There's nothing like a gathering of close friends to refresh and strengthen us. Who are the people who restore you most? Take a minute to thank God for them.

Becoming a mama is an adventure in of itself with the endless transition and figuring out how to make dinner with a fussy baby and how get to and from Target in time for feedings, lest car feedings occur and which is the best product for baby eczema and it is hard to imagine going through it totally alone. Having wiser women who have been there is a plus but there is something about having the comradery of the new mom transition that makes it that much sweeter and less crazy.

When we found out we were pregnant with Penny, our circle hardly included any one with children but within a few months, newer friends joined the adventure and we were due within two months of each other. 

We bonded over conversations of pregnancy and how many weeks along we were and all the developmental stages that came with them and different things we had read about labor. We talked about our OBGYNs and how the birthing process works and which hospital would be the one. 

I gave birth to Penny in June and Luuk arrived seven weeks later and Gavin entered the world at the end of August, merely four weeks after. 

And just like that, we started navigating our new roles as Mamas, leaving our jobs and figuring out what life now looked like. We exchanged stories of sleepless nights and products that were amazing or just funny, like the pee pee teepees, and what was not working and everything in between. I admired their baby's ability to take three hour naps and they took note of Penny's early verbal skills. 

We had play dates, when our schedules and naptimes aligned. And the babies grew and we learned and laughed and wondered if we would ever get sleep again. And in the blink of an eye, they out grew nursing and bottles and diapers, giving us opinions and word in return. 

We learned a lot about ourselves and what it means to care for another, who cannot care for themselves and that the only thing that is predictable is change.  Once we got something down, they started crawling or getting another tooth or learned to walk and what worked before was no longer helpful. Tips and tricks of things we read in parenting books or online from the experts have been passed around and tried out for what they are worth. And all along the way, we were there for sounding boards and prayers and life.

And as our babies have grown, so has our circle of mama friends. New ones have joined and others have since left, leaving memories and taking parts of our hearts. Play dates are pure chaos and coffee these days, as they play alongside siblings, who graced us with their presence in a similar fashion a second time, as well. 

And for them I am ever thankful, along with all the other sweet mamas who have become part of the network of play dates and park friends and library goers. Mamahood would not be as fun without you and yours. 

Thank you. 

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This is part of a 365 day blogging series through Savor by Shauna Niequist. If you would like to blog along, whether daily or weekly, I would love to have you for the journey; be sure to link back to the post. And if you are not a blogger, you can join along, too. Just leave your response and answers in the comments.

There is much wisdom to be found in discussion with good-hearted friends. Who are the people in your life that guide you along the way?

So far, this has been one of the tougher to answer questions. Perhaps it is trying to narrow it down to a few people or a person and saying this is the guide. Or maybe just really digging deep in to thinking about who guides me, who I allow to direct my path and influence me, something I do not think about often enough. For the saying about who you hang out with is who you are, is surely applicable here. Though, I am truly surrounded by some amazing people, who I am thankful to be influenced by, whether consciously or not.

Our last season of life group or small group or home church or whatever you would like to refer to our weekly meeting as, was an eclectic group that only God could have orchestrated, as each one has been.

But this one has been different. It has been smaller with deeper conversations and discussions about life and God and theology and sermons knit together with a lot of time spent collectively in prayer.

This past season has been one of learning and listening and excitement as God has shown up and allowed each person to pour out their hearts about what God has been doing and what God has been speaking to them about. Each coming in to the conversation with different backgrounds and stage in life and a rich transparency in their character.

We went through studies and questions but each discussion seemed to form a life of its own and winded its way down a path we could not known to go if we tried. Organically birthed through the Spirit.

This season, they have guided me and prayed for me and listened as we knelt in prayer with hands grasped and eyes closed and petitioned to God. They have come along on our journey each week as we scratched the service of learning about healing and what that looks like and as we sought direction in the possibility of starting abusiness. They have been an amazing community and I am ever grateful for each Tuesday night that they have shown up at our door.

And of course there are so many others, too, that I simply cannot name. Little anchors built in to friendships and family ties that steer to straighter paths. Thank you for listening and praying and guiding me towards Jesus. 

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This is part of a 365 day blogging series through Savor by Shauna Niequist. If you would like to blog along, whether daily or weekly, I would love to have you for the journey; be sure to link back to the post. And if you are not a blogger, you can join along, too. Just leave your response and answers in the comments.

Some words are only spoken face-to-face. That's one reason time with friends from far away is so precious. 

