Last week was a whirlwind of fun. (As I said here, Stuart and I were blessed to be able to go to Disney World with my family for free. It was an incredibly fun trip, and one I’ll remember for the rest of my life.) It came and it went way too fast, but we drank in every moment, and enjoyed ourselves immensely.
Raise your hand if you need a vacation…
Yea me too. Well, bad news for Stell, good news for us: Stuart and I are off to the “Happiest Place on Earth” this weekend! (Stell is staying home with Stuart’s parents.) We are SOOO excited! This trip was planned and booked over a year ago, and we are incredibly blessed to be going for free.
Over the past few months, my posts have been mostly about living fully even while in limbo, being intentional in every moment, and creating authentic culture wherever that culture may be. Basically, keeping it real, right where you are.
Even when you don’t necessarily love where you are.
Even when you don’t necessarily love what you’re doing.
Even when it feels like that certain thing you’re waiting for is taking FOR.EV.ER.
I FINALLY finished Francine River’s Mark of the Lion series. It may have taken me months to finish them, but they really were great books. As each one came to a finish, I couldn’t put them down. Seriously! I finished the last book Saturday night at 2:15am…which was actually 3:15am (thanks Daylight Savings).
I’m not gonna lie, I’m such a sucker for series.
After facing the death of my grandmother last week, I’ve learned a lot of things about the effects of a loved one’s death. It can get you so down that you choose to stay under the covers all day (which I did…ok, maybe not the WHOLE day, but close enough). It can cause you to take your grief out on those you love (which I also did…sorry Stuart).
My beloved Mor-Mor went to be with Jesus on Saturday. You may be wondering where the name “Mor-Mor” came from. You’re not alone. “Mor-Mor” is the Swedish name for “mother’s mother,” but since the name for “father’s mother” is “Far-Mor,” she chose the one that sounded a little more grandmotherly.
Now if this conversation about the name “Mor-Mor” was being had around my dad, he’d most likely go into the story of how his dad, my Papa, would always joke about wanting to be called “Much-Mor.”