Saved and kept by Jesus. Wife to Joe forever. Mom of plants only, for now. Floridian to the core. Friend and family to the greatest people alive.
There’s a deep- sometimes slightly irrational-appreciation within me for almond croissants (cue praise hands emoji), clearance sections, succulents, the foam of a perfectly made latte, the ocean, pretty much anything miniature, breakfast food—ok.. all food, date days, girls’ nights, organized spaces, freshly washed bedding, Saturday mornings, and WAY more importantly… my perfect-for-me husband, friends that feel like family, a faithful church, my larger-than-normal, better-than-normal Tardonia family, and any bits of time I get to spend with all of these too-great-for-words people.
I’m a social introvert. I cherish and prioritize time with my man. I schedule everything in a paper planner and am constantly learning flexibility. I am not a morning person, or a night person…but I’m great at midday. I slow down my car to look at cows. I can rarely resist a sweet treat. I tear up when animals are so small. I crave caramel macchiatos. I often have an odd medley of the Sound of Music soundtrack in my head. I talk about good food while eating other good food. I write to process and to organize. I work full time and am learning to not let an office job and busyness to be an excuse for all the things I could make it to be. I struggle but I am cared for. I am saved from my mess. I am His.
Overwhelming grace alone always brings this only child, introverted, perfectionist, control freak heart of mine back to a place of honest living and intimacy with the Lord and others. Only He could teach me the goodness of vulnerability because few things used to sound less appealing than sharing the deepest parts of my heart with others. But seriously, there is such sweetness even in the mess, such joy in being known, such fullness of life in the things of Him. These very thoughts and struggles are what usually result in written words. I write to process my crazy clashing with His goodness; to recount how He has worked and is still working; to remember that I’m not perfect nor expected to be.
Thanks for taking in my rambles.
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