Jesus/Faith – Page 2 – Hot Mess Mom

Eating organic part 2

We are slowly switching everything to organic. EVERYTHING! I have become obsessive about it now. It is super addicting. I am finding myself reading EVERY SINGLE LABEL. Which turns a quick grocery trip to a 2 hour grocery trip. Who am I kidding? Grocery trips are never short but now, they are super long. I switched from Trader Joe’s to Sprout’s. It seems to have a bigger selection. Although, I do still LOVE Trader Joe’s! Sprout’s has organic and non-organic. Even their non-organic is less processed. I am in love with that store. Hubs and I must have spent a majority of our grocery trip browsing through their bulk bins of nuts and dried fruits. I wanted EVERYTHING. Sprout’s is a bit more expensive. We figured it’s about $30 more than our groceries would have been at Wal-Mart. We still had to stop at Wal-Mart for diapers, toothpaste, and drugs. I haven’t switched our toiletries or diapers to organic. I tried the organic diapers and they sucked and were WAY more expensive. He will survive with Pampers. I know what you organic freaks are thinking…I can make my toothpaste, deodorant…etc. I don’t have enough time in the day to do that. Even if I did,…eh, my time is worth more than that. That,…or I’m too lazy. But GO YOU! Way to make your own stuff 🙂 Seriously, that’s really cool.

I am switching things slowly. I am finishing everything that we have that is processed, and then when we need more, I am buying the new stuff organic. For instance, we were out of butter and olive oil yesterday so I bought new. We are still using processed flour, condiments, and a lot of other things. I am too cheap to throw everything out and buy everything organic. So, we are finishing everything we have and then buying organic when we need it. That keeps hubs from having a heart attack at the store :).

My parents came up last weekend and we introduced them to our new way of life. I also made them watch Food Inc (on Netflix! it is an eye-opening documentary on the food industry) I’m sure they had a blast. They did love our new grocery store! And…they were in LOVE with our organic tacos. OHMYGOSH! Did I mention how unbelievably amazing those tacos were?! AMAZING! Organic vs. Non-organic is like eating something when you have a cold versus eating that same food without a cold. The flavors are just so much more pronounced and alive!

Along with eating organic, I am having smoothies for breakfast and lunch. They have made such an improvement in the way I feel and my mood. I saw the idea of freezing fruit ahead of time for smoothies on Pinterest. This is an amazing idea! It saves time in the mornings (which is great with an impatient baby!) and it keeps your fruit from going bad. Last week, we bought five boxes of strawberries for $5.00. They were going bad in the refrigerator so I made little zip lock baggies of fruit/veggies for my smoothies and threw them in the freezer!

A few have asked about my smoothie recipe. I don’t really have an exact recipe. I found a basic guide of making smoothies on…yep! you guessed it! Pinterest. I use coconut water, sometimes I add Greek yogurt, flax-seed (I’m going to try chia seeds next week), 1 banana (it masks the veggies), two different fruits (whatever I am feeling that day), kale, spinach, broccoli, and sometimes cauliflower. I usually use our bullet but sometimes I mix a big one up in our blender and save half for lunch.

On top of the clean eating I have started Insanity…again. Hopefully, this time I will stick to it. Insanity + Running + Eating clean will surely = BEACH BODY!! The problem with our grocery store is that it has some amazing “healthy” junk we can’t say no to. I shared a blueberry muffin with my little man this morning..meaning I ate most of it. So, I’m going to need to go work those 300 calories off!

– Court

{I’m a fan}

Last night we started our new study in life-group called “Not a Fan”. The premise of the study is: are you a fan or a follower? First, you have to define a fan and a follower to determine which category you fall into. Webster defines a follower as: “one that follows the opinions and teachings of another”. Another definition from Webster is: “one that imitates another”. The definition of a “fan” as Webster defines is “an enthusiastic devotee usually as a spectator. It is also defined as an “ardent admirer or enthusiast.”