I still call the girls I hung out with in junior high friends. We shared teachers and sodas and french fries and walks home and crushes and all the in between.

There is Maria, lover of Lucas (the flavored salt candy) and all spicy / salty Mexican candy that I really do not consider to be candy. She fights for what she wants and lives hard and keeps going no matter what. She battled leukemia in the beginning of high school. When the diagnosis came, she was close to death's door but by God's grace she fought hard and her body healed; though the entire time we hardly understood the severity. At fifteen death was foreign and far off and we assumed she would be back and she was, rocking an awesome wig and her ever contagious smile.

Then there is Sara. She once was a rebel without a cause but truly likes to stay in line; once shedding tears over getting a B on a math test. She was the first to leave and gave birth to the sweetest boy before graduation. She has known the darkness and loss and drugs but she knows what it is like to be on the opposite side, to get clean and back on her feet and fight for her baby. She is a rock star of a mom and determined to finish what she has started and does it grace.

Kristina is our token Asian friend and we share the same family heritage of adobo and rice. Her beautiful, long, straight black hair and denim skirts were her staples, until Senia cut it off. I had passed them to Senia, not wanting to be the one responsible for cutting off her rules and religion. She and Senia turned me on to thrift stores on our trip to Goodwill to purchase her first pair of pants, brown and straight leg that fit like they were made for her. She is one of the best writers I know and truly has the sweetest heart and best intentions. She once took care of a boyfriend who smashed his face while skateboarding. Enough said. 

Then there's Senia. She and I didn't hit it off too well in the beginning and I thought she hated me. Naturally, I had to ask Sara if she did and once we got it all sorted out we went on to sharing more cake and ice cream and drinks and late nights than I can remember. She is killer with a paint brush and baking and knows how to handle a pair of scissors and hair. She was my stylist throughout high school and I have always admired her ability to cut and dye her own hair.

And then after high school, we met Julie, the sister of my sister's then boyfriend. She is funny and a talented artist and so awesome that we almost forget she did not roam C hall with us or pile in to Senia's navy blue, Chevy Malibu to go to lunch. Julie is always calm and collected and one of the best listeners I know. She knows every Weezer song and is amazing with a tattoo gun, even on herself. She is 100% in whatever she does and loyal; she always shows up and is where she says she will be, even if it means changing her own tire in the dark on the side of the road to get there.

We have lived across state lines and in various cities but the commonality and thread is always there, no matter how long it has been since our last gathering. There is nothing like getting together with laughter and conversations, especially over cake.

Here's to being face-to-face and friendship. 

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This is part of a 365 day blogging series through Savor by Shauna Niequist. If you would like to blog along, whether daily or weekly, I would love to have you for the journey; be sure to link back to the post. And if you are not a blogger, you can join along, too. Just leave your response and answers in the comments.

Has there ever been a time when you almost missed something extraordinary, caught up in your own anxiety or pain? How did you push yourself back into the present, out of your own head?

For Christmas, on a year with hardly a budget to spend, I splurged and bought Ricardo a new game he had been wanting. He had been busy between working full time and finishing up his BS and a superfluous amount of group projects and helping with the youth group and easing in to parenthood, I thought it would give him something to enjoy between semesters. It had been on an end cap at Target and in the giving mood, it made its way in to the cart and home with me.

I cannot recall exactly how it transpired anymore but my mom had also purchased the game, on a different platform and told me ahead of time. Knowing this, I wrapped the game up and tucked it under the tree with the intentions of letting him chose which would be the one he liked best and returning the other.

As the package was unwrapped and the title excitedly exposed, I let him know of the choice and he made it, deciding on the other platform, agreeing we would return the one I had purchased. My mom brought the game over later, as we exchanged a few gifts and hugs and cinnamon rolls, enjoying Penny's first Christmas.

And finally, Ricardo's family from out of state came by with presents and laughter and more exchanging of cinnamon rolls. Conversations went on and in talking with his brother both of the games were opened. I sat there in disbelief and frustration, as we agreed we would return one.

You said you wanted the other one. I reminded Ricardo. We were going to return that one.

His brother just looked at me, game in hand, unable to be returned.

I tried not to let it bother me. His brother had no idea what was going on, nor did my in laws but clearly the tension could be cut with a knife as the packaging plastic was unraveled from around the case.

My chest tightened and frustration set in as I regretted my whimsical decision to purchase the game. I could have let my mom exchange the one she had for the one he wanted if he decided on the other platform. He could have waited one more day to play it. Thoughts ran over in my head.

