Pangea

I haven’t had the time or clear headspace to write for awhile… and now here I am up at 1:45AM. Dark room. Macbook on 30%. I feel the magic about to happen (Update – I overslept 9am service at church).

All the way through college (if you choose to attend), we’re all on the same supercontinent. There may be some natural disasters that shake our individual countries to the core, but life goes on about the same as before. You and your classmates wake up every day, go to school, study, pass your classes and ultimately the only thing left to do is graduate. If you stay on course, that’s your outcome. That’s life on Pangea. And, while we live out life surrounded by all this structure and certainty, the dream of how life will go is developing within it. Everyone is chasing something. Their picket fence and 2.53 person household. Their happiness…

Then world starts to shift and break apart.

Instantly, you have a handful of paths to take when there only used to be one flat land to walk across. One step into the direction you thought was straight ahead could leave the husband and children in the complete opposite direction. The next direction could be fame or overnight success. The third might leave you knee deep in water where there once was dry land. So, which path is right?

Call it a quarter-life crisis if you’d like or blame it on the deliriousness from my lack of sleep, but as I sit in this dark room I feel my world shifting. In fact, it is so quiet, I can almost hear the tectonic plates of my lithosphere making their tiny adjustments. All of my constants aren’t feeling very constant and my “for sures” are more like maybes. And, the personal life events of this past week and a half created a mixture of hurt, worry and confusion; the kind that buries itself so deep inside you and leaves you unsure if you should just vomit or cry…

But would you even feel like this if you weren’t focused on a perfect path? 

True. Currently, there is nothing wrong going on in my life. I have been grasping tightly onto all the little pieces in hopes of maintaining an environment that I think will make me happy down the road.

So, why not less of the path and more of the destination?

It would be a million times easier to move if I wasn’t trying to hold a continent together… And it can be so hard to accept when familiar people and situations float away to form something completely new and far away.

But, you shouldn’t have to force aspects of your life into future existence. What (and who) will be, will be. Worry less. Grow your gifts. Pursue your purpose. 

Thats my new focus. It’s time to confidently proceed forward (praying to God for solid, dry land with every step). The path won’t be pretty, perfect, or straight, but it will be right. Who knows what potential awaits in that distant place… what kind of peace and happiness that comes with reaching my destination.


The Word I received later this morning stuck out to me in particular, so I’m sticking it here at the end. My story has already been written, and every gift I need to fulfill my purpose I already possess. It’s amazing how you hear what you need to exactly when you need to hear it.

…And maybe my 2AM pep talks are meant to be heard by more than just me.

Storms

When I was little I was scared of storms. Little rain showers, thunderstorms, tornados, you name it – I hated them all. I never felt safe. It didn’t matter where I was, I constantly worried about what could happen to us when severe storms would hit our area. My Mom, on the other hand, was never scared of bad weather. While I was busy hiding away, you could always catch her looking out a window, somewhat mesmerized by everything happening outside.

One day, a smaller thunderstorm was starting to clear up and my Mom was standing at the front door. My (ironically) favorite smell of spring rain was in the air as the winds began to turn into a nice breeze and the sun moved out from behind the clouds. The only thing separating us from the rain was the screen door to our porch, but hugging her made me feel safe. Without taking her eyes off of what was happening outside she quietly said to me, “You know… there is no need to be afraid of storms. God is in control of the sunshine and the blue skies, but also the clouds and the rain. They may be scary and loud, but He is always there. Look Loni… Remember how beautiful everything is when the sun comes back out?”

I’ve always wondered if that was God’s way of foreshadowing. Or simply the gift of prophetic wisdom? Maybe He simply spoke through her… I don’t know. But what I do know is that it was the single most important lesson I needed to learn from the exact person that the biggest storm I would face was centered around. And, seeing as I would cry outside the bathroom if she took too long, I don’t think anyone thought I’d be able to recover from it…

Losing my Mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, yes. I think about her every day. I’ve written down everything I can remeber about her and our interactions multiple times by now. I’m still so easily overtaken by nostalgia, especially when people mistake me for her (to the point that I freaked out a family friend at the movie theater back home this winter), or someone tells me I’ve somehow picked up another one of her quirks that I honestly didn’t even know about. And, I pray for my salvation in hopes that one day our souls meet again so much, that I don’t even think there are enough angels in heaven to help receive my messages… But, despite the fact that I can’t say I’ll ever “move on”, I’ve matured in my outlook on the situation. 

