We're Gonna Make This Place Our Home

 

This is approximately my 753rd attempt at sitting down to actually start this blog . . . where in the world to begin?! “Once upon a time. . . ” seems a bit of a set-up as there will be no talking frogs or poisonous apples woven mystically into the tale that follows (although I do hold out hope for the “they lived happily ever after” part). And, “So what had happened was. . . ” just doesn’t quite seem to fit either. So, I suppose I’ll just jump right in – the whole stream of consciousness thing and all. After all, that’s how I speak, with my mouth often getting a few steps ahead of my brain, so it seems fitting that I write that way as well (if only there were a way to incorporate animated hand gestures). I would be remiss (and certainly reminded of it until my dying day) if I did not mention the fact that my dear husband has been asking, nay begging, me to blog since the days of diapers and formula in our home. Back then the blog was going to be called “Pigtails and Puppy Dog Tails”,and I was going to diligently chronicle every precious thing that our two little darlings did – every highchair sitting messy faced spaghetti eating shot, every monogrammed outfit, every outing. . . every. single. milestone. HA! I actually just laughed out loud. Oh the best laid plans! It was, actually, my dear friend, Dawn Ritz, who finally planted the seed that has AT LONG LAST launched this blog. With our move looming, Dawn, one of those forever friends who is just always so kind and encouraging, mentioned the fact that a blog would be a wonderful way for our Florida people to keep up with us “across the miles” (Hallmark, if you are out there reading, yes, I am actually available). And, after the craziness of cardboard boxes and packing paper subsided, and I began to hear the soft strains of the homesick blues playing in the background, BAM! a blog was born!

 

I love to write. I always have. I was never much of an artist. I remember the jealously I felt in elementary school when my best friend, Carla, colored pictures. She could do the best water ever. Me, not so much. Crayons, pencils, markers, and paint just weren’t my thing. But words, oh, words I could work with. I love a good adjective – and boy oh boy can I write a mean run-on sentence. I think dashes, ellipses (those are the three dots that you will see over-used scattered throughout my ramblings), and exclamation points should be mandatory in all written communications – they are like the smiley faces of the written word, and you all know how I love a good smiley face. There is somewhere circling out there a children’s book that I will author one day, and it will be filled with adjectives and run-on sentences and lots and lots and lots of exclamation points!!! I have lots to say, and if you stick around to actually read it – thank you.

 

So, welcome to “Crazy Blessed”. My heart is full to overflowing to think that there are folks out there who love us enough to take time out of their day to read about this life of ours. This sweet little sign:

was actually the inspiration for the name of our blog. During one of our many “house search” runs to ATL, Michael and I stopped in downtown Newnan, Georgia on our way back to Pensacola. I was thoroughly enjoying browsing through a precious little gift store when this little sign started calling my name. It was not perfect, it was not what many would call “beautiful”, it was rough around the edges . . . it mirrored our life perfectly - it was meant to be mine. I whipped out the Visa like Zoro brandishing his sword and went to find Michael to show him my purchase. When I pulled the sign from the bag, and its message registered with him, we both had tears in our eyes. We vowed then that the little sign would be the very first thing hung in our new home - it will ALWAYS hang in a place of honor in our home, a quiet little reminder in those times that we forget. “Crazy Blessed” that was EXACTLY what we were. We were trying with all of our might to execute a major uprooting of our family; we were leaving everything we knew and completely stepping out of our comfort zone. We were loading a moving truck the day after Christmas. We were, in short, “Crazy”. However, through it all, time after time, we had seen God’s hand in the craziness of it all – calming every wave, gently reminding us, “I’ve got this.” Our Pensacola house sold to a wonderful gentleman who allowed us the time we needed to smoothly transition to Georgia. We fell in love with a church, and were able to find our new home just blocks away. The children’s new school was warm and welcoming. The children themselves were troopers every. step. of. the. way. They completely bought into our mantra of “home is wherever we are together”. They were cautiously optimistic and nervously excited. They were beautiful and healthy and ours. We were together. And, no matter how crazy, we were are “Blessed”. Blessed every day. Blessed beyond measure – full and overflowing. Crazy Blessed.

 

There you have it. Thank you Michael and Dawn for the prodding that I needed. I can’t promise that I’ll update daily, weekly, or even semi-regularly for that matter, but I’m sure going to try. Stop in and check on us once in a while as we make this place our home . . .

 

 

 

 With my love,

amy
 

(and happy belated birthday to my sweet Daddy who will read this with pride because he’d read anything I wrote and swear it was worthy of publishing – I love you, Daddy!)