I hardly remember the rest of the visit, as I settled in to frustration over the situation, not wanting to give in to it but not knowing how to let go of the annoyance and money lost.

After my in laws left, we sat on the floor in Penny's room as she crawled around in the burgundy dress I had sewn for her that matched the bow headband I had crocheted for her to wear on her first Christmas. This was not how I had hoped or thought it would be celebrated.

Confrontation between us is not common and this one surfaced so quickly it caught me off guard, like a few years before when he accidentally threw our clothes away during our Weird California inspired road trip, mistaking them for garbage at our first campsite.

There on the floor, he apologized and reminded me of the my choice to be frustrated or to forgive and enjoy the rest of the day, in his usual calm and collected manor. Reminding me I had a choice to shut down and be angry or carpe diem and savor what was left. And so I tried my best to let it dissolve as we drove over to the Christmas celebration with his extended family, still a little mad but not letting it determine the remainder of the day.

I almost missed out on the joy of Penny's first Christmas because of a silly game and its monetary value. I almost missed out on the celebration of Jesus' birth and rare quality time with family because of one decision and miscommunication.

Perspective and people and listening have a way of getting us out of our own heads and of course God continuing to work in us. It also helps to have a husband who can see the bigger picture (most of the time) who can remind of better things. 

Here's to getting out of our own heads and past anxiety and pain.

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This is part of a 365 day blogging series through Savor by Shauna Niequist. If you would like to blog along, whether daily or weekly, I would love to have you for the journey; be sure to link back to the post. And if you are not a blogger, you can join along, too. Just leave your response and answers in the comments.

The darker the season, the smaller the act required to bring healing. What are the small acts of connection and tenderness that you've experienced in this season?

Winter seemed to be longer this year. The end of the last and beginning of this year was covered in sickness and working on healing.

For a few intermittent weeks I was down and out; hardly eating or able to move and laying in bed while Ricardo took care of the children and house work; his new managers full of understanding and compassion, as he took a week off after changing positions at work. My mom graciously came over and took time off work, after caring for my grandma for a month, to wrangle the children and do my laundry and scrub the floors and make my kitchen sparkle, along with my step dad. My mother in law came and hung out with Penny and Jude and Ryland, and my aunt took another day.

 It was a reminder of the blessing of living in proximity to family and the continual process of letting go and allowing others help, while I rested and healed. 

They say it takes a village to raise a child and healing is like that, too.

It takes a village to heal. It takes people coming over to help do what we cannot, like fixing superfluous amounts of snacks for the children and make meals and fully watch to ensure no one floods the sink with bubbles and to encourage us to really get some rest and dig our feet in to the healing process because otherwise, we may throw in the towel and move on, only prolonging the healing all together. 

As I laid in bed one evening, as Ricardo finished reading bedtime stories and grabbed the mail, he placed a colorful envelope next to me. Familiar hand writing printed across the front and a beautiful message scrolled inside. My friend, Julie, is the craftiest person I know. She can make something beautiful out of practically nothing and is just as sweet as she is crafty and has a way of sending it packaged perfectly in an envelope, with just the right amount of encouragement. With the pretty card and pink and yellow banner of the word SHINE tucked inside next me, it was a much needed reminder to keep going and not get caught up in the down and out and all the help that was being freely given but to focus on the healing and to be grateful for what is to come.  

And thankful for the ability to let go and humble myself to accept help, even when I would have loved to do it myself. 

Here's to help and healing.

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This is part of a 365 day blogging series through Savor by Shauna Niequist. If you would like to blog along, whether daily or weekly, I would love to have you for the journey; be sure to link back to the post. And if you are not a blogger, you can join along, too. Just leave your response and answers in the comments.

God is endlessly creative in how he shares his presence with each of us. And the specific way he chooses to connect with you matters. What is the tie that binds you to God?

Being open to hearing God binds me to him in many ways. He uses anything and everything to relay messages and reminders.

There is the ocean. I have a love for water and waves and warm sand in my toes. The sheer amazement at what lies beneath and that has been thought up and created at each glance of its vastness.

And there is my children. Having that similar context of God as the father and how he gently parents us, has changed the analogy and deepened the meaning of the name. The way he cares for me is far greater than that of me for my children. That never ceases to amaze and keep me centered in his unfailing love.

Over the past few years, it has been writing. This flow of words and inspiration and trust in him has forever changed my relationship with God, nearly asmuch as having children.