This is the first time I’ve publicly shared this story with anyone. Probably because it’s taken me a long time to really embrace her lesson on storms. Sometimes I do still get so caught up being frustrated that I can’t call her to ask what to do, or tell her about some unimportant thing I saw, or one day completely disagree about what style wedding dress I should wear, that I can forget to take a second look at the lessons I learned from her years ago (before I fully understood them) for the answers I need now.

I understand now that we live in a broken, cursed world where bad things happen to some of the best people and there is nothing anyone can do about it. That storms are inevitable, but I shouldn’t be afraid of their potential. That I simply can’t live life worried about things that God has control over. And that sometimes I need to remind myself of the beauty around me.

You know how much I love the sunshine, but I’m happy to say that I am no longer afraid of storms, Mommy. Continue to watch over me. I love and miss you more than anyone could understand. – Love, Loni Monster

In Loving Memory of Y.D.S.S. 

The Juice

I had a completely different post (or 4) ready to be published, but it will sit in my drafts until a little later… I thought it might be good to lighten the mood a little.

Have you ever had a friend that has everything going for them and isn’t entertaining/talking to/dating 20 people at once? Or, have you known someone who is super popular in real life, but it doesn’t go to their head and you never would have known via their social media presence? It’s seems super rare and incredibly refreshing, right? If you answered yes, then you might share in the sentiment that the concept of juice is something you aren’t really a fan of.

For my older (and of course wiser) readers, “the juice” I’m referring to here isn’t O.J. Simpson… but O.J. in his prime definitely had it. When I say juice I mean being popular with the ladies/fellas. To further clarify, if you wanted to use it in a sentence you could say, “WOW, you dated him? He’s fine! O, you got the juice,” or “You didn’t know? G is a Juice Gawd!”

(Yes, O & G are people, and gawd is pronounced god. Just text me if you have any more questions.)

Let’s start this post off by clarifying a couple of things. First, is that I have no juice. If I did I’m positive more people would read my blog out of some unsatisfiable curiosity and I wouldn’t be extremely single. Need further proof? Then let’s head over to social media – where juice seems to manifest itself – and pull out our calculators. I average 144 likes on Instagram and have 1558 followers (there’s an app for that), which means on average 90.8% of my followers ignore my posts. The last time I received a text from someone who isn’t one of my best friends was 6pm yesterday. And, on top of that, my Dad gets more responses to his posts on Facebook than I ever have in life. Maybe since I haven’t enjoyed the wondrous splendors of being incredibly “popular”, I can’t possibly understand it. Secondly, I have no problem with people finding others attractive or being a ladies’ man/gentlemen’s woman (why is there no female equivalent to ladies’ man? Sounds like a double standard to me…), I just don’t like the importance I feel that we place on being well liked.

So, why don’t you like juice? I’m glad you asked. Let me tell you.

It’s an Assumption – Unless they are the type of person who tells everyone everything about their personal life, saying someone has the juice is largely an assumption. The way someone looks and the things you have heard about them probably gave you that idea. I touched on this some in Computer Love, but the perfect profiles on social media aren’t really us. It’s not always a sunny day in perfect makeup and a cute dress. This isn’t true all of the time. So, what if it’s not an assumption, what if it is true? I would say that the confirmation that someone has the juice doesn’t stop our assumptions at all. Now that we know they are “popular”, we (myself included) tend to have this idea in our heads of what someone who gets this type of attention is like. That’s unfair. Just because someone is a large cup of guava-berry, doesn’t mean that they are the type of person you might categorize them as. They might not be promiscuous or even care about the attention they are given at all… Let’s be honest, they might not even be that interesting either.

It’s a Deterrent – At first glance this seems a bit backwards, but if I had a dollar for every guy who told me he was hesitant to reach out to a girl because she was “popular”, I would be writing this from a yacht… Ok, I would be writing this from a decently sized boat. They must be dating/talking to/situation-shipping with someone. It’s an unfortunate mindset really. I’m sure there have been plenty of missed opportunities because of this fear of failure/rejection. I can’t tell you when it’s the right time to “shoot your shot”, but in the words of Hitch (yes, from the movie… this is my blog, I make the rules): “Any man has a chance to sweep any woman off her feet. He just needs the right broom.” And if that didn’t help then, I can more factually state that 9 times out of 10, those heart eyes under her pictures are from someone she doesn’t even know that well.

