Sundays: personal

“Is it true you plan to teach?”
“Yes we’re going to teach Americans in Paris how to cook.”
“Madame Child, I must tell you, you have no real talent for cooking… but the Americans will never know the difference.”

Ouch.

I’m sitting here watching Julie and Julia, editing pictures from 100 years ago, and dreaming of things to say on my blog, since I’ve been writing and deleting posts for days. When I heard this I looked up from my computer screen, fascinated.

I rewound and played it 3 times.

Julia Child didn’t let words stop her.

I’ve been going through a bible study for the last few weeks called The Inheritance with Beth Moore. In this past Wednesday’s study Beth Moore said, we need to know ourselves. We need to be so firm in who God made us to be that when people come against us we don’t cave to what they say we are. I… haven’t quite perfected that skill. If I’m being honest, the last month has been a quick downward spiral where I crash-landed back into who I was; sad, insecure, and discouraged, when I know God has made me to be full of laughter, not quite but almost confident, and encouraged. All of this spiraling and crashing came from words, words that like the ones spoken to Julia Child, cut deeper than deep and were probably meant with the intention hurt but, unlike Julia, I haven’t been able to rise above them.

Instead I’ve had quite a few emotional breakdowns similar to those of Julie Powell lying on the kitchen floor. Except mine take place in my car outside the gym, sitting on a pew at church, or on the most comfortable couch in the universe with my face buried in a red tear-stained pillow. I’m hoping with each deep breath I take as I type this my next breath will be like the breaths of the girl I knew last summer who was excited for what the future held instead of the girl now who is daily reminded of the past and is daily bound by fears of repeating the past. This is why I've taken a blogging break for awhile, I'm sure this post hasn't been the most fun to read.

So, here’s a post dedicated to not freaking out because I have friends who love me. To laughing out loud at inappropriate times because of a funny text. To friends who listen to you and give you advice while you openly weep in their living room. To little boys who see me across the church and come crawl in my lap to give me a hug and a kiss and who say “No! Her is a nice friend!” To Miley Cyrus, N*Sync, Snoop Dogg, and Ke$ha who provide so much entertainment when sitting in LA traffic. To the phrase “I would NEVER lie to you”. To the coming Zombie Apocalypse. To moving on, even though it still hurts.

And mostly I dedicate this post to the people I spend Sundays with because their company melts my heart every week.





There's something I absolutely love about this picture. It's so simple, but I'm in love with it.






Sprinkles... *judge* ;]