Wednesday, June 12, 2013


I'm baaaaack! Have you missed me? I've been here. Just too busy to post.

Let's see, let me recap May 2013. I turned 40, witnessed tornadoes forming in the sky, got my kids finished up in their respective school years, celebrated Mother's Day, and my mom's 70th birthday. But not in that order.

June has been full as well: more tornado cleanup, my children going to theatre camp, football camp, and me wishing I had a "camp" to attend. We've done VBX at church, I've been running and reading and racing. I've been facebooking and thinking about more new Sassy Sawdust projects. I've been collecting 4-5 eggs a day from the coop here at the farm and I've pull a ton of weeds from my backyard and yet only covered about 1/4 of the space.

I've been living. And being thankful for my life and my house and my family. Thankful that the roof over my head is intact. Thankful that I have 4 walls and air conditioning. Thankful that my third grader is alive today.

I've spent a lot of time in prayer over the last few weeks because people I know have no homes now. They've lost pets. They are living in hotels. And here I sit, with survivor's guilt, wishing I could do more than buy a t-shirt or a necklace to raise money for tornado victims. Wishing that there were a magic wand that could sweep through Moore, Oklahoma and clean it all up at once.

But I've also been blessed. With the gift of time to volunteer. With the ability to give abundantly. And with special moments along the way. Like the surreal moment I reached into the rubble I was shoving along with a shovel. I saw something shiny and when I picked it up, it was a heart shaped silver charm. Engraved on the front was this: TOGETHER WE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I felt like the world around me paused. The wind stopped blowing and all I could do was stare. Amen!, I thought. Yes! Together, this team from my church is here to make a difference... one homeowner at a time.

Yes. BLESSED. That I could contribute a small part to a big job. And make a difference, no matter how small and inconsequential it seemed.

p.s. I wanted so badly to take a picture of this charm in my work glove. It seemed such a poignant photo to take. But in the midst of someone else's tragedy, it felt unholy to photograph something that wasn't mine to share. So, instead, I keep that picture here in my heart. I hope you can see it, too.