenties in the decades to come – the freedom, the discovery – and if nothing else, no wrinkles.

This was the decade that I learned who I was, what I was made of, and where I was going.

In my twenties, I was a sorority girl, roommate, and editor-in-chief of my college newspaper. In my twenties, I rode a camel through the Sahara Desert, survived malaria {a broken arm, and a wrist surgery} … held various internships, and graduated from college. In my twenties, I moved to Memphis, began life on my own, interviewed for everything from a bridal magazine to a cotton magazine to an advertising agency to a public relations firm, before accepting an offer with a real estate investment trust with a niche in collegiate housing. In my twenties, I got engaged, married, honeymooned in the Virgin Islands, bought my first home, renovated my first home and set out on the great adventure of marriage. In my twenties, I traveled all across the United States with Corporate America wearing stiletto heels and the perfect black suit. I flew over everything from the Great Salt Lake to Mount Ranier, the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Tetons and Swiss Alps. I traveled to Europe and Africa, islands all through the Caribbean … and at last count, have only 8 more states of the United to see. In my twenties, I became a part of marketing and public relation societies, book and bunco clubs, supper clubs, bible studies, country club, a much beloved small group. I served on a marketing committee representing the Boys & Girls Club of Greater Memphis, tutored at-risk youth in reading and writing, and adopted a little boy from Haiti through sponsorship. In my twenties I lost two of my grandparents, and a slew of great aunts and uncles, all from the greatest generation, all some of my favorite people ever. I ran countless 5Ks and three half marathons, and along the way did the thing I thought I could not do. I wrote for papers and magazines, for work, and for therapy … right here on this blog. I read countless books, wrote even more in my head, saw Broadway shows and concerts, plays and art exhibits, museums and monuments. Took some really incredible trips … and ate some really, really good food {lobster rolls in Boston, deep dish in Chicago, Tex-Mex in Austin, cheese steaks in Philly, crabs in Annapolis and San Francisco, shrimp and grits in Charleston and the best barbeque of my life … in Memphis, Tennessee}.

A lot of the time, I had the time … so I took the back roads.

And I learned … that God works all things {good, bad, ugly, sad} for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. I learned in looking back, that I wouldn’t do any of it any differently although I wouldn’t necessarily relive it all either … on some occasions, living it once … was enough. I learned that sometimes you have to be your own hero. I learned how to be a hostess and give a dinner party with silver and crystal and just the right amount of candlelight. I learned the meaning of success, hard work and hard won. I also learned what it meant to lose, to fail, to fall flat on my face … and I learned what it meant to pull myself out of the pit, hold my head up, and … move on.

I learned how to be a friend from a distance … to continue friendships from miles and states and sometimes countries away. I learned the art of being satisfied with who I am, who I am not, who I want to be, and who I will never be. I learned that a slow mile run; is still a mile run. I learned that since I am prone to passing out, when I feel it coming on - if I lie down as quickly as possible, the risk of injury and an ambulance coming to my rescue are greatly reduced. I learned how to make a three-layer cake with rocking awesome buttercream. I learned how to cope with anxiety and stress, saying no to headaches and panic attacks, and in essence, saying no to fear. I learned that the world is small, and that there are really kind people out there – in every town, every state and so on.

I learned to say something, even at times when it’s hard to find the words.

~

The most important thing I learned in my twenties, however, was that every prayer that God didn’t answer, every no He saw fit to give me, was just the backside of another yes. I prayed to know Him more, for utter dependence and faith … and He gave me brokenness that in Him I might not only find all of these, but what it means to trust His plan for my life … not just in the best times, but more specifically, in the hardest. My twenties taught me that very few people in this world go through life unscathed. Every one of us has been afraid of something, loved something, and lost something.

This next chapter, this new decade, promises to be entirely different than the last. In just about every way I can begin to imagine – and then some. Ten years ago I was a single college girl, living in Tennessee … now ten years later, married and nearly a mother … taking over the family business and coming home. I don’t know what the days, months and years to come will hold for me, but it doesn’t really matter … because I know the One who holds me and I know what three decades of life experience has taught me, and so I enter the thirty-something years with less fear, more confidence, gained wisdom, thicker skin, stronger faith, and very few regrets. Being able to say those words is perhaps the truest blessing … so thankful.

Here’s to the next bend in this long and winding road, cheers to 30.

In My Heart

The reality of our life hit me today … while the rest of the world (or so it seems) is busy putting up trees and stockings, we spent another day sifting and organizing, throwing out and putting up … packing. And here’s the thing: I hate packing. And you know how I am about that word. But such is our current reality; boxes and miscellaneous madness thrown here, there and everywhere. We are moving in January but I’m trying to stay way ahead of the game (and my growing stomach) and be efficient with my time and energy (the bright side of packing … forced purging).