It’s Not Important – I think this is a hardest part for people to believe when I say it, but I actually don’t care about the juice at all.  Sure, it’s great feeling to have people compliment you and I’m sure it is an even better feel to nab the guy that all the girls want, but at the end of the day does it really matter? If you had whatever it was that made (insert your most attractive/favorite person here) so attractive, what would that change about your life? If I had bigger boobs, I might have more followers on Instagram, but that’s really it. Who knows, maybe with a little juice you could finally get the attention of the guy you really like, but do you want someone who is caught up in the hype around you or who likes you for you?

With juice I feel there is really only one option: if it must exist then we all need to create our own. Does it really matter who/how many people like you or know of you? Do you even like you? So, every morning after you are done mixing up your bowl of happiness, grab a big glass and get to squeezing. This way you’ll be entering into the world with a nice full glass, and it won’t matter if someone is trying to pour you a little more or if you feel as though you’ve gone unnoticed for the day, because you’re already full. I think I have a cool glass of cran-apple going on today. What about you?

– Loni

 

The Talk

In an attempt to continue to grow my relationship with God, and as a result of situations I have previously found myself in with people who aided in my confusion between lust and love, I made the choice to be abstinent. This decision was a good choice for me personally, but since I am dating and getting to know new people, it has started to become a decision I have to more openly share with others.

More often than not, I find myself needing to have “The Talk” right away on first dates (it’s crazy how fast sex comes up when you meet someone nowadays, which is a frustration  of mine that happened to escape Computer Love). I don’t want to say that every guy has responded negatively to these talks, because they haven’t. And, I definitely don’t want to say that every guy who has disagreed was completely false in his opinion, because that is not the case either. But, what I can say is that “The Talk” is known to produce responses that have left me perplexed to say the least (especially if I don’t know the person well), so I thought I would share a couple of those with you.


What good is a girlfriend if I can’t have sex with her?

This view on relationships is interesting to me. I thought at this point in our lives, most of us are dating with the purpose of discovering more about ourselves and what we need from a partner, and for some even finding that person to spend your life with along the way. However, it looks like some of us are still in it for the guarantee of a hookup and matching Jordans. But in all seriousness, after probing further (because anyone who knows me understands just how unacceptable this answer was for me… I am a work in progress, pray for me) he rephrased to say, “What good is a girlfriend if I cannot be intimate with her?” In response to this I asked him to explain why sex was the only intimate act he could think of, and although we had a good conversation… we did not agree at the end.

That part of the Bible is no longer relevant.

Hands down the most annoying response I’ve received (three times!), especially when it comes from Christian men. I often find myself wondering how exactly they go about determining what parts of the Bible are no longer relevant, and I’ve never received a solid answer. We want the healing, the saving, the blessings, and the guarantee of heaven to somehow still make sense and exist, but not the uncomfortable and often challenging parts that we are taught to do to display our faith. I bet the wives submitting to husbands part is still relevant… they probably have Colossians 3:18 underlined and highlighted for easy reference.

 What did your Ex do to make you not want to have sex? I can change your mind.  

Nope. Stop. Do not pass “GO”. Do not collect $200. I have nothing further to say to you. In fact, you are probably an expert at creating the exact situations I want to avoid.

If I can’t get it from you, I’m going to get it somewhere else. This is basically an excuse to cheat…

So you mean to tell me, in your late twenties/early thirties you have so little control over your body that if you cannot have sex with your significant other, you go out into the streets and find anyone to have sex with? What happens when she’s traveling on business, or on vacation, or on her period? So, you automatically cheat at least once a month. You are something else…

I respect what you are doing, but it is not for me.

I honestly wanted to throw this man a parade despite the fact that he left me deep within the friend zone. He get’s it. That’s really the point of this post. There is no “winning” on either side. If you decide to freely engage in sex you’re often labeled a hoe. If you decide to wait for a relationship or marriage you’re often looked at as a prude. Just instance #3,862,399 where women are held to an impossible double standard. However, these opinions from others should never cause you to live your life for other people.

You need to be solid in your belief of what is best for your life, yes, but that’s not enough. We also need to stop forcing our opinions onto the lives of others, and start responding to things similarly to the gentleman who is responsible for the last quote. Let’s do a little more listening, and gain a little more understanding even if we don’t agree… Maybe those who were responsible for some of the other responses (besides not ending up on my blog) would have seen my abstinence as less of an attack on them/men or a ploy for attention or to be difficult, and more of a refocusing of my life and the strengthening of a relationship I let go for a couple of years. Because that is exactly what it is. 

