Every morning, after I stumble out of bed and get my girls fed, I scroll through my facebook and instagram feeds while the girls entertain themselves. I peruse pinterest and take a peek at twitter before I check e-mail and answer convos from the etsy shop. Then I catch up on blogs with feedly. After all that’s finished, I check one more thing: my Klout score.
Right now, it’s hovering in the low 50s, which is the highest it’s been in a while. The hiatus I took from social media when Kendall was born and after we moved had a major effect on my score. Basically, it took a nosedive.
In this crazy world that we live in, where aspiring to pinterest perfection is a major source of stress and facebragging fills up our news feeds, it’s tempting to measure our worth by comparing ourselves to the online lives of those around us.
Personally, Klout stresses me out more than anything else in the social media world, because as someone who is actively trying to build a platform, my influence matters. Klout is one way to measure that, and to be honest, some days it feels like I’ll never measure up.
But here’s the deal.
Klout isn’t the only measure of influence that matters. I can think of at least two more measures of my influence that carry much more weight.
Their names are Kendall and Micah.
Kendall’s delight when I step away from the computer and roll around on the floor with her means more to me than an arbitrary number generated by Klout.
The joy Micah takes in dressing me up in sparkly boas and Mardis Gras beads is more important than capturing the moment to share on instagram.
The things I do for my girls day in and day out—feeding them, dressing them, playing with them, reading to them, listening to them, and loving on them—make me the most influential person in their little lives. That’s not a job that I take lightly.
In the grand scheme of things, Klout may not consider me all that influential, but I know better than that. My Klout score, twitter followers, instagram or facebook likes, and blog comments are just numbers. Nothing more.
Those numbers do not define me. They are not my identity. My identity comes from who God says that I am, not from my popularity on social media. My online persona is just a piece of the whole, and not the most important one at that.
So today, I encourage you to join me in remembering that we are more than our Klout scores. We are children of God, heirs alongside Christ Jesus, and bearers of glory.
Until next time, grace and peace.
Note: The “facebragging” article that I linked to is a spoof. Not real. Just so you know.
I know that the big day isn’t until Sunday, but I didn’t want to wait until then. I’ll never be able to thank you for everything you’ve done for me over the past 30 years, and I hope you know that I wouldn’t trade you for any other mother in the entire world. You’re the only one I want.
“Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes, by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers and sisters, aunts and cousins, comrades and friends—but only one mother in the whole world.”
—Kate Douglas Wiggin
Love you, Mama.
I’m a big fan of journaling. In fact, I’ve been writing in a diary or journal since I was in the fifth grade, and I’ve kept each and every one of them. They’re precious to me—an integral part of my spiritual life and essential to my sanity. Writing things down helps me to remember not only where I’ve been, but also where I’m going.
A few weeks ago, we went to Starkville for Super Bulldog Weekend, and as I strolled through the bookstore on campus, I was smitten by this journal by Katie Daisy. I’ve long been a fan of Katie’s work, and her etsy shop is one of my favorites. When we get settled into a new home of our own, I fully intend to fill up my walls with some of her gorgeous and uplifting art.
But all of that’s beside the point.
There’s something about the blank pages in a brand new journal that makes me want to sit down and write for hours. I love the freshness and the newness—the blank slate—the clean start. It’s one of the simplest pleasures in life, and it’s one I enjoy immensely.
As for this particular journal, well, I chose it because I need the daily reminder to be filled with joy. If I’m not careful, I can skate my way through an entire day…or week…or month…without stopping to count my blessings or truly experience the joy of the little moments that make up my life.
I know that as far as resolutions go, the beginning of May is a little late to be making one, but oh well. Who says that resolutions are just for new years, anyway? I’m resolved that 2013 (the rest of it, anyway) will be a year of great joy.
“Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit.”
This verse is my anthem. I’m looking for wonder and praying for joy in the everyday moments that make up my life.
What about you?
Until next time, grace and peace.