We went to our favorite hole in the wall Mexican restaurant tonight and split fajitas. Little multi-colored Christmas lights strung and fake poinsettias surrounded us when I said aloud what I had been thinking all day … how different our entire world is about to be. I am reminded of it every time I feel him kick within me, each time I think about saying goodbye to our friends and family here. I’m reminded of it as I drive to work each morning. Different.

So as our home is packed room by room and the usual traditions that fill this time of year pass us by (no Christmas tree of our own, no seasonal traveling, etc.) … I am embracing the quiet moments where I can and the simplicity of forgoing all of the aforementioned usual. I’m reflecting on my year of purpose and all that was accomplished. I’m thankful that in the midst of my twenty-ninth year, God gave me a precious gift, teaching me (once again) that the best things in life cannot be planned. I love that even though this Advent season is different from so many others, it’s still filled with much of the same…

…Joy and peace, comfort and hope, love and longing … for what is to come. It’s this year that I understand it all anew. Reading through the Gospels each morning and drinking my hot chocolate, pondering all of these things – and then some – in my heart.

Homeward Bound

When I was little girl and we would begin to head down the quarter of a mile drive that led to our house, my mom would say, home again home again jiggity jig!

And all of these years later, here I am, and in my head … repeating those exact words.

I left the great state of Florida still – in many ways – that young girl. I was only 18, which … while at the time seemed so adult, now feels so young. I had the world at my fingertips, adventure ahead ... and wide open spaces. I look back on my college years, and my twenties, and see growth in abundance and dreams fulfilled. I did so many things that I wanted to do—and more than I thought I would ever do. I had the career that I had dreamt about as a girl (writing, traveling, meeting new people, seeing new things), I fell in love, I met so many amazing people – many of my dearest friends …

But like I have written so many times before, a season is only a season … and this particular one will soon be coming to a close. There will be new dreams, new adventures, new people and places and things in the next … and because I have gone down this path before, leaving the familiar of my life to take the road less traveled … I am so excited. I come to this place, this crossroads, like I have come to so many others … expecting great things.

This all being said … I turned in my letter of resignation a few weeks ago, effective January 11th. Goodbyes have never been my strong suit and the word change has been my enemy more often than not. But both are essential, necessary, needed. We never become who we are called to be, and who we want and need to be, if we don’t take a step forward.  

So in January 2013, Paul and I will be taking a (rather large) step and moving to Florida. We will move to my hometown where Paul will work for the company my dad has built from the ground up for the last forty years (and that Paul will eventually transition into taking over). The photograph above is actually of the driveway that leads to our new “home sweet home” in Ocala. I don’t believe it’s a coincidence in the least that the corner of our lot meets with two other pieces of land – one being my grandparent’s farm (now a development), the very same land that my grandparents brought my dad home to after he was born … and the other lot, the house my parents lived in after they got married, where they brought me home after I was born, and where I spent the first three years of my life.

It has taken me years to come to the realization that sometimes where you started, is right back where you belong.

And so if you think about it … please say a prayer for us, as within a six week period of time, we will leave our jobs, family, friends, and life in Memphis … for a new state, new city, new home, new job (for Paul) and new baby. As one who has nursed a lifelong aversion to change, I’m now taking a baseball bat to it and knocking it out of the park. So many have asked if I’m stressed to the gills, anxious, and on and on … and I can honestly say, no. That’s the nice part about having some life under my belt, and nearly thirty years of experience …… you know that the words found in Jeremiah, for I know the plans I have for you says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future … has already been a promise kept.

Over and again.

Saying goodbye to my changing seasons, my old South, my favorite barbeque and the queens of Dixie {not to mention the life we have made here – our family, our friends, our work, our church} will be no easy thing, but where Memphis is concerned, it will never be a true goodbye, just a see you later.

Until then … home again. Jiggity jig :)

The Birthday Cake Of Choice

This month’s three-layer was the carrot cake, a special request made by today’s birthday boy. I used the recipe given to me by a dear family friend of ours in Ocala … she is the quintessential Southern woman ... and so if Becky Nation makes you a cake, take notes. She made her carrot cake for me when I was growing up {for many of my birthdays} and for dad’s too. It really is the "best of the best" as far as carrot cakes go and every time I make it, I think of her, and how wonderful and special she is to so many.

Happy Birthday to Paul Bruce – my life’s greatest adventure. You know you have my heart. xo

Hummingbird Cake

I made my February cake this afternoon … the hummingbird cake. I chose to make the 3-layer hummingbird cake with cream cheese frosting {all from scratch} because it’s one of my all-time favorites, it reminds me of my grandparents {also lovers of the hummingbird} … and it reminds me of Mary’s bridesmaid luncheon and those scrumptious hummingbird cupcakes we all had for dessert at the Mockingbird Café last summer.

This recipe came from Martha Stewart’s website and the fine print made me laugh out loud. Here was Martha’s take, “some say this Southern layer cake earned its name because each otherworldly bite makes you hum with delight. Another theory is that it’s as sweet as the sugared water used to attract its hovering namesake. Note: this recipe is courtesy of Paula Deen.”