-Loni

 

It’s Not Much

I wonder where everyone is going. Who they’re traveling to go see. What their lives are like. What they’re going through. Maybe we’re not that different. Maybe we are as different as we think. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in your own world and forget everyone around us is a person too. They have good days and bad days. They have strengths and weaknesses. They have feelings.

Sometimes I forget I am a normal person too. When I’m in an airport I have on my consultant mask… which is basically (and unfortunately) a self absorbed robot. Always somewhat in a hurry.  Too “important” to wait in lines with those who don’t have status. Gaining more hotel points and airline miles by the minute than are ever necessary in life, yet slightly annoyed by even the slightest hiccup in my travel day… like a delayed flight, or the man who doesn’t know he can keep his shoes on in the Pre-Check line, or the woman who stands in the middle of the terminal hallway obviously very lost.

I think that’s why we spend so much time judging, hating, and fearing people we don’t know. We forget they are people with feelings just like ours. They can be happy, or sad, or anxious, or annoyed like we do… But most importantly we forget that we aren’t perfect and we’re not more important than anyone else. All we really know is our life. Who knows what kind of person we would be with the opportunities they had, their skin color, or their experiences. Do we really have a reason to be anything other than kind?

A lady reminded me of this the last time I was on a flight leaving out of this gate (which was also very delayed like today). She tapped me on the arm while I was waiting in line at a coffee shop and told me my order was paid for. I quickly regurgitated my go-to order to the barista and followed after her to say thank you. Her response was simple, “You’re welcome, it’s not much.” And, as soon as her coffee was ready, she not only walked away, but back out of my life forever. So, why did she do it? Maybe I looked upset, or maybe I just was another woman alone in an airport later in the evening. I’m not sure. But, does it really matter? Did she need a reason to show love for someone she didn’t even know?

She was right though, it wasn’t much, but it went a long way. And now someone who typically wouldn’t care, thinks more about the thousands of people she sees in the busy terminals she frequents… giving a smile, or a compliment, or a helping hand. It’s not much, but no matter where everyone is going, who they’re traveling to go see, what their lives are like, what they’re going through, how different or similar we may be, I do know that kindness feels the same for everybody and we can always use a little bit of it.  

– Loni

Selective Silence

March 20 2003

Well we went to war with Iraq yesterday night. And I fell like daddy is going to war with me. When i went to  my class today everything was fine and when we get home he bands me from the dining room! Then I was talking to mommy and I asked if daddy was in the kitchen and he thought I was going to say something about him and hes like if your going to lie about something don’t say anything. So I going on selective silence agaist him if he’s around I wont talk. I’ll even swear it!

I Elon Nadeen Smith will chose to be silent around  Felton Lewis Smith. This is due to unfair treatment. If I shall break it, renew it. 

Signed, Silent


For the first time in my life my Dad will be living in a different state than me. As he was unpacking boxes, he found one of my journals, and read the excerpt above to me over the phone. It is funny reading my thoughts, my Dad also had to try to force back a giggle or two to save me some embarrassment, but if I remember anything about my 11-year-old self (and no, I don’t mean the obviously gifted writer hidden behind some questionable grammar), it was that those feelings weren’t very funny at all, I thought my dad was my enemy. 

I was an intelligent kid, but no matter how smart I thought was, Dad was always at least three steps ahead of me. As an adult I’ve come to better accept (emphasis on better… not completely accept) being strategically outmaneuvered, but as a kid everything was a competition that I needed to win. Who would win the board games on game nights, who would solve the riddle, who would figure out the end of the movie and ruin it for the rest of our family first (sorry guys)… I lost roughly 98% of the time. And, as if the constant humiliation of defeat wasn’t enough, there was another big reason I found myself “at war” with my Dad. 

He was the only person who challenged me. I thought of myself as (and was often treated like) the golden child that would be the most successful person in the family. But, on top of being intelligent, I was a dramatic, mean, emotional, introverted, and insecure little girl. Because of this, my Dad and I didn’t have the traditional cozy, cute father-daughter relationship like the one I felt that he had with my sister or like those that you see on TV. Being coddled was the opposite of what I needed. Looking back on it now, it was as if everyone could see my potential and thought I would “get there” regardless, but my Dad was the only one to  realize that I had no chance of “getting there” at my current state and it was his task to get me where I needed to be… So he did.