A few months ago (nearly four, to be exact), my family and I packed up, left our home in Iuka, drove five hours, and moved in with Dennis’ parents on the farm. It was a move that we had been planning for quite some time, but that somehow came all of a sudden. For years we had been talking about moving “back home,” but we didn’t think it would become a reality so soon. And then a job opportunity opened up, and before we knew it, we were packing boxes and putting a sign up in our yard.
Life changes fast, y’all.
I haven’t said much, or anything really, about it because it took me a while to process. In case you don’t know, I don’t handle change very gracefully. It takes time for new things to sink in with me and for me to adjust to the newness of it all.
That said, I’m so glad that we moved. Of course, I miss our friends. Very much, in fact. I miss being a short three hours away from my parents. I miss having lunch with my two best friends and their little girls. I miss spending afternoons at the park watching Micah play with her best friends. I miss pouring into “my girls” at church. I miss our home. I miss our church family. I miss all sorts of things about Iuka. It’s never easy to leave behind people and places that you love. Our life in Iuka changed me. The people there are very dear to me, even still. They won’t be forgotten.
But I’m very excited to be here. Micah and Kendall have been loved and doted on excessively since we moved here – both from Dennis’ parents and from my aunts and uncles. I’ve enjoyed spending time with family that I only got to see once or twice a year when we were in Iuka. It’s fun to know that my girls are making memories with some of my very favorite people in the world.
It’s also fun to know that my girls will grow up in the same place that I did. Interesting tidbit about Dennis and me: we grew up right down the road from each other and only met when we were in college. Our lives criscrossed more than once when we were kids. We have mutual friends and acquaintances. We participated in the same countywide quiz bowl tournaments. He went to prom with one of my softball teammates. Our world, it seems, is very small indeed. We moved to Franklin just before I started eighth grade, and I thought that was the end of my life in Brandon. I never would have guessed that I would move back 17 years later. And yet, here I am :)
This week, I’m (hopefully) going to lunch with one of my friends from middle school. We will (maybe) go look at a house. We have a (tentative) playdate with a little girl from church. Micah is signed up for preschool in the fall, and Dennis is really happy at his new job. In short, we’re moving on.
At least, we’re trying :)
Until next time, grace and peace.
It’s hard to know what to say now that I’ve finally decided to take the plunge and resurrect this blog. I really didn’t mean to drop off the face of the planet in February. It just sort of happened. And then, the longer I said nothing, the harder it became to pick up where I left off. And now, it’s November and crickets have been chirping here for eight months!
Sorry bout that, y’all.
I’ll try not to let it happen again, but I’m offering no guarantees.
Instead, I’ll try to hit the highlights of the past eight months of my life. Then we’ll get on to business as usual.
I had a baby. Isn’t she sweet? Last time I wrote, I was still reeling from the unexpected news that I was pregnant. Now I have a 4-month-old little girl that I can’t imagine life without. Kendall arrived a couple of weeks early (unlike her sister, who debuted a week late), and I did it au naturale. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about it.
I renamed and rebranded my stationery business. Goodbye Senojal Designs. Hello Felicity Paper. The change was a long time coming, and I couldn’t be happier with the result. I wanted a name that (a) people could actually pronounce and (b) reflected my business goals. I’ll tell you more about that later.
Micah turned three. This picture is from her “fancy schmancy” third birthday party, which was heavily inspired by Fancy Nancy books. It’s hard to believe that my baby is now a big girl who constantly tells me what she’s going to do when she grows up. Slow down, sister! Please. Your mama needs you to.
I survived. That may not seem like a big deal to some of you, but it’s gargantuan to me. There are some women who flourish and glow their way through the newborn stages. I’m not one of them. It’s hard for me. It was especially hard to figure out how to parent my toddler with a baby that demanded my attention. We had a lot of moments like the one pictured above, and unlike the picture, I wasn’t always smiling. But we’re getting there. As Kendall gets older, life gets easier, and I’m finally able to come up for air. In case you were wondering, it’s nice to breathe again.
I promise to be back sooner rather than later this time. It’s my goal to write once a week. If I can master that, we’ll shoot for twice a week.
Until next time, grace and peace.
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