Yep. Even Martha “good thing” Stewart knows that if you’re going to make the best of Southern cakes, you better call up the Southern woman herself.

The recipe received five stars on the website and I have to agree. After I finished the frosting, I had to sit down in the nearest chair to lick the spoon. Sometimes savoring the moment means giving yourself to the moment.

Defining Moments

I am not, in definition or in deed, a type-A personality. I exhibit certain type-A behaviors at times; I am organized, like a certain level of control {gulp} and have the normal first born child tendencies, but I don’t possess the everyday, grind it out, that would put me in the same category of the more classic type-A person.

All of this being said, when reflecting on what it means to be purposeful in my life, the act of discipline is an area that can always be improved upon. I’m not talking life altering personality and temperament changes here … just being more mindful and diligent of my time and investments … which led me to the following …

Exercise. And the fact that I make excuses both in mind and body about it all. the. time. I have a love/hate relationship with exercise, and I always have. I recognize that it needs to be done {and about 80% of the time, I do it}, but there are so many other ways I would rather spend my evenings after days of wild in Corporate America. Dinners out, social gatherings, peace and quiet … let me count thy ways.

And so, in month two of trying to live a more purpose-filled year twenty-nine and beyond {no drum roll needed, half of the world already does this and the other half is screaming out, go back to bed!}, I made the decision to start waking up at 5:15 every morning.

… I told Paul on morning 1 of this new, fantastic idea that I actually hated myself from about 5:15 until 6:30. But I’m keeping at it … and here’s a small observation made about getting to the gym long before the sun comes up Monday thru Friday: every single person there at that {ridiculous} hour is in good shape. There is something to be said about discipline here: it works. And if I am set on taking full advantage of my time and opportunities from here on out, being a deeply devoted non-morning person had to go.

And here’s the truth: there is something defining about the day you examine who you are and make the conscious choice to be someone different, to be someone better … and I don’t care how old you are when you make that choice, twenty-nine or fifty-two or eighty-three.

Defining moments à life change à being purposeful.

Four Glimpses

I think a sense of purpose is different for everyone. It’s a matter of perspective and circumstance, worldview and dream. In month one of my self-professed “purpose-filled twenty-ninth year”, here are four small glimpses of some of my own, I am being purposeful moments …

The baking of a three-layer chocolate cake. I had to melt the chocolate in a bowl over boiling water. I had to grease cake pans and then put in parchment paper, grease the paper, flour it and then pour the batter in. I had to sift and add slowly and beat – not whip – and measure exact amounts. I have never been a baker {as I have mentioned previously}, but I want to learn the art of making a really good, decent cake. And surprisingly enough … my patience were not as thin as I thought they might be with the precision this and precise that. I actually really loved it. Ina’s chocolate cake was a raving success on a personal and foodie note, so, stay tuned for the February edition...

I began reading through the bible chronologically {it’s a one-year plan, cover to cover, in chronological order} … and for someone who has pursued a relationship with Christ since coming to faith as a child, I am continually stunned by the richness and power and truth of God’s word. There’s just something about reading it all in order, every single day … that has made this profound impact on how I live – what I think about, what I pursue. And how the scriptures I have read and heard my entire life have the power to change me … again. It’s the best part of my day … from roughly 6 a.m. on … when it’s just me, my coffee and the Lord. I crave it. It’s a journey of all is grace on this road of faith … and I’m thankful to be in this season.

Earlier this month I contacted two very distant cousins … as in, our great-great-great grandparents were siblings. One is an artist in San Francisco and one a fellow Floridian. We have spent the month corresponding … trading information that we have on our family … letters written in the 1800s, dates and connections. The most beautiful part of meeting these two women is seeing that no matter the distance, the space, the time … the spiritual heritage we were given by our great-great-great grandparents {and even beyond them} … continues. There has been no shortage of loss in any of these lines, no shortage of hardship … but the faith that was passed from one generation to the next … not only continues, but always sustains {Psalm 78:4}.

And … last but not least … the book club. For literary lovers … a book club seems somewhat of a staple. After being passive on the subject for a few years, I sent out an email this month to get the ball rolling. We meet for the first time on Thursday night to pick a book and have dessert ... in my living room. I can hardly wait :)

So amazing how purpose translates so quickly into growth and contentment – and, when you get it right, pure joy. Not really surprised by this ... just grateful.

Cheers to month 1.

Chocolate Layer Cake

As part of my "be purposeful" in year twenty-nine and because life is too short ... I am vowing to bake cakes this year - and box mixes and runs to the french bakery are out of the question. We are talking from scratch. I began today with Ina Garten's "Beatty's Chocolate Cake." A rich layer cake with the secret ingredient of 1 cup of hot coffee poured into the batter. My kitchen is a disaster as is the decorating kit that I received as a wedding gift {and used for the first time tonight}, but be assured ... twenty-nine never tasted so good.