One of the most distinct memories I have was from middle school while trying to do some advanced math homework that I just did not understand. After multiple failed attempts, I asked my Dad for help (one of many perks that comes with having a Chemist for a father). He had me re-read the problem that I had read 100 times looking for some hidden secret message, and then he explained how he would solve it. But, unfortunately for me, he did not give me the answer. I sat at the dining room table and I cried for what felt like hours before I finally got frustrated and focused enough to solve the problem. At that point he came back and said, “No one is ever going to give you the answer. I might not even have the answers to give to you. But, I can teach you how to think.” 

The only thing 11-year-old me could see at the time I wrote in my journal that day was that my Dad hated everything about me, but in reality we all know he never hated me at all. He loved me enough to teach me lesson after lesson, because he understood that later down the road I would need to be a different kind of person than the one I may have been becoming. 

He taught me how to be confident enough to get where I had the potential to be in life. He taught me how to solve problems I had never faced before. He taught me to handle criticism and how to never let anyone control my emotions. But, most importantly, he taught me how to be kind and loving in order to maintain one of the most important things in life, my relationships with others. I didn’t have any of those things before, but no period of selective silence would stop my Dad from instilling those things in me. 

As I read my other journal entries, I realize how much I’ve grown since then in more ways than my height and age. I hope he knows his hard work doesn’t go unnoticed. Also, I hope he knows he taught me one of the biggest lessons of them all: 

If I am ever blessed with a family, all of my children will be different. They will have various gifts and personalities, but I will never compare them to each other nor make one feel more special than the other. But, I will need to have a unique relationship with them all to address their varying needs. Some lessons will be tough to teach (especially when we face tough times in life), and if my children are anything like me, they might fight back and/or not really understand them at all at the moment, but I won’t give up… and one day I’ll look back and remember why. 

– Loni

Random Thought #1



This week Loveli Loni had its highest views since my launch week. When I see others reposting my link and sending me positive texts and comments, I reflect back to a week or two before I launched when only a couple of people knew it was happening. My first post was already written but I nervously changed it a millions times a day. A few days after Christmas I received a package that contained a black shirt with my logo printed on the front from my best friend (who I had been going back and forth with for years about how I desperately wanted to write). When I called to say thanks he reminded me that I was a good writer, yes, but more importantly I always put my voice, my most honest self, into everything I wrote, and because of that the readers would come.

I’m glad he was right.

-Loni

Sister-Cousin

She was perfect and I absolutely hated the way I looked…. We were both skinny, spoiled brats, but when it came time to “grow up” her legs got longer and her chest got bigger and I didn’t change at all. High school junior… still without a period, 98lbs, flat chested, with an overbite my braces did not cure. And, it was all I thought about. Constantly, I had to ensure my legs and arms were covered (I reluctantly gave in to my Dad buying a uniform skirt my senior year of high school, I preferred to hide behind the other school uniform options of khaki or black pants), I always crossed my legs when standing to try to hide their size, and most importantly I always needed a new way to make my chest appear larger. I was so unhappy. 

Luckily, she was my best friend. 

It was a weird dichotomy of feelings to have. She was asked to school dances, I wasn’t. She needed to go shopping for bras and tampons, I didn’t. Her self-esteem was always through the roof, mine wasn’t. She still had her mom… I didn’t… I wanted to hate her for being given the life she had, but I just loved her so much. 

Now, since we’ve graduated high school and college, she constantly reminds me how proud she is of me and how much she has always looked up to me. It was something at the time I never would have understood. She had everything I wanted and all the while she saw things in me that she wanted as well. I always thank her and tell her that she doesn’t need to look up to me and that she’s doing just fine, but I’ve always been too ashamed to tell her that she was someone I wanted to be just like all my life. After all, I was the older cousin, I was supposed to be helping her through life. But, it just didn’t go that way in my mind.

Talking to you yesterday briefly on snapchat brought me here. 

In your early teenage years you became beautiful, yes, but you were confident even before that. Confident during the braces and the baggy jeans that you always had to take in at the waist. I looked up to you for that.

You were an extrovert with ease. You did solos at dance recitals, talked to anyone without being awkward seconds after meeting them, and never had to force a smile. I looked up to you for that.

Boys were crazy for you! But… you paid them no attention if they didn’t know your worth. If you only knew how much I looked up to you for that. 

You weren’t afraid of anything. You lived life to the fullest everyday, you accepted things that happened to us with grace, and you could see the beauty in all situations… I needed to look up to you for that. 

