Thou Shalt Not

We all know them.  We've seen them embroidered on pillow cases, etched in stone, and laminated on our bible bookmarks.  The 10 commandments were some of the first words in the Old Testament that people could relate to.  I mean, how hard is it to not murder or covet your neighbor's ox?  To avoid sounding blasphemous, let me explain.  We are a rules based society.  We crave guidance and restriction on all of the things in our life.

I find rules quite primitive.  I understand their purpose as they keep us from creating chaos where free-will lies.  Without rules, we are left to our own devices, many of which cause harm to ourselves or others.  For this reason, rules and I have a mutual agreement.  I value them for the important stuff and they value my ability to challenge a rigid life by following every rule ever written.  In case you were wondering, it is IMPOSSIBLE to follow them all.

I often watch in wonder as friends, family and colleagues spin themselves in a mess by their constant efforts to get everything right.  Its just not possible folks.  I am often asked, "How do you get it all done?"  The fact of the matter is...I don't.  And I'm ok with that.  I understand there are ramifications from rule-breaking, but when the ole scale of pros vs. cons comes out, the free spirit in me wins out every time.  I simply don't desire the stress and predictability that come with a procedural life.

I was raised in a very conservative home in a super liberal area.  One thing I learned very quickly was that all people didn't see things the way I did.  A harder lesson in that was to grow to a point where I saw value in people that were not like me.  I'm sure I was the source of lengthy prayer vigils by my parents and loved ones, but I was more intrigued by the human spirit and the lessons I could learn about the Lord from them.

One of my favorite examples of this is from a story when I was around 12 years old.  We lived in a large, brick farmhouse.  My parents often rented the upstairs to tenants to help supplement the household expenses.  I can remember vividly memories of going to the top of the stairs and laying by our tenant's door so I could smell the smoke from his pipe.  I realize now how strange this seems, but in my life, I never knew a man who smoked a pipe and I found it fascinating.  Upon further investigation, I found him to be an extremely intelligent man with a lifetime of experiences all over the world.  I loved to see him sit in his "smoking chair" while he read or wrote.  I imagined that he might be the smartest man on earth.

I have since met many folks that would classify as smarter, but what I learned from him was the art of learning.  He modeled for a 12 year old girl that the need for learning never ended.  It sparked something in me that still resonates today.  I often sense the need for a quiet moment to frame my knowledge, reflect on it, and then express my views on what I learned with no real purpose or restriction.

As I sit on the eve of my 40th birthday, a swirl of expressions seem quite fitting.  I reflect on the past and how it has framed the person I am today.  I marinate in the present, knowing that life will never be quite like it is today.  I dream about the future and what it holds for me and my family.  In classic AO style, I find myself goal setting for the next 40 years.

A Quite Unorthodoxed List of "Thou Shalt Nots" for the next 40 years

(Not to be mistaken for a list of rules to follow)

Thou Shalt Not Wear Doc Martens

I admit it.  In my youthful life, I had a pair of Doc Marten Mary Jane brown leather shoes.  They were the most comfortable shoes that travelled some pretty weary roads.  The year before I became an administrator, the strap broke on my beloved Docs.  It was probably perfect timing as I quickly transitioned to high heels and belted dresses.  As the old saying goes, "You can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl."  I'm not much of a country girl, but I am a girl who longs to wear Doc Martens and jam out at a concert with some awesome music.  Even in a high-profile job, I find myself expressing that Doc Marten side often.  What I have found is that I don't need a pair of shoes anymore.  That music-loving, free spirit still makes an appearance frequently even while wearing her black patten leather heels and matching jewelry.  I love that part of me and hope I can always see glimpses of her regardless of what shoes I'm wearing.