This was such an eye-opening hit to the ego. If I am being honest, completely totally honest, I am a fan. I don’t follow every teaching of Jesus. I follow his teachings when they fit into my day, life, or situation. I follow him when it’s easy for me. As for the second definition…I definitely don’t imitate Jesus. Is being a “fan” enough to get me to Heaven? Maybe… but then there’s also a chance that Revelation 3:16 may just apply to me. It says: “So, because you are lukewarm neither hot nor cold, I am about to spit you out of my mouth.” That is nothing short of terrifying. I could live my entire life going to church, applying the Bible to some parts of my life, praying when I need something, before meals, at church, and at night and still God could say to me at the end of my life “Depart from me I never knew you”. Matthew 7:21-23

So, what does it mean to be a follower. I think a follower, a true follower, is someone who earnestly follows Jesus and his teachings at all times. Not just when they feel like it. The bottom line is that if I want to follow Jesus, if I want to honestly know him, I have to die to myself and this world…daily. I have to take up my cross and follow him Matthew 16:24. He commands us to love him with all of our heart, our mind, our strength, and our soul. He also commands us to love our neighbor as our self. He commands us to do that. Nowhere does it say: “when you are feeling good and things are going your way love me with all of your heart, mind, soul and strength. It doesn’t say: “love your neighbor as yourself when they are treating you well”. Oh, I wish it said those things. Because then…I would be categorized as a “follower”.

I was listening to the amazing T.D. Jakes this morning. He was preaching on love and God’s commandment of love. He commands us to love. Bishop Jakes illustrated that God wouldn’t command us to do something if we didn’t have the ability. He wouldn’t command us to transform into an animal, for example, because we don’t have that ability. But, since he did command us to love him and our neighbor, we must possess that ability. Which means that our excuses for not doing that don’t hold up. That’s some more bad news.

Not only should we do these things, we must to do these things, if we truly want to be a follower of Jesus. Those are some difficult commands.

To me, all of this means that I have to search God’s word and learn all that I can about Jesus. I have to understand his teachings and let them make an imprint on my heart. It means, that I have to learn to control my mind. It means that I have to fight my flesh daily. I have to bite my tongue, give up on winning every argument, I have to stop being lazy and complacent, I have to turn the other cheek, I have to love God more than I love myself and fight all of my earthly desires. I have to die to myself daily.

It’s a tall order for sure. But I am certain that it is more than worth it. So this is day one on my quest to become a true follower of Jesus.

– Court

{I’ve come to worship}

I’m gonna lift my hands
til I can reach heaven
I’m gonna shout your name
til the walls come falling down
Ive come to worship
Ive come to worship

That song spoke to me this weekend. We serve this BIG God. The God who created everything. The only thing we need to do to be in his presence is to worship.

Since I started going to a new church (7 years ago) I stopped worshiping like I used to. I used to LOVE Praise & Worship. I loved just being in His presence. I loved that I didn’t have to pray about anything, or ask for anything, or really do anything, but praise him. I loved just feeling Him all around me. It really is the greatest feeling in all the world. Then, when we moved to a bigger…a much bigger church, full of new people, new songs, and unfamiliar territory, I stopped. I became a spectator to praise and worship. I sang the songs and watched others worship. I would close my eyes sometimes but that was as far as I was willing to go. I was more concerned with what everyone else was thinking of me, than I was about what God was thinking of me. The one person I was most concerned about was my husband. Why I was so concerned with what he thought I have no clue. He has told me time and again how beautiful it is to him to see me worshiping. I think that it was hard for me because he and I worship differently. He doesn’t raise his hands and I do (did). So, I started trying to worship like him, but instead of worshiping like him, I wasn’t worshiping at all. Not worshiping is dangerous. It is dangerous because when we stop worshiping we start starving our soul.

I have recently started to dive into the word. This has been a constant struggle for me. While I have gotten so much closer to God in that way, and in my prayer life, I have neglected worshiping him. He laid that on my heart last Wednesday. While it is necessary to read the word, and to pray, it is also a necessity to worship. Reading the word feeds your mind, while praying and worshiping feed your soul. I was neglecting the soul part.

On Wednesday night, I stopped caring. I stopped caring what the person behind me was thinking, or what the person in front of me was thinking, I even stopped caring what the man beside me was thinking. All I was concerned about was what God was thinking of me. Truth be told, I doubt that any of those people were even thinking of me. I once heard Dr. Phil say: “you would stop worrying about what people think of you if you realized how little they actually do”. Wait! People don’t think about me?! No, no they don’t. That stings a bit doesn’t it? ha! So, those people at church weren’t looking at me thinking about me raising my hands? Nope! They were worshiping God. They weren’t worried about what I was doing. So all of that time (seven years) I was neglecting praising my Savior for nothing.