Truth is, Monie… you had your life together hours and days and weeks and months and years before I could even stand to look in the mirror and like anything that I saw. You’re not just my sister-cousin and PIC, but my confidence and a shoulder to cry on when I didn’t have any “good things” inside to have for my own… The role model I always needed. 

So, thank you

Love, 

Loni.

Beyond Life Friends

My friend and I went to North Carolina to visit one of our close friends this weekend. It was a gloomy drive, but we had an awesome weekend once we arrived. Driving back to Atlanta yesterday it was raining quite hard and my copilot fell asleep, so it was the perfect atmosphere to be alone with my thoughts. I couldn’t believe we spent roughly 12 hours in a car, the latter five and a half practically swimming down 85 South, just to be around a friend. We didn’t do anything particularly special, the weather wasn’t even that great, but it was totally worth it… And, I couldn’t help smiling a very familiar smile to myself. 

My Mom and Dad had really good friends that my siblings and I grew up to know quite well ourselves. They would come around for holidays and birthday parties and have us over to their houses to just relax or have dinner. Although I appreciated them, I didn’t really give much thought to their friendship until my Mom passed. My Dad’s friends became like second, third, and fourth sets of parents without being asked, but even more shocking to me was the continued presence of my Mom’s friends in our lives even when she was no longer physically present. There is never a birthday that passes without a card or gift, my graduations were just as important as those of their own children, and to this day there isn’t a month that goes by that I don’t receive a call, text, or Facebook message full of well wishes on everything going on in my life. They don’t have to do any of this, they just do… And they do so ten years later, still bearing that same smile. 

When I was younger I didn’t really understand why they did the things they did. Majority of my friendships at this point (teenage years) were surface level and heavily determined by the homeroom we were assigned, who was of similar popularity, and/or the brand of clothes I wore. After some time you naturally come to the realization that your relationships are becoming more mature the older you get. But, I will argue that despite this, your true friendships really start to blossom when you’re an adult. When you’re done with school and other kinds of forced social interactions, it’s easier to see who is still around for you and who you are willing to go out of your way to spend time with.

Whether I understood the friendships of my parent’s or not, I knew that I always wanted that for my life. And, I know it sounds silly, but each time I get that smile, accompanied by that deep, happy, warm feeling, I’m reminded that I now have it. The people who have helped me through insecurities. The people who have given me second, third, and fourth sets of parents. The people that will drive across Atlanta in rush hour traffic or even across state lines to spend time with me. The people I do life with. But most importantly, the people who give me my parent’s smile. My beyond life friends.

– Loni

Content

Lately I’ve been feeling very single. It’s similar to the feeling that you get when you go to a restaurant by yourself, except you experience it everywhere. Instead of hanging out with bae or going on dates, I have all this free time to, you know, live life… but when I leave my house all I see are couples and engagement rings. And, to make things worse, I can’t even get in any retail therapy because all the stores already have their Valentine’s Day gifts and candy out on display. Woe is me. However, I’m trying to remember that it doesn’t matter how badly I may want my life to mimic how I feel when I listen to Sure Thing, it’s just not for me right now. 

It’s hard to say something you want isn’t right for you at the moment. Being content with my current season of life is one of my biggest struggles. I’m a planner. Whether it’s relationships, work or school, I like to know how things will go. I enjoy having a checklist, and I especially enjoy checking things off of it. When I look at my life plan, it simply didn’t include long seasons of singleness in my mid-twenties. This alone can make it easy for anxiety to creep it. Trying to determine how your future will go when you saw your present going differently is a breeding ground for worry.

Well, I’m happy to inform you, that unlike a blueprint for a building, if your measurements are a little off your life will not come crashing down. Instead, be thankful for the ability to gain insight and to make adjustments! This could be time for you to enjoy or even avoid something that is being completely overlooked because you’re too busy thinking two or three seasons ahead about things you can’t even control. It could be that my next relationship will be my last, and I have some major growing to do before that can successfully happen. Maybe this season of unemployment is to direct you to your true purpose in life. Or it could be that you need to learn better budgeting skills before you are blessed with that new car (and the car payments that come with it).

I personally need to spend less time planning and more time praying. Putting things in God’s hands is so much better than worrying. With all the other things going on in the world, why carry that extra weight? He has something way better in mind than I could ever plan or even imagine, and that’s definitely worth the wait to me.

That may not change the fact that I don’t want to be single or that I have no idea how long this season will be, but I’m learning to be content and to do all of the “living” I need to do while I’m in it… But, just in case, I’ll avoid listening to Miguel and running into any department store holiday displays.

– Loni