Thou Shalt Not Refuse Turkey and Dressing

My dad ruined Thanksgiving for my entire life.  Its true.  One night, I sat at my kitchen table until very late refusing to eat the turkey and dressing that was for dinner.  My dad was pacing around the house telling me how people in Ethiopia were starving.  You can imagine my response to this - I calculated how much it would cost to mail my cold turkey and dressing to those hungry people.  My mom, on the other hand, was playing the peace maker role and trying to love me enough to make me WANT to eat all of the food on my plate.  I finally gave in and ate several bites before I threw up the entire meal all over the kitchen.  I have never liked Thanksgiving dinner since.  While I will probably never get over my distain for tryptophan or corn bread shredded up with nasty stuff, there is a part of me that recognizes the need for flexibility.  Yes, I admit it.  I'm stubborn.  Over the years, I have found myself choosing battles.  Sometimes I choose the right ones and other times, I choose ones I have no business hunkering down at the table on.  It usually leaves me with a cold plate of food and an upset stomach.  While the fighter in me will never die, I hope my years lived will guide my perseverance to fight with purpose and not with tired emotion.

Thou Shalt Not Stand in Line

I read a text last week that irritated me.  I quickly realized the reason I was bothered was because it came from someone that didn't really know me, but had given his advice regardless.  It is all too easy to listen to the advice of others and change your compass frequently.  As I have outlined in this lengthy post, I am not a "Stand in Line" kinda gal.  I thrive on the relationships in my life that help me grow to be a better person.  I try, with all my might, to be the best wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, family member and employee that I can be.  I fail.  Everyday.  The constant falling from mis-trys has skinned my knees.  Oftentimes, it has left scars.  The thing is, I am perfectly ok with it.  It is most important to me that I act in kindness and love in all that I do without compromising my core.  Its a constant balancing act that I don't take lightly.  There are times when I speak harshly to my husband or over-correct my kids.   There are also times when I express my unconditional love when its not due or display patience when my rope is thin.  I challenge myself in this life, to do the best I can, learn from my mistakes, and never stand behind someone just for the sake of standing.

Thou Shalt Not Sit on the First Pew

Growing up as a pastor's daughter is tough.  You are constantly under the microscope and understand fully the ramifications of every decision you make.  I spent many Sundays on the first pew at my dad's church, Flint Creek Church of God.  Each week, a movie reel of mistakes would flood my mind reminding me of every single sin I had witnessed that week.  I am thankful for this time as it provided me a strong spiritual foundation.  Simply stated, I learned to pray through my inadequacies to the only person that could forgive me of them.  Those prayers continued through my journey at a small Christian college where everyone knew you, but many misunderstood you.  It was in the balcony at Lee College that I realized the most important factor in salvation.  While many focus on the "Thou Shalt Nots" all he asks of us is to focus on the "Thou Shalts."  My craving with a personal, REAL relationship with my savior surrounds my core being.  I am thankful that he loves me and that he gave his life for me.  I'm not sure I could do the same.

I would be remiss if I didn't close with a few thank yous.

*Thank you to my husband for taking every step with me.  Its not easy.  Its not a fairy tale.  Its real life.  You will always be my missing piece.
*Thank you to my parents for falling in love 42 years ago.  You have given me space while molding me at the same time.  I'm sorry I didn't always see it that way.
*Thank you to Lily and Tate for showing me that the best things in life come from God's way.  I couldn't imagine my life with you and now I can't imagine breathing without you.
*Thank you to all of you, family and lifetime friends.  To say that you change my life daily, would be an understatement.  I thrive on knowing you.
*Most importantly, thank you to a savior who forgives and models love.  I hope I make you proud.

And with that, I bid farewell to my 30s.  Looking forward to rocking another 40!

~ao

AO's Simple Guide to Great Things in Life

I looked in every small shop on every side street all over the city. It had to be just right. And then, there it was, sitting on a shelf in a small shop down an alley from a much bigger shop. I knew it from the moment I saw it. It was a "thing" I would treasure for a lifetime. 

I am not a things person. I am a people person. There are few "things" in this life that really matter to me. Exceptions to this are those things that invoke a memory of someone or somewhere I love. These items transform a chaotic day into something tolerable simply by serving as a reminder of a different time. It is these very "things" that sustain me to the next treasured time with those I love. 

Some of my most treasured things include glass eggs from Grandma Dee, a pew in my living room from dad's church, and a painting from an artist I met in Florence, Italy. 

The history of the New Orleans Water Meter cover dates back to the 1920s. They can be found all over the city. Their popularity grew after Hurricane Katrina as a symbol of pride that represented the history and uniqueness of the city. 