I dove in. I worshiped with all that I had. And it was one of the very greatest nights I have had in so long. I really love the verse “I’m gonna lift my hands til I can reach Heaven, I’m gonna shout your name till the walls come falling down”. We reach Heaven with our praise. When we praise God, all of that stuff that builds day after day between us and God, disappears. Then, it’s just us. Nothing else. What peace.

So if you are like me, and you worry a lot about what others think. Stop! Because they probably aren’t thinking about you. And…even if they are, who cares? Worry more about what God thinks. He’s the only one that really knows you. And…His opinion is really the only one that matters. So, “Sing your song like you are unashamed, sing for joy at the mention of his name”.

– Court

{Straight from my heart}

This one has been a long time coming. This blog has been torn straight from my heart…straight from my soul. I love to write and I write about semi-personal things. However, I have had this story on my heart since the day I started this blog. Now, now is the time.

As many of you may know our family has been through some rocky times. When I was in eighth grade my mom started getting sick. She and my dad visited the Mayo Clinic multiple times to figure out what was wrong with no luck. After numerous hospital visits, tests, possible diagnoses, and doctors she was diagnosed with something called NASH (non-alcoholic steato hepatitis). Which basically meant her liver was failing and for no apparent reason. She had none of the characteristics that a person typically diagnosed with this has. She had to stop teaching and was basically confined to our house and bed my whole high school career.

She suffered. We suffered. It was the single hardest thing I have ever faced. There were many times I questioned why my mom? Why us? What did we do? We had always went to church. We had always believed and trusted in God. So…why was this happening? My parents did a pretty good job of keeping my little sister and I sheltered from the worst of it. But sometimes, we peeked through the cracks and we saw the worst. In those times of weakness, sadness, worry, doubt, and death, HE was there.

He was there every time I saw my dad open his Bible to read. He was there in my Aunt’s unwavering faith. He was there when my mom and aunt habitually took the Lord’s supper. He was there in the form of a man that would end up being my husband. He was there in my grandmother’s prayers and my sisters’ tears. He was there in my mom’s strength. He was there when bills were paid. He was there in each meal or card we received. I remember finding verses on healing in the Bible and posting them all over our house. On the doors, in my mom’s room and her bathroom…everywhere. I would declare and pray the verses aloud every time I saw them. He was very much there.

She spent many many nights in the hospital. She was on a list to receive a transplant. She was called once around Christmas. However, she was too sick to undergo the transplant. We kept praying and believing…even when it looked impossible.

This picture is from Hoop Queen the January before she received her transplant. She had just had a liver biopsy (if I remember correctly) and was sent home with a pain patch. JUST so she could watch my sister and I walk for Hoop Queen. She was in so much pain. She was so strong.

If my mom ever reads this I will be in SO much trouble for sharing this picture. She hates it. So do I. It tears at my heart each time I see it. Our storm…her storm looked impossible that night. I was afraid I was losing my mom and I was afraid I was losing her quickly.Fast forward to May and we got THE CALL. The one that meant she would be saved. This hell was over. We packed up and left in the middle of the night to drive to St. Louis. I still remember stopping at the gas station with Trey, Shelley, and Ciara. I remember being so excited, nervous, scared, and thankful. I remember the song that played over the speakers outside the gas station “everything is going to be alright…rock a bye”. I felt like that was God calming my fears. We all thought it was our happily ever after.Fast forward a few hours. My mom has been prepped for surgery and is waiting to go in. We get a call. Its a NO GO. The liver from the donor is BAD. I cannot remember a time I have been more angry at God. I was so heartbroken. I remember thinking “really? Is this a joke to you? Do you think this is funny?” So back we went to the “normal” we knew. I remember her…she was so strong. She was so positive and HER faith was astonishing. Mine, mine was diminishing by the second.

Three months later we receive another call…at night (because for some reason these things don’t happen during the day). It was my dad’s birthday. I called my boyfriend (my hubs now) he was in Detroit interning at General Motors. He told me he would be on the first flight he could catch. I remember walking downstairs cautiously excited. My dad was in the living room getting things organized. I remember asking him “how do you know this is going to work? it will probably be bad again!” His reply, I will remember all my life…”Let’s pray”. Right there, in the middle of our living room, my little sister and I joined hands with my parents as my dad led us in the most powerful prayer I have ever heard. A few hours later…well a lot of hours later, my mom had a new liver.

The day my mom came home with her new liver. HIS grace is sufficient.

