Hair vs. Popsicles

I appreciate good hair.
With a day off from The Bolivar Commercial and all bridesmaid duties behind me I didn't know what to do with myself.
Coach was home, Nana was home and it was so wonderful to have everyone together, which we haven't gotten to do much in the recent weeks.
We spent most of the day outside with popsicles and books watching Berit swirl around in her baby pool, climb up the slide and down, up and down, and make horse sounds, which is her new favorite thing to do.

Now, because I was a bridesmaid in a wedding the day before my hair was still in wedding mode so I'm sure you all can imagine I was feeling myself because I knew I looked cute.
Until I got sprayed in the face with the water hose.
Excuse me!

I was so irritated and wanted to stand up and shout at the perpetrator, which was Brett Warren by the way, until I saw Nana in her sprinkle tutu swimsuit and crocs with a popsicle grin cackling away at what her daddy had done.

Definitely siding with her silly daddy

These two outnumbered me and the cute hair was no more.
I knew I had two options, one was to go inside where I stayed clean and adorable, away from the obnoxious duo, the other involved sweat, sunscreen, and most likely mud because aside from horse sounds that's our other new favorite thing.

I wiped my face, put a hat on, and splashed in the baby pool with her.
I'm not a fan of being dirty, and if you didn't know this, I'm a bit over the top girly. However, I'm not afraid to put those feelings aside when it comes to spending time with my family.

We stomped in the mud, we slid on the pool slide, we read stories under the sun, and we ate a bazillion popsicles.

At the end of the day, I was sweaty, grimy, had mud up the side of my leg, and smelled like beach sunscreen but had so much fun spending hours outside with my sweet family.
When Coach and I put her to sleep after a good hose down and then a nice bath, it's easy to watch her snore and know that cute hair is not worth missing those popsicle moments.

This column originally appeared in The Bolivar Commercial

Seasons change quickly in life but we’re not alone

This week I've worn shorts, pants, sweats, sweaters, and tank tops. My grandmother used to tell me, "If you don't like the Delta weather, just wait a minute because it'll change!"
The constant changing of our weather got me thinking about the different seasons we experience in our lives and how we handle those seasons.

My family recently went through a particularly difficult season. The weather was rough, cold, dark and frankly, I was unsure if we were going to get out of this one.
There are so many different options when it comes to dealing with a difficult season. We can curl up underneath our covers and hide, which was what I wanted to do, or we can prepare for the weather with the right tools.
For me, those tools were friends and Jesus. I was so afraid of how to handle this season. I didn't want to leave my house because would other people know I was in a difficult season? Should I even mention it?

However, when I walked into my church and was greeted by a familiar face and asked that typical question, "Hey, how are you?" I paused.
Normally, I blurt back, "Great!" or "I'm fine and you?" But this time I didn’t. This season caused me to stop before giving back my typical cookie cutter answer while holding my Bible and preparing to take my place in the pew.
"I'm actually going through a really difficult season right now," I said as I held back tears.
This person's response was absolutely what I needed. She didn't say much. She put her hand on my arm, told me she loved me, and that she'd be praying for me. And I knew she meant every word. She even followed up with a much-needed coffee date.

After that moment, I knew that I could take on this season because I wasn't alone. There was someone else there with the right clothes for the season I was in. Someone would lend me a blanket, someone would lend me light, and someone would lend me a warm place if I ever need one.
In that difficult season, I battled the only way I knew how by getting on my knees in prayer and holding onto those I knew were praying with me.

By doing so, I was able to get through the dark days and now, as I drive from my house to the paper, I see color popping up everywhere as flowers bloom.
The Easter Cross on Court Street was extra bright this year and I'm not sure if it was the exceptional flower placement, or my coming out of a dark season and into a brighter one.

I read once that some seasons may seem so hard and gray; that it feels as if nothing will bloom ever again. It's when our seasons become the darkest and coldest that we have to put on our best coats, warm by the fire with our best friends, and for me, hold my best Bible, and prepare for the changing of the seasons.
Sometimes seasons last longer than we'd like, and some, like this dark one for me, is short and ends in brightly colored blooms on an Easter Cross.

The season may be better but the family photos are still challenging!

No matter what season we're in, I think it's important to remember what my grandmother said and just wait a minute because it will change.
For me, it's a bit more than that.
For me, it's just wait a minute because He will make a change.

This column originally ran in the Bolivar Commercial