What better way to remember this lovely trip than with a pendant featuring this unique piece of NOLA history!  It's kind of funny that I bought a pendant with the word "sewerage" on it to conjur up fond memories. That's the way life works. It has a way of changing your perspective with one simple thing. This four day birthday getaway mirrored my life views in so many ways.  I will cherish the memories for ever. 

So I give you...

"AO's Simple Guide to Great Things in Life" 

(A part of my everyday, but especially essential for trips such as this)

1 - Avoid Prostitutes and Voodoo

I know what you are thinking. This first one is a bit PG Rated. I have a firm rule of thumb on this very thing. If The Rev says it, then I can say it.  Since this very jewel came out of my dad's mouth, I am certain it bears repeating. I have heard advice like this my whole life. My dad learned early on that he best give the bulleted version of the "Thou Shalt Nots" (stay tuned for my 40th bday post - a feature on this very subject) to his free spirited girl rather than a 3 point sermon. When I called him Friday night before I left, he said, "Babydoll, avoid the prostitutes and the voodoo. Oh and make sure you eat at Irene's". Thankfully, I heeded his advice on all three. 

2 - Eat Good Food.

It sounds simple but there's something to be said about the girl that plans the food venues of the trip long before any of the activities have been decided. Simply stated, I love food. Good, local food makes me feel at home and welcome - like I am a regular to the town. And I clearly define a city based on its food options. The less homegrown, local options, the less apt I am to visit. I guess I'm a "food snob" in that way. We enjoyed all of the local flavor of New Orleans - beignets, poboys, jambalaya, red beans and rice. With every bite, my affection for the city grew fonder.  Irene's won the "best meal" category by a landslide. It was the kind of place where the servers felt like family and made you want to stay all night. We almost did!

3 - Music That Moves You

My mom gave me a birthday card once that told the story about a 90 year old woman tapping her foot and shaking her hips as she walked in every room. Inside she wrote, "Always keep dancing. Love, mom".  I can't help it. Music is the generator to my soul. I love all kinds - the bigger the brass, the better. From the piano player at Irene's (in backdrop of picture above) to the fiddler playing for coins on the sidewalk, New Orleans oozes with great music. It's the first thing you hear when you wake up in the morning and the last thing you hear before you lay your head down to rest at night. 

4 - Love the One You're With

I fail at this one the most often. Life leads. I follow. Before long, I don't recognize anyone around me. Marriage is tough and building a genuine, authentic relationship is even tougher. Quite simply, sometimes time is the only healer of things. We found that out early in our marriage, but knowing and doing are two different things. Last summer, we committed to carve out time for each other.  This trip was no exception. We needed time for just the two of us.  Each night, we ended our day by the pool listening to jazz music. We would talk about our past, cherish our present and build on our future. There is not a cookie cutter for making the most of your marriage, but I'm convinced that the greatest ones are built on times like these. 

5 - Look Up

We've all heard it - NOLA is a city of sin. You can see it around every corner. I can assure you there is plenty of sin in the ole 504. One thing you don't hear much about is God's beauty that can also be seen around every corner.  

The delightful artist that sold us a new piece for Lilys room. 

The beautiful shutters that adorn every window. 

The store owner who was thrilled to see his pendant as a perfect fit for my favorite chain.

The street performers - there were hundreds - everyone with extreme talent.  

The wonderful server at Cafe du Munde that delivered an amazing cup of hot chocolate. 

The well crafted balconies that give each building a unique European style. 

"It has been said that a Scotchman has not seen the world until he has seen Edinburgh; and I think that I may say that an American has not seen the United States until he has seen Mardi-Gras in New Orleans." ~ Mark Twain

Although we weren't there for Mardi Gras, NOLA has moved to one of my favorite cities. I fell in love somewhere between a "Streetcar Named Desire" and a bag of beignets. 

~ao

The Prince and the Shoe

Campus Safety.

Its amazing how two words can trigger a flood of painful and promising memories.  After I finished college, I was broke, both figuratively and literally.  I needed a job and a plan and didn't feel capable of being a grown up.  I went back to what was safe for me...softball and school.  I became a graduate assistant for the team and took a job as a secretary in the Lee's Campus Safety office.