I told you all of that to tell you this. No matter what your storm is, God is BIGGER. I have been struggling with some things. I have been struggling with personal, little, everyday things. I haven’t been able to shake them,no matter what I do. Tonight at church we sang Cornerstone. The part that spoke to me is this:Christ alone; cornerstone
Weak made strong; in the Savior’s love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of allAnd then he spoke to my heart. He asked me why I trusted him with my mom but I couldn’t trust him with my own personal struggles. Why do I keep picking up those struggles up seconds after laying them at his feet? Then I thought about the lyrics…Through the storm HE IS LORD.

He is the God who made the Universe. He is the God who hung the stars. He is the God who knew us before we were born. So, why can’t I trust this awesome God with something so small? Because, instead of letting go and letting God, I tried to control the problem. You see, with my mom, I had no control. I HAD to give it to him. With big things in my life I have no control. But with little things I think I have control. In my own arrogance I decide to help God.

God doesn’t need our help. Whatever you are going through…know that our God’s grace is sufficient. If he can hang stars and form the mountains and heal my mom, he can take care of whatever you are facing. Let go, and Let God.

My sweet Jesus healed my mom. I am SO thankful he did. Because without his perfect blood, I wouldn’t have these moments.

– Court

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{Quarter life crisis}

I have come to the very sad conclusion that I am in the middle of a quarter(ish) life crisis. I never really believed in those until, well…now. My actual quarter of life was last year, but I guess I am a late bloomer. When I was little, I always heard adults talking about how “time flies”. They would make comments about how they couldn’t believe how this child or that child had “grown up before their eyes”. I would just smile politely all the while thinking “whatever…” Now, I understand. Time flies. In school it was slow…it was painfully slow. College was also painfully slow. Then it was like I got put on a fifteen second roller coaster. We wanted to start a family…bam I am pregnant. Then just like that… bam our baby is here. Now, he is almost eight months old. EIGHT MONTHS OLD. Which means that in a few short months he will be one year old. Then, I might as well start packing up his stuff for college. I feel like it was yesterday I found out I was pregnant. But it wasn’t yesterday…it was, in fact, 16 months ago. I went to peak in on my little baby tonight, instead I found this not so little baby sleeping in the very top corner of his crib, as if he passed out while trying to escape. I knew he was growing up, but seeing him pulling up on everything today, really pushed me over the edge.

I also turned twenty-six this year. Yep…you read that correctly 26. FOUR years away from….you know…don’t make me say it. How is that possible? For some strange reason, twenty-five did not bother me. Twenty-six bothers me a lot. So much so, that I gave my father strict instructions that my birthday cake was to say 25, not 26. This past August, we celebrated my grandma’s 90th birthday.

That brought on a whole new wave of emotions. No, not the “oh, she sure is growing up” emotions like my little man…but the “how many more birthdays will I get to celebrate with her?” emotions. My husband will be 30 in August. For those of you past 30…don’t hate on me for this blog. I’m sure you had similar emotions as you were nearing this dreaded age. I just cannot understand how I am this old. I am totally and completely getting old. I am thinking adult thoughts, I am worrying about adult things, I am saying and doing things my mother did/does, I don’t even know what is considered “cool” anymore, and after owning an iPhone for almost four years I still don’t know how to use all of the features, and I have now started to use wrinkle creams. Because…I figure I better get a head start on it now!
Where does life go? Why did it seem so slow when I was younger? Why am I so nostalgic about everything? I can’t walk into my little guy’s nursery without flashbacks of us decorating it. I can’t drive by the hospital without thinking about the last time we were there. I can’t shake the feeling that I need to call my grandma at least once a week because if I don’t I might regret it later. I know what you are thinking…”that’s life honey…just enjoy each moment.” At least, that’s what my husband told me as I was sobbing into his chest earlier. That is hard for me to accept. Because, I am the girl who has always enjoyed every moment. I am the one who saves voice mails, cards, movie ticket stubs, and even boarding passes. I think I have taken a picture of my little man every single day of his life. I savor every second and document every moment. Still, life flies by. Is motherhood just a huge emotional ball of nostalgia and worry? If so, I don’t ever remember signing up for that.
I guess there is nothing I can do to slow it down. I will have to keep savoring and documenting. I will continue to hold on to each moment until my knuckles turn white. I will replay every sweet memory in my head and my dreams until a new one happens. I will continue to wish and pray that time would slow down even just a bit. If that doesn’t work, I guess I will have to just thank God that I have a life so blessed that I wish it would slow down.