Writing has forced me to trust him more than I have and has made my analytical self a little less so, as I pick and choose the way I want it to sound, though interpretation of the words are taken at the experiences and background of the reader, something beyond my control.

Lack of tone or set pace of writing makes it a little harder to convey words. They may seem cold or hard to those who do not understand or sweet as honey to another. They are put in black and white and taken as they are. And it is funny how one simple thing like a word changes the meaning of so much.

Perhaps that is why I wrote in pencil for so many years. Ink stays but lead can be erased and edited and changed without messing up the page with evidence.

Writing in black and white keeps me focused and relying on God to do his thing. Writing keeps me in prayer and my thoughts grounded. It keeps me depending on God to inspire and be transparent.

Writing has been an adventure in obedience and stepping out of my usual comfort zone. It has been a constant reminder that I am not God and cannot understand how he works or the reasons behind how he works and that when I listen, he moves.

It has been texts and emails and conversations of how God used a message at just the right time. How it was something a friend needed to hear. And those are usually the hardest ones to share and that I would rather not. But He says to push the button and keep going and then is kind enough to see little fruits of the words and obedience of stepping forward.

It has been a series of coming alive and a fresh breath, along with feet scraping the ground with white knuckles as I learn to let go and trust him. It has been learning how to take time away from everything else to listen and relish in words and thoughts and scripture; just a few of my favorite things.  

Here's to ties and God. 

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This is part of a 365 day blogging series through Savor by Shauna Niequist. If you would like to blog along, whether daily or weekly, I would love to have you for the journey; be sure to link back to the post. And if you are not a blogger, you can join along, too. Just leave your response and answers in the comments.

Although we can't make everything okay, we can show up and show love in the middle of whatever's going on. How have the people in your life been there for you when you needed them? Is there anyone who's going through a difficult time that you need to reach out to?

My Aunt Karen is one of the sweetest, most genuine women. The kind who would truly give you the shirt off her back. She wears her heart on her sleeve and finds humor in just about anything. She is stern when she needs to be but knows how to have fun. Our shared Pacific Islander decent makes her that much more interesting, as some Pigeon slips in her speech from her years spent on the island, giving her a bit of an accent and conversations a sense of heritage and richness.

When my world crumbled and my parents parted ways as the divorce papers were signed, her doors were always open.

My younger sister, Carrie, and I found refuge in her home after school, hanging out with our cousins watching countless episodes of Maury. We spent more nights than I can calculate sleeping over while our address was to be established.

She had food on the stove or in the cupboard or in the fridge and it was almost a sin not to accept something, as she repeatedly told us to eat something. Fresh rice could be found on the counter to go along with practically every food group.

Then there was Kristina's. Her parents were about to embark on the same journey as mine, though neither of us knew as I spent a few nights sleeping awkwardly on her floor and eating her mom's chicken adobo.

There was also Josh's mom, Debbie. She was short in height but immense in hospitality and personality. She was not afraid to be herself and took us as the mess we were. After my aunt moved to South Carolina, she opened her doors to us. Always understanding and sharing stories of when she was younger. Stories with the use of the word harlot and giving us a semi description of the new to us word, which we added to our vocabulary. Josh stirred Kool Aid in the kitchen, as music videos played on the television in the living room. We hung out after school when it rained and during school breaks and at the park nearby.

And of course there was Senia's home. Always open to whomever wandered in, with room on the couch and food to sooth the soul. We shared lays potato chips topped with lemon juice and tapatio. We ate her dad's homemade refried beans and chile rellenos and rice.

The awareness of needing people was never in my mind at the time but people were always there, meeting needs I never knew existed and filling voids that needed filling, never trying to fix the problem or find a solution but simply being there. They were a landing spot and a place to go and a little anchor in the uncharted waters we were wading through. Sometimes when we need the help the most, we have no idea what we need and have no words to articulate the growing demands of our circumstances as we dance and twirl through them.

And then God places people, people who meet the needs before we have time to see them. People who have eyes to see it and hearts to carry out the love needed to gently guide us  towards shore, after our world bottoms out and there is nothing to fall back on or no normal for reference or rhythm to make. They can see it and they help as best as they know how. 

Here's to people and meeting needs. 

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This is part of a 365 day blogging series through Savor by Shauna Niequist. If you would like to blog along, whether daily or weekly, I would love to have you for the journey; be sure to link back to the post. And if you are not a blogger, you can join along, too. Just leave your response and answers in the comments.