I logged parking tickets.
I assigned parking tags.
I made ID's for students and teachers.

Everyday I would look out the window of the 3rd floor of the admin building and stare at the fountain.  I would long for things to get easier and wonder when I would get one of those adult lives that seemed so perfect.   I couldn't imagine what that looked like for me.

I knew the fairy tale.  I knew the story of the Prince who rides in on a white horse and saves the princess from the evil stepmother.  The problem with that story is perspective.  My perspective.  In my world, things just didn't work out that way.  I was convinced I had something to do with it.

I went through the motions.

Staring.
Logging.
Assigning
Making.

Everyday I could feel a piece of me chipping away.  I continued to look out the window but I knew it was a matter of time before the parts of me that believed in something better would no longer be there.

I guess I never believed in the fairy tale.  The idea of "Love at First Sight" was such a dreamy, fantastical thought.  The idea of being rescued seemed quite primitive.  I didn't want to be rescued.  I wanted to be joined.

Quite simply, the part of the fairy tale that I actually believed in was the shoe.  The prince placed the glass slipper on Cinderella's foot and it FIT.  I would find myself wondering how the story changed if the handsome guy with the cool ride presented a shoe that didn't fit the princess.  Is it still happily ever after with sore feet?

Enter Campus Safety.  
Enter the new, young assistant basketball coach.
Enter the policy that all new employees must get a staff ID.

It wasn't love at first sight, it actually took months for that, but instantly I knew he wasn't like anyone I had met before.  He was driven, confident (maybe cocky, at times), with a kindness in his eyes that made me feel safe.

Last night, Johnson Central High School recognized something in my husband that I've known for 15 years and inducted him into their Hall of Fame.  Below is the speech he wrote for the presentation:

First of all I would like to thank Aimee, Noel and the committee for all of their hard work in putting this event together.  I would also like to congratulate the other 9 members of the HOF Class of 2014, many of which I have fond memories of.  I am truly humbled and honored to be joining my dad in the Johnson Central High School Hall of Fame.

 I have a few special guests that I would like to recognize and thank for being here on this special occasion. My parents, Robert and Lillian, my brother Adam and his wife Erin, my uncle Roger and aunt Diane, my good friend and radio sidekick Michael Lawson, and last but certainly not least my wife Autumn, son Tate and daughter Lily. 

The old African proverb states that, “It takes a village to raise a child.” Tonight I stand before you as a child of the village known as Johnson Central High School.  As I look across this room, I see a lot of villagers.  You see, my relationship with this high school goes way beyond the four years that I spent here as a student . My relationship with this high school dates back to the day I was born in 1974. With both parents working here, my formative years were spent running these halls and interacting with two decades worth of students, many of whom are in attendance tonight and are already in this HOF. There probably isn’t a place that I spent more time as a child than in that gym across the hall. No group of people had a bigger influence on a 9 year old boy, than the 1984 15^th Region Championship Basketball Team.  Being the son of their principal who was always tagging along, it would’ve been easy for them to get tired of me and push me aside. Instead, they accepted me as a little brother and made me feel like a member of the team. Guys like Harry Meek, Les Trimble, Mike and Mo Hall, and Roger Fairchild, who I am a proud to join as a member of this HOF, taught me the importance of being a role model to those who look up to you. As long as I live I will never forget that night at Virgie when Harry Meek hit the shot at the buzzer to beat Magoffin County and send Johnson Central to the Sweet 16 in Rupp Arena!  I also will never forget dad picking me up by the arm and spanking my rear end because I was so excited I took off running onto the court to join the celebration. I can honestly say this team and group of guys made me dream of some day wearing the black and gold and being a Johnson Central Golden Eagle.