– Court

{My Guy}

“Everyone has a love story, ours is my favorite” Let me take a minute and tell you about my guy. After almost six years of marriage, I really thought we had this marriage thing figured out. I didn’t understand how couples had relationship/marital problems. Our marriage had always been so easy. I heard somewhere “real marriage doesn’t begin until you have a baby”. This.Is.So.True.
Ohmygosh! Unlike a lot those lucky couples, we were not prepared to bring a baby home (mentally speaking). Our house was perfectly clean, nursery was picture perfect, diapers were stocked, and of course we had taken a four-week course entitled childbirth. We really thought we had this down. All that we lacked was that perfect quiet baby… ha! What we hadn’t taken, was a four-week course entitled how to survive. They really should add that one. seriously, …they should!
We sent my mom home with my dad…we didn’t need her because we so had this covered. Little did we know, we would be calling her to come back just a few days later.
My little man had his days and nights mixed up, wouldn’t sleep in his bassinet, cried a lot, had reflux, and I had the mastitis. I learned very quickly that we didn’t have this thing figured out….not even close. How were we supposed to survive? Didn’t this kid know we needed sleep? Oh, how you come to appreciate even twenty minutes of sleep. What this taught me, is how very much my husband loves me.
I was awful ( I might elaborate in a future blog…if I am feeling brave). I cried a lot, especially, that first night. The picture I had in my head, you know, the one of the sleeping beautiful newborn wrapped up in their bassinet? The one where the mom and dad are all snuggled up watching him? Where they talk about how in love they are? um…ours didn’t look like that. Mine looked like a crying mama, a crying baby, no sleep, haven’t showered in days, house a mess, and a rock of a husband. Yes, he was also a bit sleep deprived, but I didn’t see it.
He took our baby and fed him, rocked him, walked with him. He slept with him on his chest. He encouraged me daily. He told me how beautiful I was (in my haven’t showered in days, just gave birth, gigantic ta-tas body). He told me how great of a mom I was (even with a screaming baby), he kissed me and held me (when I wasn’t kissable or holdable). He went to every appointment (in fact, he hasn’t missed an appointment. yet! and that includes every single prenatal appointment). He let me sleep when he needed sleep desperately. He searched high and low for things to do to brighten my day…to make my day easier. He brightened my day when I was crying, and sad. He did it when I felt incomplete and worthless. He did it when I looked awful and felt awful. He did it when I needed it most. He loves me more than I can ever comprehend. How did I deserve this man? I don’t. I will never deserve him. I am so thankful for him.
That girls….that is a love story.

– Court

{Christmas Conflict}

It’s 5am so this blog may be more rambling than anything else (you can’t say I didn’t that warn you). I can’t sleep. I woke up thinking about Christmas and the never ending list that still needs to be taken care of. There are toys that still need to be bought, gifts to be sent, and cards that need addressed. It seems that every year I am equally as stressed about all of these things. Since I couldn’t sleep, I went downstairs and got on my Ipad. I wanted to make a list because that’s how I deal with all of the mess that goes on inside my head. During my list making, my little man woke up. I went to get him to feed him. My husband woke up and wanted to know what I was doing (he usually takes the night feedings…yes, I know, I’m spoiled). I told him I was already awake and explained my thoughts. He told me that I always have to find something to stress about, this is true. That leads me to the point of all my rambling. Why does Christmas bring so much stress? It is supposed to be a celebration of our savior’s birth. Yet, we have complicated it as only we can do. We have turned it into this commercialized mess.

I’m certain, that years down the road, my child is going to ask me why he received three presents instead of four. He will be so upset that I didn’t get him that rocking horse he so desperately wanted at six months of age. He will be scarred for life.
Why do we do this? Is it because we have become brainwashed by society? Is it because we feel like we can buy happiness? No, I don’t think that is the correct answer. I mean…I’m sure many believe that. I don’t. It is not my truth.

I’m going off base for a minute. My love language is words of affirmation. For those of you that have no idea what I’m talking about, pick up a copy of the five love languages, it will change your world. Anyway, my primary love language is not gift giving, but it runs a close second. Receiving gifts is not my thing, my thing is giving them. Before you start to think I am super materialistic, I am not. In fact, in a lot of ways, I am the opposite. I love giving gifts. I love seeing the reaction. I love seeing the person’s eyes light up. I love letting them know that they are thought of, and that they are very special to me.

This is why I go overboard with Christmas. This is why I stress so much. I want everyone to feel the joy and excitement of the day. And… to be completely honest, I do love being the person who got someone the “perfect gift”.

The conflict that I have, is that I also feel very selfish and materialistic when I think of all of those that don’t have. I think of those that struggle to just give one gift to their children. I start to think about how precious life is. I think about how none of these things really matter. I think about how I can’t even remember what I got for Christmas last year. I’m sure you probably can’t remember what you got either. Then, I hate myself for worrying so much about how many gifts my 6 month old will open. How ugly is that? It’s pretty ugly.

Sadly, I will probably always have this struggle. I will continue to buy gifts and worry about them being the right ones. I will worry if one my my family members got the gift they were so wanting. And…I will still lay awake some nights wondering why I am so blessed to have these problems. If you have the same problem as me, don’t beat yourself up. You genuinely want to bring joy to others. Remember, that whether or not your kid got one more gift really doesn’t matter (if it does matter, then we should be having a “come to Jesus meeting” with our children). Maybe, instead of giving that one more gift to your child, find a child that is in need and give it to them. If gift giving is your thing, don’t feel bad about it. Just make sure that you are also giving to those in need. And…that you are thanking God daily for the blessings that you have been given.

Happy gift giving 🙂

– Court
p.s.
sorry for the rambling. now I can sleep!

This is a “gift” that my nephew (5yrs at the time) gave his mom for her birthday. Proof that gift giving really comes from the heart 🙂

{Who do you want to be?}

I don’t know if it is my age, or if it is my stage in life. Lately, I feel enlightened or…awakened. All that is on my mind lately is self-improvement. Do you ever feel like we spend so much time and energy on the outside that we often neglect the inside? I do. I told my dad not long ago that I wished there was a “gym” for my soul. I know…church is that “gym”. However, I need a more regular gym than every Sunday, occasional Wednesday, and life group. My soul needs a “workout” daily because it gets fat, lazy, weak, and just plain ugly very quickly. That leads me to the question: who do you want to be? Do you have a picture of her in your head? I do.

Who is she? She is made of the best qualities of those closest to me and of those that I admire from afar.

My grandmother is someone I would love to end up like. She has all of the qualities I wish to possess. My most favorite is her kindness. She is even “naively” kind. She is kind to those that are not kind to her. She loves those that don’t love her. And…she isn’t kind because she feels like she needs to be. She isn’t kind because she is striving to be a better person (like me) she just is.

I want to be confident even when I don’t feel confident. if you know me, you know that I have a hard time hiding my feelings. If I feel intimidated, I look intimidated. I am learning that confidence doesn’t mean that you are arrogant. Confidence means that you are comfortable in your own skin. Oh, to be comfortable in this skin….

I want to be humble. I LOVE that quality. There is something so very attractive about a humble person. I think one of the ugliest qualities, if not the ugliest, is arrogance. I actually hate it. That quality is why I didn’t want to have a blog. I don’t ever want to give off the impression that I think I am better…because I am not. I could write a whole blog on the things that are wrong with me (stay tuned I’m sure it will appear one of these days!) Confidence and humility go hand in hand, oddly enough. One of these days I will figure that one out!
I want to be generous and helpful. I want to be generous and helpful in every month (not just December). I want to spend time helping those in need. One of my most favorite quotes in the Bible is Matthew 25:40 The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ I really believe that a lot of us are just one pay check, one lost job, one accident, one sickness away from being “the least of these”. So many people, maybe you, helped my family when my mom was sick. Some sent money to help pay bills, some made food, some visited us in the hospital, some helped take care of my sister and I. There are too many things to even list. Let me take the time to say thank you. Thank you for showing us the love of Jesus. Thank you for being so kind and generous. Thank you for caring about us. I don’t know how we would have made it through without the help, support, and prayers of our community. The point? I want to be one of those people.

Have you ever been around someone who just made you feel better about yourself? After talking to them you felt genuinely happy and encouraged. Like when you are talking to them, you feel as though you are the most important person in the world. I have. I have met quite a few of those people. I want to be one of those people. I want to be the type of person that others are genuinely happy to see.

Of course this is not an exhaustive list of all of the qualities I wish to possess. And… you don’t have time to read them all. How do I become that person? The only answer I have, is to display those qualities, even when I don’t feel them. Then, maybe I will transform into “her” one of these days. Who do you want to be? what does “she” look like? I think the world would be a better place if we all spent more time worrying about the size of our heart instead of the size of our jeans.

– Court

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