The four years that I spent as a student here were four of the best years of my life. I made many lifelong friends and had some of the best teachers that I had in my academic career that spans thru two post graduate degrees. Folks like Brenda Pennington, Patty Setser, and Shirley Chaffin, whom I playfully nicknamed “The Triumvirate”, were as tough and as good as they come. Throw in Cathy Gullet and I couldn’t imagine a better English Department anywhere. A funny story about the late Shirley Chaffin that many in the audience can probably relate to ……When I see Red, the first thing that comes to mind is surprisingly not Louisville or even Indiana….its Shirley Chaffin’s red pin and the damage it could do to an English paper. That sweet woman had to keep Bic in business for forty plus years. True story, as a freshman at Morehead we had to do an end of term paper in freshman English. When I got the assignment, my initial thought was I had just done a term paper six months ago for the toughest most thorough teacher I had ever known. Surely, if it was worthy of a 92 with Shirley it would be good enough for Mrs. Lemaster.  So, I pulled out the old paper and the only thing I changed was the date on the cover page. I got a 98, six points higher than with Mrs. Chaffin.

Some of the fonder memories of my childhood were traveling around the state of Kentucky with my dad and his FFA boys. Dad, along with Clarence Meek, Leon Burchett, TJ Cochran, and Roger Mollette built one of the best FFA programs in the state.  It was an honor to be a 4 year member of the FFA program that my dad helped build. Many of the leadership skills that have helped me have a successful career were learned and developed in the FFA Program here at Johnson Central. Being Chapter President for three years and winning the first two individual state championships in the programs history are things that I am proud of to this day.

As most of you would expect, one of the things that I am most proud of is fulfilling my childhood dream of playing basketball at Johnson Central. My senior season of 1991-92 was a special year. After losing several seniors from a top ten team in the state my junior year, not much was expected from the team.  We only had two seniors, myself and Tim Delong –the best 6’0 Center I ever saw, and we became affectionately known as the Cardiac Kids for our flare for late game come from behind wins. One that I will never forget is the first game against our arch rival Paintsville that year.  Paintsville was predicted to be one of the best teams in the 15^th Region and contend for the region title. No one gave us a chance against the Tigers, and we found ourselves down by 8 points midway through the fourth quarter. As we did many times that season, we mounted a furious comeback and I was able to cap the comeback with a three pointer at the buzzer to beat our rivals, 81-80. We made a similar comeback to beat them later in the year across the creek at Paintsville. They were so upset that they had lost two close ones against us, that they agreed to a third regular season game on a night that we both were off, thinking that surely a third time would be the charm. No such luck, we beat them again, something that I couldn’t be more proud of. We finished the season by winning the 57^th District Regular Season Championship over Sheldon Clark and would’ve been the #1 seed going into the District Tournament if it were seeded like it is today, but back then you drew your first round opponent and unfortunately for us we drew the Sheldon Clark team that finished second behind us in the regular season and was one of the best teams in the 15^th Region. We went into the post season on a roll and were considered the dark horse team to win the 15^th Region Title by the Lexington Herald Leader. That dream came to an end in Magoffin Co as Sheldon Clark beat us in the first round of the district tournament.  My senior season allowed me to realize another childhood dream by getting the opportunity to play college basketball at Morehead State University.

I had five great years of college that prepared me and propelled me into a career. I split those five years between Morehead and Milligan College.  Some highlights of my college career were getting to play against Kentucky in Rupp Arena, and winning a conference championship and playing in the NAIA National Tournament at Milligan for the first time in school history in any sport. Playing basketball in college opened the door to my first career as a college basketball coach. I was blessed with the opportunity to coach and recruit for eight years at almost every level of college basketball from JUCO to NAIA to NCAA Division I. The leadership and relationship skills that I learned at Johnson Central prepared me to travel all over the world and recruit talented basketball players from all walks of life.

Over the past few minutes I have talked about many of my accomplishments. None of these things would have been possible without the support of my parents. As I mentioned earlier, they both worked at this high school and I am so thankful that they included me in their careers as opposed to leaving me at daycare. I would like to recognize and thank my mom for all of her sacrifice over the years so that I never missed a practice, a game, or an opportunity to get better. I would like to thank my dad for always knowing the right buttons to push to motivate me to be the best that I could be both academically and athletically.  Excellence was the standard in the O’Bryan household. It’s amazing how life brings you full circle.

Fast forward to today, I find myself married to a wonderful woman who just happens to be a high school principal with a nine year old little boy and an 8 year old little girl. Every day I spend with them makes me feel like I am looking through the rear view mirror into my childhood. Cleveland High School is the village that we live in today.  This past fall was a flashback to 1984 as I watched my children become a part of our State Semi-Final Football Team, Lily as a cheerleader and Tate as a ball boy and spirit leader.  Our All State QB Austin Herink is Tate’s version of Harry Meek. When we lost one game short of the state championship I watched a disappointed nine year old boy walk out on the field to console and congratulate his heroes, and I couldn’t help but think back to 1984 when another 9 year old boy did the same thing in Rupp Arena.  I thank God each day that my children are being raised in a village very similar to the one that raised me.

It's our story.  It hasn't always been easy and the "adult life" isn't all its cracked up to be.  One thing I know.  He still has kindness in his eyes that makes me feel safe. 

On the day of our wedding, he ironically gave me a pendant that said "To My Missing Piece."  How about that?  Fairy tales do come true.  Its just in my fairy tale, its all about the shoe.

~ao

Spaghetti Arms

It was the first time I had ever had a boy over for dinner.  I was in 5th grade and my mom had made spaghetti.  In my 11 year old mind, it felt long overdue.  I thought his mullet and leather jacket were dreamy.

~I pause here to say that my son is in 4th grade.  Any mother who is reading this, should take a big gasp of a breath.  The thought of a girl being "dreamy" to my son is not just terrifying, its gut-wrenching and all-around impossible to think about~

OK.  Back to dinner.  My parents had some adult friends over.  As I set the dining room table and counted the plates, I started to panic.  Each plate represented a person, and none of those people included me or my dreamy boy that was coming to dinner.  I knew the answer before I even asked, "Mom, where are WE sitting?"

He arrived and we sat in the living room while my two crazy brothers ran around jumping from cushion to cushion on the couch.  He pretended to be amused, but he was thinking the same thing I was.  "Man, I wish they would calm down or go outside and play in the snow."  No such luck.

And then it was dinner time.  I tried to prepare him for the crazy he was about to experience as we walked past the "adult table" and into the kitchen.  There they sat at the kitchen table, Monster #1 & Monster #2.  He nervously laughed as he sat down while they clanked their forks on the table, a symbol that someone, somewhere had better be bringing them food soon.

It only went downhill from there.  They talked about their poop, they blew bubbles in their milk, they laid spaghetti noodles across his arm.  None of this comes close to comparing to the holy terror of embarrassment that followed with four simple words.  "Are you her boyfriend?"

I could tell you story after story of my ill-behaved, crazy brothers.  Stories about self-inflicted BB gun wounds, baby oil slip and slides in the hallway, mattress fires, and other down-right scary nonsense that should have caused them to be in juvenile court.  They were doozies straight out of the Herdman family.  If you don't know the Herdmans, google them and you'll read about the craziest, misbehaving family you've ever heard of that somehow sabotages a Christmas pageant and helps the world see Christmas through their eyes.  These boys were nuts.

I am the oldest child and have two younger brothers.  I am 5 1/2 years older than Tony and 7 years older than Rusty.  When I left for college, they were 11 and 12.  I wrote over Thanksgiving about Tony here.  He was the leader of the Monster Twins and quite inventive.  He would build and concoct lots of trouble for the two of them to get into.

Rusty, was a tad bit more strategic.  He was the baby and as cute as a button with a headful of curly red hair.  He played the young and innocent card long after his innocence had left.  Tony would create these crazy adventures, like convincing people to tip them for carrying their pumpkins, and then Rusty would go in the pumpkin field, bat those long eyelashes, and make a ton of money.  When they got caught, it would always be Tony's fault for thinking of it, while Rusty stood over in the corner with a pocketful of cash.

You can imagine, as an 18 year old, the idea of leaving these pre-teen devils and moving away to college, couldn't happen fast enough.  I was over their antics and wanted to get as far away from their path of destruction that I could.  I thought the feeling was mutual.

And then the letters started.  I would walk to my post office box on campus and would find the sweetest letter from Rusty.  He would tell me all about church, his science fair project, and basketball.  It was like I watched them grow up on paper.  I often imagine what it would be like to go to college 800 miles away from your family with Facebook and twitter.  There were so many days when a little post-it note sized card from my brother would make me feel like a million bucks.  I envy those that can be immediately connected now.  I craved that twenty years ago.

Its something that unexplainable, and I thank God regularly for it.  Despite many years of torment and even more years living 800 miles away, Rusty and I managed to have such a special bond.  We are extremely alike and world's apart, all at the same time.  Over the years, I have been thankful for the relationship I have with him and how close he is with Robbie, but there is nothing that brings me more joy than my son's pure adoration for his Uncle Bobo.

Tate is blessed with an amazing father, two grandfathers, and three uncles.  All of them have played a major role in who he is becoming, but as Tate gets older, he reminds me more and more of my baby brother.

Strategic.
Loyal.
Dedicated.
Honest.
And a whole lot of silly.

And when the two of them are together, its really kind of eery.  They act EXACTLY alike.

We walked into the game last night, and some man that none of us knew asked if that was Russ' nephew.  His influence oozes out of Tate and it makes me smile.

I was teary last night as the pre-game started.  I watched Tate beam with pride as he looked down on his uncle on the court.  I can only hope that Tate becomes the kind of man whose family feels as lucky and loved as we do.  Even if Lily has to endure some torment of her own.

~ao

capture.

I'm staring at the wall.  Today I watched as oil slowly poured through a funnel.  I feel like that.  I have a lot of words, but they aren't exiting as quickly as I'd like.  I guess that's why I've been drawn to several Facebook/Twitter statuses lately focused on one word for 2014.

It's an interesting concept.  Choose one word and live it.  Sounds easy enough.

Living the word seems quite simple.  It's choosing the word that's the tough part.  Maybe its a commitment issue.  I mean, once you choose the word, you're in.  It's kind of like accepting the proposal for marriage.  If I say this is the one, then it means its the one.

What if I change my mind?  What if my word doesn't get me the desired results?  What if my word is just too dang hard?  

I don't have the answers to those questions.  All that I know is I'd like to start a new year with crisp focus.  I think having a word might help.

So I debate.  Should I choose a word that focuses on my spirit?  Maybe my word could be about my relationships.  A better word might focus on work or home.

Listen.
Mercy.
Commit.

There are so many to choose from, but getting overwhelmed with my selection kind of defeats the purpose.  I think my word might have something to do with all of those.  A word that allows me to love and appreciate all of the working parts that make me, me.

capture

to emphasize, represent, or preserve in a more or less permanent form

That's it!  If there is anything I need more than anything, its more focus on the moments or the things that make my heart pitter-patter.  Even more, though, I need not only focus on them, but I must remember.

There are days when I hear a lot of bad things.  There are days when people treat me badly.  There are days when my heart barely pits, let alone pitter-patters.

It is those days that I need to be reminded.  I need to go back to those moments or things that brought me so much joy.

So that's my word.  I plan to capture.

Capture words.
Capture songs.
Capture pictures.

I want to remember that feeling for the rest of my life.

Happy 2014!
~ao

P.S. Today I captured the picture at the top of my post.  I took down all of my Christmas decorations except for my winter-themed hearth.  My dear friend, Michelle, gave me a pillow on it that she made with the word, grace.  It almost became my word for the year, but I did a last minute switch for the word that's been on my mind lately.  Nonetheless, I love the decorations on the hearth and think this pillow fits it perfectly!

All is calm. All is bright.

Christmas Eve.

Its my favorite night.  Its that moment where it feels like the world slows down to a halt.

Waiting. 
Hoping.






I remember one night a few years ago.  It was the storybook Night Before Christmas.  The kind of night that Christmas cards are made about.  The stockings were hung, the children were nestled, and it snowed.  I stepped outside for a moment.

One moment.
To pray.
To honor.
To remember.

Christmas is something different to everyone.

To some, its about family.
To others, its about tradition.
To the young ones, it can be about the gifts.

I am blessed with so many treasured memories of Christmas.  Baking with mom.  Christmas PJs.  Luminaries at Austin Road.  The reading of the Christmas story.

But nights like tonight, there is only one thing on my mind. 

The Star.

Calm.
Bright.

On nights like tonight, I long to take a moment from the shopping, baking, wrapping and celebrating to follow the calm, bright light leading to our savior.   It doesn't seem that complicated.  After all, I imagine there was chaos during the time of his birth.

Prejudice. 
Childbirth. 
Overtaxed People.

I can't imagine the pressures of their time were less than those of ours.  And yet, they paused and followed the light.

I missed the luminaries at Austin Road.  I didn't get to bake with my mom.  And its still Christmas Eve.  Its a little harder to celebrate without the "comforts" of the season, but its still Christmas.

There is one thing that must be present for Christmas to occur.  On this night, our savior was born.

One moment.
To pray.
To honor.
To remember.

Take a moment to remember the reason for the season. 

Wait.
Hope.

Look for the star.  Jesus, Lord at thy birth.

~ao

 



Merry Christmas with Love ~ Our Christmas Letter

"The greatest of these is love."

I remember when this was read at our wedding.  As a 27 year-old young woman, love meant something totally different than it does now.  2013 has brought wonderful memories and even some difficult ones.  With each of them, his love has never been more evident in our lives.  I am thankful to experience love everyday.  As I reflect on our year, I am amazed at the simple things that have shown me love and made this year complete. 

I love when Robbie kisses my forehead.

He has done this since we were dating.  It makes me feel loved and safe. After 12 years of marriage and two kids, we have to steal moments. One of my favorite "stolen moments" was this summer on a convertible drive up the river.  With no words, wind in our hair, and a great summer playlist, I was reminded how valuable these simple moments are.  Since we don't get them often, I cherished the moment to save for later.  I couldn't imagine sharing this life with anyone else.  He is the perfect partner for me.

I love holding Tate's hand.

In the car.  Watching a movie.  Walking out of school.  This boy is a hand holder and I love every single minute of it.  He is our sensitive one that always acts in kindness and love.  Speaking of love, he has found a few.  He has extended his love of art and auditioned for his school show choir.  Imagine our surprise (since we don't have a singer in the family) when he actually made it!  Spend 5 minutes with Tate and you quickly know his 1st love.  Sundays at our house have turned in to SportsCenter.  I treasure watching my son and his daddy sitting on our deck talking about "The Game".

I love the sound of Lily's laugh.

There is no question about it.  This child loves life.  Whether she's helping me cook in the kitchen or twirling around at basketball practice, Lily is light and airy about everything she does. She is a self-proclaimed "Teacher's Pet" and has found her way back in her old Kindergarten classroom reading.  My favorite Lily moment this year was when we introduced her to Ginger Bean, our new boxer pup.  The sound of her squeals is something I will always remember. Simply stated, Lily oozes the love of the people she's around.

I love having dinner with my family.

For the first time in several years, I sat at a table and dined with my parents and brothers.  We are a close-knit family, but due to logistics, our time together, as a complete unit, is limited.  What better reason to dine together than Rev and Red's 40th wedding anniversary?  We took our 1^st Willemsen family vacation in over 20 years to Punta Cana and enjoyed many meals, and even more laughs together.  The time together was long overdue and will be something I cherish my whole life.  Even more fitting, mom and dad renewed their vows, officiated by Tate and Lily.  There wasn't a dry eye on the beach that day.  I am blessed to have such an amazing model of unconditional love.

I love hearing teenagers sing their alma mater.

They are the reason I do this job and every 3^rd quarter when they sing the alma mater, I am reminded of that reason.  Cleveland High School continues to be a perfect job for me.  The principal job will never be easy, but I am blessed to work at a place that makes it a joy.  This year brought a state title in wrestling, almost 300 diplomas presented, our first Hall of Fame ceremony, a new freshmen class of almost 400 students and a semi-final finish for our football team.

2013 is a year I will always remember as a year of love.  I hope each of you will take time out this holiday season with those you love.  But most importantly, our wish for you is that you find HIS love in your life.  It makes all the difference.

Peace. Joy.  LOVE.

~Autumn, resident writer for Robbie, Tate, and Lily (and Max & Ginger too!!)

I also LOVE writing!  To keep up with our family escapades, check out www.lilytate.blogspot.com